The kitchen pantry had always seemed to be the mansion's quietest space. Tayo often went there, not merely to stock up on groceries or clean, but also to escape the high tension that persisted in the Onyeka home. The pantry seemed isolated from the rest of the estate, a little, chaotic refuge in which she could breathe.
Tayo was rearranging spice jars this afternoon when her hand came into contact with something unexpected. It was nestled behind a stack of unused serving dishes on the top shelf. Stretching her toes, she reached up and pulled it out.
It was a leather-bound book, its edges torn and the surface faded from use. Curious, she turned it over in her hands. The cover had no label, just a faint, hand-drawn flower carved into the leather. Tayo looked over her shoulder, almost expecting Madam Adaora or Chidi to come, but the pantry door was securely shut.
Her heart was beating as she opened the book.
The calligraphy within was precise yet delicate, as one would expect from a schoolgirl. The first page said, "Property of Nneka Onyeka." The name sent shivers down Tayo's spine. She had never heard of a Nneka in her family, but the surname was obvious.
She switched to the next page, studying the text.
"August 12th.
I despise it here. I despise how everyone pretended everything was alright when it wasn't. Mama continues weeping in her chamber, and Papa just shouts at her to stop. "I don't know what to do anymore."
Tayo hesitated as her throat tightened. She knew she shouldn't be reading this; diaries were private and holy. However, something about the sheer passion in those remarks pushed her to continue.
The submissions described a girl stuck in a stifling atmosphere. Nneka wrote of her parents' fights, the oppressive demands imposed on her, and her desire to leave the house, which seemed more like a jail than a home.
On September 3rd, I heard them mention me again. Papa told me I was too weak and would never live up to the family name. Mama ordered him to leave me alone, but he only laughed. "I wish I could disappear."
As Tayo flipped the pages, the entries became darker. Nneka reported restless evenings filled with tears, whispering behind closed doors, and an increasing feeling of loneliness.
"October 15th.
There is something buried in the garden. I saw Papa and Uncle excavating late at night. When I inquired about it, Mama instructed me to mind my own business. But I just can't quit thinking about it. "What are they hiding?"
Tayo froze. The mention of the garden brought her mind back to Madam Ngozi's enigmatic statements and the dispute she had overheard between Madam Adaora and Dr. Dapo. Was this journal related to those secrets?
Tayo continued reading, determined to learn more. The writings became increasingly frenetic as Nneka's statements suggested something ominous.
"On November 2nd, I believe they know I've been watching. Mama continues asking me bizarre things, such as if I informed anybody about the garden. I am afraid. "I'm not sure who to trust."
The last submission was made just a few weeks later.
"November 18th.
If something occurs to me, it is not an accident. I need someone to know the truth, yet I'm too afraid to tell it outright. I hope whoever finds this understands.
Tayo sat back, her hands quivering as she shut the journal. The weight of Nneka's words slammed on her chest like a hefty stone. Who was this girl? What happened to her? Why didn't anybody in the family mention her?
The sound of footsteps jolted Tayo out of her reverie. She hurriedly returned the journal to the shelf and continued stacking jars, her pulse beating when the pantry door creaked open.
It was Madam Adaora. Her piercing gaze went over Tayo and the shelves behind her. "What are you doing here?"
"Just organizing the spices, ma," Tayo said, trying her voice to be calm.
Adaora paused for a while, her eyes narrowing as if she suspected something was wrong. Finally, she nodded. "When you're finished here, come clean the sitting room." "And don't take all day."
"Yes, ma," Tayo said, lowering her head.
Tayo took a hesitant breath as Adaora went. She understood she needed to be cautious. The journal was a key, providing insight into the mansion's secret history, but it was also perilous. Whatever secrets the Onyeka family was concealing were not supposed to be revealed.
But Tayo couldn't avoid the feeling of duty that hung over her. Nneka's comments were a plea for assistance that had gone unanswered for far too long.
Tayo vowed to investigate more, clutching the diary memories closely in her thoughts. She had come to this place desperate for work, but now she was entangled in a web of secrets much more complex than she could have anticipated. And she wasn't sure she'd come out unhurt.