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Around 6:00 PM, he woke up feeling completely exhausted and sneezing repeatedly. He recited the supplication for waking up before slowly stepping down from the bed, still sneezing. He turned to check if the air conditioner was on, but it was switched off. Turning around, he opened the bathroom door and walked inside.
It was a magnificent, spacious bathroom connected to a walk-in closet. The space was divided into two sections. On the right side was a stunning, high-end closet where everything was themed in blue, featuring rows of diverse clothes hanging on racks and a small stool placed right in the center. The left section featured a door leading into the restroom itself. He opened that door and stepped inside.
He spent about fifteen minutes in the bathroom before emerging dressed in a maroon hoodie with the word "GIFTED" written across the front. He had pulled the hoodie's cap over his head, pairing it with long black trousers and black socks. He was exuding a heavy, captivating fragrance. He leaned his head against the bedroom wall for a moment before lifting it, clenching his fist, and punching the wall with tremendous, aggressive force. He let out a sharp hiss as the image of Nadeera’s face flashed vividly across his mind once again.
He spread out his prayer mat and performed the Asr prayer. When he finished, he remained seated on the mat, resting his head heavily upon his knees. He hissed again and muttered, "Damn it." No woman's face had ever lingered in his mind like that girl's—but why?!
Hearing the call to prayer echoing from the estate's mosque, he stood up. He quickly slipped on his slippers, whispering a prayer of gratitude to Allah between his sneezes, and opened the door to leave his room. He walked downstairs and headed out to the mosque to perform the Maghrib prayer.
Because a heavy storm was gathering outside, the Maghrib and Isha prayers were combined at the mosque. The moment he concluded his post-prayer supplications (azkar), he stood up and hurried out of the mosque before Abdallah or anyone else could catch him to strike up a conversation, as he was in absolutely no mood to talk. He climbed the stairs, opened his bedroom door, and stepped inside. He closed the door behind him, locking it securely with the key before leaning back against it, letting out a deep, heavy sigh.
He sneezed and praised Allah, then slowly placed his hand over his heart, where every single beat seemed to remind him of holding her in his arms. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked at the plain white chiffon curtains on his large bedroom window, which were billowing wildly under the heavy wind signaling the approaching rain. The sky had turned incredibly dark, looking almost like the dead of night due to the thick storm clouds, while lightning flashed across the sky.
Slowly moving away from the door, he walked deliberately toward the window, as if treading on eggshells. He stood there, slowly reaching out to gently touch the curtain before bringing his other hand up to part them, drawing each side away to reveal the window, which was already slightly ajar. He pushed his hand through and swung the window completely open. He lifted his head to gaze at the sky, entirely unconcerned about mosquitoes or insects flying into his room.
He stood there in utter silence, staring up into the sky. The wind, carrying the rich scent of earth and trees, blew directly at him, washing over his entire body and making him feel a strange, unprecedented sensation. Slowly, he extended his hand outside the window, feeling the wind brush against it as the light drizzle began to sprinkle over his palm. Fixing his eyes intently on his hand, a strange sensation ran through his body, and he whispered softly to himself, “What is happening to me?”
They drove straight back home. The moment they entered, Abba escorted her directly to her room and said, “Go take a shower, change out of these clothes, and eat some food. I will send Ahmad to buy your medication. Don't worry, everything will be fine.”
Nadeera nodded at Abba and hurried into the bathroom, sneezing repeatedly and feeling a deep, piercing chill throughout her body. She took a warm bath and performed her ablutions, even though her head was throbbing with a severe ache. Stepping back into the room, she went over to her wardrobe, pulled out a long black dress, and slipped it on. After putting on her hijab, she climbed onto the prayer mat, managing to perform her Asr prayer with great difficulty because her head hurt so intensely and she was shivering violently from the cold.
The moment she finished praying, she pulled off her hijab, climbed into bed, and curled up beneath a heavy blanket. She offered silent gratitude to Allah for protecting her today, realizing she could have died if that hidden man had actually shot her. She suddenly began sneezing, letting out about five sneezes in rapid succession. This prompted her to pull the blanket tighter, curling herself into a ball before drifting off into a deep sleep.
