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Ashnaah quickly backed away from the door when she heard him pounding on it. She hurriedly opened her handbag, slipped the document inside, and locked herself in the bathroom.
Khaleel went back to his master bedroom, grabbed the spare key to her room, and returned to unlock her door. He scanned every corner of the room before marching straight to the bathroom. He turned the doorknob, only to find it locked from the inside.
From within, she called out, “What is it now? For heaven's sake, leave me alone! I want to take a shower.”
He didn't say a word. Despite the wave of dizziness hitting him, he leaned his weight against the wall right beside the bathroom door. He stood there waiting for nearly fifteen minutes, but Ashnaah refused to come out. Inside, she was doing nothing but weeping silently, utterly bewildered as to why her tears simply wouldn't stop.
Sensing a long silence and assuming he had finally left her room, Ashnaah cautiously turned the lock and stepped out. The moment she caught sight of him, she let out a sharp gasp and instinctively spun around to run back inside. Khaleel was faster; he swiftly caught her by the arm and pulled her into a tight embrace.
She burst into fresh tears in his arms, struggling with all her might to break free, but he refused to let go. Looking down at her, he demanded, “What did you take from my drawer? Where is it?”
She scowled, still struggling frantically to twist out of his grip. “For Allah's sake, let me go! I didn't take anything!”
He stared intensely into her eyes, causing her to quickly look away. Slowly, he released his grip on her, turned around, and walked out of the room. Ashnaah watched his retreating figure until he disappeared, after which she slid down to the floor, breaking into a gut-wrenching sob as though she had just received tidings of a tragic death.
Ashnaah remained slumped on the floor until nearly 6:00 PM, though she had eventually stopped crying. The moment she heard the Maghrib call to prayer echoing through the neighborhood, she forced herself to stand up. She went into the bathroom to wash her face, came back out, and sat on the edge of the bed, her mind a completely blank, detached void.
As soon as she heard the prayer congregation commence, she quickly stood up, pulled out her hijab, grabbed her handbag, and headed for the door. She pushed it open quietly, stepped out, and slipped downstairs. The living room was entirely deserted, giving her the perfect window to slip out unnoticed.
The front gate was shut, and none of the security guards were at their posts; she knew they had all gone to the mosque. She hurriedly unbolted the gate and slipped outside. Walking at a frantic, hurried pace that occasionally broke into a run, she reached the main road, flagged down a commercial tricycle (*adaidaita sahu*), gave the driver her destination, and climbed inside.
It was around 7:30 PM when Ashnaah finally arrived at the gate of her family home. She pulled out the fare, handed it to the driver, and walked through the gate. With a heavy, anxious heart, she walked into the compound, noticing her father's car parked in its usual spot. She gently pushed the front door open and walked into the living room. Finding it empty, she quickly headed upstairs and opened her mother's bedroom door.
She found Momy sitting on her prayer mat, holding a rosary (*tasbih*). Momy looked up at Ashnaah with an expression of sheer surprise. Ashnaah forced a warm smile and said, “Hello, Momy. Let me quickly go perform my ablutions.”
She hurried into the bathroom, performed her ablutions, and came out to observe her prayers. The moment she concluded her prayers, Momy turned to face her, her face filled with bewilderment. “Where on earth are you coming from dressed like this?”
Ashnaah managed a strained smile and lied, “Khaleel came over to visit a friend of his around this neighborhood, so I asked him to drop me off so I could check on everyone at home.”
Momy didn't press further. Ashnaah offered her formal greetings, and Momy accepted them while studying her daughter's face intently. Ashnaah did everything in her power to ensure her mother wouldn't notice her inner turmoil.
"Is Abba home, Momy?" she asked.
"Yes, he is in his room," Momy replied. Ashnaah didn't bother asking about her sister, knowing she was currently staying at Inna's house. Momy asked if she had eaten, and Ashnaah claimed she had, even though she had absolutely no appetite for food.
By 9:30 PM, Momy noticed that Ashnaah hadn't made any mention of leaving. She walked into the room, looked at her, and asked, “Wait, aren't you going back tonight? You know very well that your father has no idea you are even here.”
Ashnaah remained quiet for a moment before replying softly, “I'll leave tomorrow morning, Momy.”
