The day I looked at my husband's phone and saw my own sister's name

Two years ago I picked up my husband's phone to check the time. He was in the bathroom. One message from my younger sister. Just her name and a heart. I did not open it. I sat there until my hand started shaking.

I am not a woman who snoops. But that night I opened it. They had been talking for months. Not love talk. Worse. He was sending her money behind my back. Money I was counting for Funke's WAEC. ₦40,000 here, ₦25,000 there. My own sister. The one I trained when our mother died.

I did not shout. I did not cry in front of anybody. I just stopped sending money to my village. She called me wicked. Let her call me wicked. Oluwa knows what I know.