I got back from prison after 15 years of falsely accused of k!ll!ng my husband… Only to find out he’s alive and happily married… Now I will k!ll him for real this time….
Richard never wanted to believe it was Rosalina, because
Years ago, someone from the prison had told Richard something that allowed him to sleep at night.
They had said Rosalina would be hanged to death that same month.
He never confirmed it.
He never asked questions.
He simply accepted it.
So whatever strange feelings crept into his chest now…
Whatever shadows followed him…
They couldn’t be Rosalina.
She was deåd and forgotten.
At least, that was what he believed.
—
At school, Miss Yemi became everyone’s favorite teacher.
Almost all the pupils grew fond of her—the way she laughed with them, played during break time, and patiently repeated lessons until they understood. She never insulted or beat a child.
Children who had once struggled began to improve.
Parents were amazed.
“My son reads fluently now,” one father said proudly.
“My daughter finally understands numbers,” a mother added.
Gratitude turned into gifts.
Food flasks.
Costly fabrics.
Perfumes.
Envelopes pressed discreetly into her hands.
Miss Yemi accepted them politely, always calm, always composed—her skin-colored mask never leaving her face.
Behind the mask, Rosalina watched everything.
—
Then came the announcement.
PTA MEETING — SATURDAY, 1PM
When Miss Yemi saw it, her heart stirred—not with fear, but anticipation.
She knew Richard would be there.
She planned carefully.
—
That evening, she stood before her mirror and reached deep into her wardrobe.
Her fingers brushed against a familiar fabric. That brought back memoriesm
She brought it out slowly.
A deep wine-colored dress.
Richard had given it to her years ago—on her birthday. He had smiled proudly as she wore it for the first time.
Now, she slipped into it again.
It fit perfectly.
She adjusted her skin-colored mask, covered her hair neatly, and studied her reflection.
“Todayt,” she whispered,
“you will remember something… without knowing why.”
—
The school hall was full.
Parents chatted loudly. Teachers arranged chairs. Children ran about.
Richard arrived late, distracted and tired.
As he stepped into the hall, his eyes scanned the room—until they stopped.
Miss Yemi.
Something about her outfit pulled at his memory.
The dress.
He frowned.
I’ve seen that dress before…
He shook his head quickly.
N0nsense.
Wine-colored gowns were common.
Yet, throughout the meeting, his eyes kept returning to her.
She never looked at him.
Not once.
That unsettled him more.
—
When it was time for teachers to speak, Miss Yemi stood up.
The hall filled with applause.
She spoke calmly, confidently, her voice warm and clear.
Parents nodded in approval.
Richard listened closely.
That voice…
Familiar—but distant.
Like a song from a dream he couldn’t remember.
His stomach twisted again.
You’re imagining things, he told himself.
Rosalina is deåd.
But somewhere deep inside him, something stirred…
Something restless.
That even makes it more easy to deal with you ” she thought aloud
—
Across the hall, behind her mask, Rosalina smiled faintly.
Good, she thought.
The past is knocking… but you are not ready to open the door.
—
The PTA meeting ended with loud applause.
Parents crowded around Miss Yemi, thanking her, praising her patience, pressing small gifts into her hands. She bowed slightly each time, her skin-colored mask hiding every trace of emotion.
Richard watched from a distance.
The dress still bothered him.
He told himself it meant nothing. People wear same clothes sometimes.” He thought
Yet his stomach churned again as he turned away.
—
The following Monday, Maxwell stayed back after school as usual.
The compound slowly emptied until only the sound of sweeping brooms and distant traffic remained.
Miss Yemi sat beside him, helping him arrange his books.
“Miss Yemi,” Maxwell said suddenly, “Daddy is still having running stomach. Mummy said he barely eats now.”
She paused.
Just for a second.
Then she smiled gently behind the mask.
“Oh… your poor daddy,” she said softly. “No wonder he looks tired.”
Maxwell nodded sadly.
She reached into her bag.
“Maxwell,” she said carefully, “do you know milk?”
“Yes,” he replied quickly. “Daddy likes milk.”
She brought out a small sealed carton of milk and placed it on the desk.
“This one is special,” she said. “It helps the stomach calm down. It will make your daddy feel better.”
Maxwell’s eyes brightened.
“Really?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Just place it on the dining table when you get home. Tell him to drink it when he’s ready.”
Maxwell hesitated.
“But mummy—”
She interrupted gently.
“It’s not medicine. Just milk. And don’t worry… your daddy will feel fine.”
She leaned closer.
“And when his stomach stops hurting, he will always come early for you. Just like he has been doing.”
Maxwell smiled.
“I like that,” he said.
She placed the milk carefully into his school bag.
But always don’t say who give you ok?
“Yes Miss Yemi!” I won’t tell.
—
That evening, Maxwell walked into the house quietly.
Richard was lying on the couch, weak, his stomach twisting again. His wife was in the kitchen.
Maxwell gently removed the milk from his bag.
He placed it neatly on the dining table.
Just the way Miss Yemi said.
—
Across town, Rosalina stood alone in her kitchen.
She stared at another carton of the same milk in her hand.
Memories flooded her mind.
Richard’s laughter.
Late-night talks.
How they used to drink it together after dinner.
She placed the carton down slowly.
“This one,” she whispered,
“you will recognize… even if you don’t understand why.”
She smiled faintly.
Outside, thunder rumbled softly.
—
Richard’s wifw walked out of the kitchen… She has been meaning to ask him what brother’s him lately.
To be continued…
