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CHAPTER SIXTY ONE

Author: Gift Noelle
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-10-23 17:31:08

I made the flyer that night. I was sitting at the desk with my laptop open, and the apartment was so quiet I could hear the fridge switching on and off.

I tried three versions. The first had too many words, like I was apologising to everyone at once. The second sounded like a press release. The third was just this:

We are taking a short break. Thank you for your patience. We will be back soon.

I posted it a little after midnight and turned my phone face down on the desk.

In the morning, I had f
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  • Married to the Devil   CHAPTER SEVENTY

    My chest ached as I stared at the writing. “He was making plans to come home,” I said.Henry nodded, his face hardening.“This needs to go to Diane.”Mrs Odion looked from him to me.“Do you think it will make a difference?” she asked.“We don't know yet,” Henry said. “But we're going to find out what happened.”She looked down at her hands.“My son is gone. Even if you find out what happened, will it bring him back?”Henry was quiet for a moment.“No, ma'am. It won't

  • Married to the Devil   CHAPTER SIXTY NINE

    We visited Mrs Odion two days after the news broke.There were cars parked along the street, and people kept coming in and out of the house carrying food and offering their condolences. A group of church women had taken over the kitchen, while a little girl slept across two chairs in the sitting room.Mrs Odion sat in the same armchair we had seen her in during our last visit. She looked smaller somehow, as though grief had taken something from her that she couldn't get back.Beside her sat a younger woman with Marcus's eyes. I recognised her from the family photographs. Efe, his sister, had one arm around a little girl who looked about ten. The child, Chidera, kept staring at Henry.An open photo album lay on the table, and a cardboard box sat on the floor beside it.

  • Married to the Devil   CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT

    Marcus hadn't slept properly in eleven days.The lawyer's letter was tucked inside his pillowcase, folded so many times that the edges had started to soften. He had read it so often that he could remember almost every word.New information has come to light. There are people outside who are willing to look at your case. There is a reasonable chance that someone will listen.He didn't trust hope.Hope was a dangerous thing in prison. It made you count days differently. It made you imagine walking through the gate, seeing your mother's face, and eating food that didn't come in a plastic tray.It made the days harder when nothing changed.He had been twenty-six when the offi

  • Married to the Devil   CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN

    “Quinn, where are you?” Chris asked as soon as I answered.“Outside my building. What's wrong?”“Is Henry with you?”“No. Why? What's going on?”“Are you upstairs?”“No, I'm still in my car.”“Can you go upstairs first? Sit down before I tell you.”“Chris, just tell me what's going on.”He was quiet for a moment.“Marcus Odion was found unresponsive in his cell early this morning.”I gripped my

  • Married to the Devil   CHAPTER SIXTY SIX

    “I've worked in this industry for twenty years now,” Christie said. “I started as an assistant on a music video, holding cables. Now people send me scripts. I'm telling you that so you understand I'm not guessing.”She took a sip of her drink before continuing.“There was a singer I knew some years ago. Very talented woman. She signed with a label, and the contract gave them ownership of almost everything: her image, her name, her pictures, her videos. She was getting a tiny percentage of what she earned, but she didn't realise how bad it was until she started questioning them.”“What happened?” I asked.“She spoke to a journalist. Nothing dramatic. She was polite and explained that some of the terms weren't fair. She said she wanted things to change. After that, the int

  • Married to the Devil   CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE

    The conversation eventually moved on to something else, but I could still hear their voices behind me.I picked up a tray and carried it towards the serving table, pretending I hadn't heard a thing.Henry had become a topic people could casually discuss over dinner, something to judge between mouthfuls of food. They didn't know him, not really, but that didn't stop them from deciding what he deserved.I kept working, checking the food and making sure everything was ready to be served. There was no reason for anyone to notice me standing there, listening.For now, I preferred to remain invisible.The evening continued, and the kitchen grew busier. The starters were served, the lamb was carved, and the main course went out with

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