“Alright. Since you're spending the night, go down to his room right now and greet your father. I don't want him catching you here tomorrow and making an issue out of it with me.”
Ashnaah simply nodded in compliance. The moment Momy turned and walked out of the room, Ashnaah buried her face in her hands and began to weep quietly, wondering how her parents would ever break under the weight of the news she was about to drop on them.
Meanwhile, the moment Khaleel returned from the mosque, he went straight to Ashnaah's room. Finding it empty, he checked the bathroom, but she wasn't there either. He rushed back out and went into Ameesha's room, finding her sitting on her prayer mat.
"Where is Fateema?" he demanded.
Ameesha looked up and said, “She went upstairs to her room around 4:00 PM.”
He turned on his heel and stormed out. He searched every single corner of the house, but there was no trace of Ashnaah anywhere. A wave of severe panic washed over him. Where could she possibly have gone in the middle of the night? He questioned the security guards, but they insisted they hadn't seen her slip out.
He ran back upstairs, grabbed his car keys, and hurried downstairs. He didn't even know where to begin searching for her. All at once, his mind raced back to earlier: *What kind of document did she find in my drawer that made her act like that?*
Left with no other choice, he drove straight to her family home, pulling up outside the gate at a quarter to ten. He stepped out of the car and walked up to the security guard. After exchanging brief pleasantries, he asked if Ashnaah had come home. The guard confirmed that she had.
Letting out a massive sigh of relief, Khaleel said, “Please, tell her I am outside and need to speak with her for Allah's sake.”
The guard walked into the compound. Abba opened the front door, looked at the guard, and asked, “What is it, Musa?”
The guard replied, “Fateema's husband is outside waiting to speak with her.”
Abba frowned. “Which Fateema?”
“Fateema, sir. Your daughter.”
Abba turned around with a dark, stern expression and marched upstairs. He threw Momy's bedroom door open and demanded angrily, “What is that girl doing in this house tonight without my permission?”
Momy frowned in confusion. “I have no idea what she's doing here either.”
Abba began to scold them fiercely. “Tell her to get out of my house right this instant! Her husband is waiting for her outside!”
Ashnaah, who could hear every single word her father was shouting from the hallway, wept silently. She knew the time had come; she had to tell them exactly what had brought her back home. She stood up before her father could even step into her space, grabbed her hijab, picked up the divorce paper she had found, and walked out with leaden steps, anxious to hear what Khaleel could possibly want now.
He was leaning against his car when she emerged through the front gate. He simply stared at her as she approached. She stopped a short distance away, folded her arms tightly across her chest, and said with a cold, hardened expression, “I'm listening.”
He kept staring at her, completely tongue-tied and at a loss for words. Seeing his silence, she said coldly, “If you have nothing to say to me, I am going back inside, please.”
In a hushed, trembling voice, he asked, “What did I do to you, Fateema?”
She snapped her head up to look at him, completely startled to hear him address her by her actual name for the first time. She quickly lowered her gaze to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. “What did you do to me? You didn't do anything to me.”
A heavy silence followed, and when he still didn't say anything, she burst into a bitter sob. She extended her hand and thrust the document toward him. He took the paper, his eyes scanning the lines. Within fifteen seconds, he had read the entire content.
In an instant, his entire world ground to a halt. The paper slipped from his hand and fluttered to the ground as he gasped out, “*Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un* (To Allah we belong, and to Him we shall return).”
Ashnaah bent down, picked up the paper, and wiped her tears, a sudden, bitter smile spreading across her lips. “And I am very happy, because I have been looking forward to a day like this. I am very glad I saw it. After all, you never loved me, and I never...”
She couldn't finish her sentence as a heavy sob choked her voice. With immense difficulty, Khaleel forced his heavy lips to open, his voice barely a weak whisper. “By Allah, I swear by Almighty Allah, I am not the one who wrote this document, Fateema!”
Without listening further, Ashnaah turned around and ran back toward the gate. He began shouting her name, but his legs felt entirely paralyzed, leaving him unable to pursue her as she disappeared behind the gate. He pressed his forehead against the car, his eyes filling with tears. “No! No! Who could have done this to me?!”
