Jerry had won best staff in the department for four consecutive years. He was one of the nicest people I knew—always taking on extra responsibilities, offering to help refill my water bottle, and even grabbing lunch for colleagues who were too busy to step away. He was a good man.
He was a great husband and an amazing father too. His corner in the office was adorned with lovely pictures of his wife and kids. One of the most interesting times at work was listening to him tell stories about his family. He had an enviable life, the kind of life that made you admire him.
Jerry speaks of his wife, Ella, as a calm and supportive partner who keeps everything in perfect order, from the spotless house to the family meals. He portrays their relationship as effortless with little or no arguments or tensions. When it comes to their kids, Jerry paints them as well-behaved and always excelling in school. He talked about how he connived with the kids to play a prank on his wife and this got the whole office laughing. Jerry was my ideal husband material—a solid 10/10. I visualised his life in my head and wished it was mine.
Then there was Onoh. Who never hid the fact that she couldn’t stand Jerry. She often voiced her suspicions, saying there was something sinister about him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She even pointed out his family pictures, claiming that his wife’s eyes looked sad, though she seemed to be the only one who noticed.
At the last awards/dinner party, Jerry’s wife was absent—again. It was office policy to bring a plus one, but Jerry always attended alone. His kids never showed up for Christmas parties either. He always had an excuse, each one perfectly logical. But Onoh wasn’t buying them. She had a way of seeing through facades, a gift or perhaps a curse that most of us dismissed as paranoia.
It was Onoh who first noticed the bruises on Jerry’s hands. When he laughed and said they were from playing football with his kids, she didn’t believe him. She called him out on it but we brushed it off thinking Onoh was being her usual over the top self.
Then came the news that shattered everything. Jerry had been arrested. The news spread through the office like wildfire. At first, none of us believed it. Our Jerry? The kind-hearted, ever-smiling Jerry? Impossible.
But the truth was darker than any of us could have imagined. Jerry wasn’t just arrested—he was charged with the murder of his wife. He had killed her in a fit of rage. The police dug deeper and the horror unraveled. This wasn’t his first killing. He had done it before, in another country. Two women had died by his hands and he had fled, adopting a new identity, building a fresh start. But no amount of reinvention could hide the monster he truly was.
Onoh had been right all along.
While in custody, Jerry attempted to break out of jail. Perhaps he thought he could escape once more, vanish into the world and start again. But this time, the police were prepared. He was shot during his escape attempt. He didn’t make it.
The office was in disbelief. Some cried, some sat in stunned silence. How could the man who had been our friend, our colleague, have hidden such darkness? The Jerry we knew had never existed. It was all a carefully constructed illusion.
Then the real horror came. When the police searched Jerry’s laptop, they found something chilling—folders containing detailed plans to kill me. The same man I trusted to refill my water bottle had been poisoning it slowly, biding his time. And Onoh? He had pictures of her, taken at the office, at the gym, at her church. He had been tracking her movements, planning to tamper with her car brakes, staging an accident. It was supposed to happen that weekend but nemesis caught up with him just in time.
Onoh became a figure of wisdom and respect in the office. People who once dismissed her instincts now sought her advice. If only we had listened earlier.
She opened our eyes to the truth that evil hides in plain sight. Sometimes, the kindest smiles conceal the darkest souls. And when someone has a bad feeling about another person, perhaps we should listen a little closer.
