My Sister, the Serial Killer

Words

Ayoola summons me with these words Korede, I killed him.

I had hoped I would never hear those words again.
 

Bleach

I bet you didn t know that bleach masks the smell of blood. Most people use bleach indiscriminately, assum­ing it is a catchall product, never taking the time to read the list of ingredients on the back, never taking the time to return to the recently wiped surface to take a closer look. Bleach will disinfect, but it s not great for cleaning residue, so I use it only after I have first scrubbed the bathroom of all traces of life, and death.

It is clear that the room we are in has been remod­eled recently. It has that never-been-used look, especially now that I ve spent close to three hours cleaning up. The hardest part was getting to the blood that had seeped in between the shower and the caulking. It s an easy part to forget.

There s nothing placed on any of the surfaces; his shower gel, toothbrush and toothpaste are all stored in the cabinet above the sink. Then there s the shower mat a black smiley face on a yellow rectangle in an otherwise white room.

Ayoola is perched on the toilet seat, her knees raised and her arms wrapped around them. The blood on her dress has dried and there is no risk that it will drip on the white, now glossy floors. Her dreadlocks are piled atop her head, so they don t sweep the ground. She keeps looking up at me with her big brown eyes, afraid that I am angry, that I will soon get off my hands and knees to lecture her.

I am not angry. If I am anything, I am tired. The sweat from my brow drips onto the floor and I use the blue sponge to wipe it away.

I was about to eat when she called me. I had laid everything out on the tray in preparation the fork was to the left of the plate, the knife to the right. I folded the napkin into the shape of a crown and placed it at the center of the plate. The movie was paused at the begin­ning credits and the oven timer had

Oyinkan Braithwaite

BOOKER PRIZE NOMINEE WINNER OF THE LA TIMES BOOK PRIZE FOR MYSTERY/THRILLER FINALIST FOR THE WOMEN'S PRIZE

"A taut, rapidly paced thriller that pleasurably subverts serial killer and sisterhood tropes for a guaranteed fun afternoon." HUFFINGTON POST

It s Lagos noir pulpy, peppery and sinister, served up in a comic deadpan . This book is, above all, built to move, to hurtle forward and it does so, dizzyingly. There s a seditious pleasure in its momentum. At a time when there are such wholesome and dull claims on fiction on its duty to ennoble or train us in empathy there s a relief in encountering a novel faithful to art s first imperative: to catch and keep our attention This scorpion-tailed little thriller leaves a response, and a sting, you will remember. THE NEW YORK TIMES

Campy and delightfully naughty . A taut and darkly funny contemporary noir that moves at lightning speed, it s the wittiest and most fun murder party you ve ever been invited to. SAM IRBY, MARIE CLAIRE

Braithwaite s writing pulses with the fast, slick heartbeat of a YA thriller, cut through by a dry noir wit. That aridity is startling, a trait we might expect from someone older, more jaded a Cusk, an Offill. But Braithwaite finds in young womanhood a reason to be bitter. At the center of these women s lives is a knot of pain, and when it springs apart, it bloodies the world. NEW REPUBLIC

This riveting, brutally hilarious, ultra-dark novel is an explosive debut by Oyinkan Braithwaite, and heralds an exciting new literary voice Delicious. NYLON

"You can't help flying through the pages.." BUZZFEED

"Feverishly hot." PAULA HAWKINS, author of GIRL ON THE TRAIN

"Lethally elegant." LUKE JENNINGS, author of KILLING EVE: Codename Villanelle

"Disturbing, sly and delicious." AYOBAMI ADEBAYO, author of STAY WITH ME

Oyinkan Braithwaite is rewriting the