The moment Ashnaah entered the house, she headed straight for her father's private living room, her body trembling violently as she clutched the paper in her hand. She found him sitting with Momy. She collapsed onto her knees right in the center of the living room, struggling to suppress the tears threatening to spill over as she faced her parents. Unable to hold it in any longer, she burst into a violent, heartbreaking sob before them.
Her parents simply sat there, staring at her in sheer bewilderment. Momy gathered the courage to ask what was wrong, while Abba remained dead silent, his eyes fixed intently on her. Ashnaah was completely unable to utter a single word; she kept her head lowered, sobbing uncontrollably.
Momy stood up, walked over to where she was kneeling, and noticed the paper in her hand. She took it from her. The moment Momy finished reading the contents, she turned around slowly, looking at her husband with a heavy heart.
Abba let out a cynical laugh and remarked, “So he has already divorced her three times then? That's good.”
Momy averted her gaze, fighting back the tears gathering in her own eyes. She helped Ashnaah to her feet and escorted her upstairs. Ashnaah was in no state to answer the barrage of frantic questions Momy was throwing at her, so Momy eventually fell silent, stood up with a heavy heart, and walked out of the room.
When Momy returned to the downstairs living room, her husband was no longer there, so she headed straight to his master bedroom. She found him sitting down, typing away on his laptop.
He lifted his head, looked at her, and said, “Now, what I expect from you people is to make absolutely sure that she is alone. Because if she turns out to be pregnant, I swear by Almighty Allah, she will not spend a single day under my roof! I will not sit here and stare at her while enduring such utter humiliation.”
In a flash of pure anger, Momy snapped back, "Does she have any other father's house besides this one?! If she does, tell me right now so I can take her there!" She finished her statement in a tearful choke.
Abba simply doubled down, saying, “Well, I have given you my word, by Allah.”
It was only by Allah's divine guidance that Khaleel managed to drive himself to his own family home, arriving around 10:30 PM. The security guard was deeply surprised to see him at such an hour, especially since they usually got along very well. Khaleel rushed into the house in a state of utter hysteria, not even registering the guard's greetings.
Finding the living room empty, he hurried upstairs and threw his mother's bedroom door open. He found Ummi preparing to go to bed. She stared at him in complete astonishment, then glanced at the clock. His frantic, disheveled state deeply alarmed her, as she knew her son better than anyone else.
He sank onto the edge of her bed, burying his face in his hands. She rushed over to his side, looking at him anxiously. “What is happened, Khaleel?”
He lifted his head to look at her. Unable to form a single word, tears simply began streaming down his face. Ummi panicked completely, sitting beside him and pulling his hands away. “Talk to me, son! What on earth happened?!”
With immense difficulty, Khaleel forced his mouth open and recounted everything that had transpired to his mother. He concluded the story in a state of sheer agony, looking as though he was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. “Please help me, Mum, for Allah's sake! By Allah, I am not the one who wrote that document! I know nothing about it!”
Ummi froze, staring at him in absolute shock. Khaleel slid down to the floor, collapsing onto his knees before her, desperately grabbing her legs. “Please, my Ummi, help me! If Fateema shows this document to her parents, I know it is completely over between us! Please, Ummi!”
Ummi, her mind completely boggled by the bizarre situation, muttered, "Glory be to Allah." She began to soothe him, saying, “Alright, calm yourself down, my son. Allah is always with the truthful. Stand up right now, let's go down to your father's room and explain everything to him. Tomorrow morning, they will go over to her family home, and you will accompany them.”
The following morning, Abba went so far as to summon a doctor to the house to run tests on Ashnaah to confirm if she was pregnant. After conducting his examinations, the doctor concluded that she wasn't pregnant at all. Throughout the entire process, Ashnaah did nothing but weep silently, feeling as though all joy had been permanently drained from her life.
Once the doctor left, Abba instructed Momy to call her down. She walked downstairs with weak steps, kneeling in her father's living room. Looking at him, she whispered, “Abba, I am here.”
Abba fixed his intense gaze on her, studying her closely before saying, “Where exactly did you meet this man? And don't you dare lie to me.”
Tears began to trace lines down her cheeks. She turned to glance at her mother, who was watching her intently, and then slowly began to narrate the entire story of how she and Khaleel crossed paths up until the point he married her. She concealed absolutely nothing from them—from the nature of their living arrangements up until yesterday when she discovered the document in his drawer.
Abba let out a cynical smile and remarked, “Wonderful! That's just perfect! You see? All of this is happening to you as a direct result of your disobedience toward me. But I am actually glad it happened. I know you have learned a very great lesson from this point onward. Therefore, if you want to focus on your studies now, you better do so with full concentration.”
Ashnaah wept bitterly, still entirely unable to understand the deep-seated root of her own tears. Abba picked up his phone and dialed a close friend of his who owned a large commercial haulage company, asking to borrow a truck to transport some belongings.
Ashnaah snapped her head up to look at him, her sobbing intensifying dramatically.
Abba barked, “I didn't ask you to sit there and cry for me! Stand up and get out. Allah will vindicate you, even though you are completely stubborn. Now, go and focus on your studies if you feel like it; look at your sister, she has already gone very far ahead of you.”
With immense difficulty, Ashnaah forced herself to her feet. Gripped by a violent wave of dizziness, she stumbled upstairs, collapsed onto her bed, and began to sob uncontrollably, looking as though her very soul was leaving her body.
### **CHAPTER 71**
At around eleven o'clock in the morning, Alhaji Muhammad—Khaleel's father—alongside a few of his close friends, his younger brother, and Khaleel himself, arrived at Ashnaah's family home. Khaleel's heart was hammering violently against his ribs.
His father stepped out of the car with his brother and two friends. Looking back at Khaleel, who was still frozen in his seat, he barked, “Well? Aren't you getting out, or do you intend to stay glued inside that car?”
Khaleel shook his head weakly and muttered, “I don't want to go inside, Abba.”
His father's friend interjected, “Listen to this foolish boy! What are we supposed to tell them if we go in without you? Get out of the car right now so we can handle this properly, my friend.”
With a heavy heart, Khaleel dragged himself out of his car. His elders walked up to the security guard seated by the gate, while he trailed a miserable distance behind them.
After exchanging greetings, Khaleel's paternal uncle asked the guard if the master of the house was in. The guard confirmed that he was, and went inside to announce their arrival. It wasn't long before the guard returned, granting them access and escorting them into Abba's living room.
Abba, who was seated in the living room, stood up to welcome his guests, receiving them with proper hospitality. He recognized them instantly, especially upon spotting Khaleel. Khaleel couldn't even bring himself to meet Abba's gaze; keeping his head lowered, he offered his greetings. Abba accepted them coolly, with an entirely neutral tone.
Khaleel sat down on the floor right beside his father's seat. Once the formal pleasantries were concluded, Khaleel's father's friend, Alhaji Umar, faced Ashnaah's father and spoke:
“Well, Alhaji, what brought us here today is nothing other than to formally extend our deepest apologies on behalf of our son regarding the matter you saw. Even though this boy insists that he wasn't the one who issued the divorce, the entire situation honestly sounds like child's play—after all, we have never heard of a case where a man claims he didn't divorce his wife when the written document was found right inside his own room. However, we are here to beg for your forgiveness. For Allah's sake, please overlook this matter, and we will take your daughter back to her...”
Abba, who had been staring at him in sheer disbelief since he started speaking, swiftly cut him off. “Oh? So I see. Since when does a woman return to her husband's house after a triple divorce (*saki uku*) has been issued? I certainly wasn't aware of that rule.”
A dead silence filled the room as they all stared at him in shock. Alhaji Umar quickly turned to glare at Khaleel. “Wait, was it a triple divorce?!”
Khaleel remained dead silent, looking completely hollowed out and beside himself. His father let out a sharp hiss of disgust and barked at him, “You are an utterly useless human being, Khaleel! You knew very well it was a triple divorce, yet you allowed us to drag our elderly bodies all the way here like a pack of fools?!”
With immense difficulty, Khaleel forced his mouth open, looking as though he was on the verge of tears before them. “By Allah, Abba, I am not the one who issued that divorce!”
Khaleel's father's other friend chimed in, saying, “Well, Alhaji, strictly speaking, if a man issues a triple divorce all at once in a single sitting, it is counted as only a single divorce under Islamic jurisprudence, is it not?”
Ashnaah's father let out a cold smile. "When you explicitly look at a woman and tell her 'I divorce you once, twice, thrice,' she is completely and irrevocably divorced. Is that