When Abba later came into the room to call her for dinner, he found her fast asleep. He switched off the light and walked out. In the corridor, he ran into Ya Ahmad, who was also on his way to check on her. Abba told him, "She’s asleep, son." Ahmad nodded and turned back toward the living room, while Abba walked over to his own quarters further down the corridor.
Abba sat down on one of the armchairs in his living room, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and dialed a number saved as "Sweetheart." He let it ring until it cut off without an answer. He dialed a second time with the same result. On his third attempt, the call was finally picked up on the other end. Mum spoke in a hushed, hurried whisper: "Alhajina, please, I am currently in a meeting with some investors. I will call you back, I promise, Alhajina." She abruptly cut the line.
Abba pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen, a wave of deep frustration washing over him. Setting the phone aside, he adjusted his seat and focused on the news broadcast. It wasn't until the Maghrib call to prayer sounded that he stood up, walked into his private living room bathroom to perform ablutions, and changed into a brown jallabiya before coming back out.
He went to Nadeera's room first. Seeing she was still asleep, he gently woke her up before heading out to the mosque. She managed to drag herself into the bathroom, performed her ablutions, came out, put on her hijab, and performed her Maghrib prayer. Because she felt incredibly weak, she couldn't read the Holy Qur'an today.
Standing up, she opened her door and walked out into the living room, then made her way into the kitchen. She slowly plugged in the electric kettle, and once the water boiled, she brewed a rich cup of tea. She brought it over to the dining table and sat down, mindlessly stirring the spoon in the cup while staring at the liquid. She felt an overwhelming, intense longing for her mother. She simply wanted to throw herself into her Mum's arms, feel her maternal warmth, and find the peace of mind she so desperately craved.
Slowly, she pulled the spoon out, set it down, and lifted the cup to her lips. She took a sip and set it back down, staring at the tea, which tasted completely flavorless to her. She raised it to her mouth once more and took a long gulp before placing the spoon back inside the cup. Standing up slowly, she walked back into the kitchen and stood by the sink. As she rinsed the cup under the running tap, her gaze drifted to the kitchen window, noting how dark the sky had become due to the heavy storm clouds, punctuated by flashes of lightning.
She felt a strange, magnetic pull drawing her outside. Setting the cup down gently, she walked over to the back door that led to the backyard and opened it. A sudden, powerful gust of wind rushed over her face, causing her to instinctively close her eyes before slowly opening them again. She looked up at the sky, which was completely draped in a pitch-black haze that seemed to be moving rapidly. A delightful breeze carrying the rich, refreshing scent of damp earth filled her nostrils.
She stared intently at the sky, her body shivering with a strange sensation. She closed her eyes as a light drizzle began to fall, and another gust of wind sprayed the mist directly onto her face. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she slowly reopened them, still gazing upward, and muttered softly, “Why do I feel as if something major is about to happen to my life? Why do I feel as if something is about to happen? Ya Allah, please protect me. I am very, very scared of him. Even when I close my eyes, I see him. I can't get his face out of my head. Ya Allah, I am afraid of this masked man. Ya Allah, protect me and keep me safe.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as the drizzle continued to mist over her, staring deep into the sky, which had turned exceptionally dark by now. She was completely lost in her thoughts when she suddenly felt a hand drop onto her shoulder.
She let out a terrified shriek and spun around in a panic, only to find Ya Muhsin standing behind her, giving her a strange, stern look.
"What on earth do you think you're doing out here?" he demanded. “Can't you see it's drizzling? Look at how drenched you've gotten!”
Her eyes widened in terror as she stared at him, his face briefly distorting and morphing into the face of the masked, hidden man in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, shrinking into herself as her breath began to catch in her throat.
He firmly shook her shoulders and called out, “Nadeera!”
Slowly opening her eyes, she looked at him, tilted her head weakly, and whispered, “Yes?”
He gently nudged her aside, closed the backyard kitchen door, and turned back to face her. “Are you okay? What is wrong with you?”
She shook her head as tears pooled in her eyes, whispering softly, “I'm just missing Mum.”
“Don't worry, she will be back soon. Ahmad brought your medication to your room, go ahead and take it.”
She nodded, quickly brushed past him, and hurried out of the kitchen. He watched the doorway she had just disappeared through for a moment before opening the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of Maltina, and leaving the kitchen to head over to Abba's room.
CHAPTER 8 - 9
He knocked and offered a greeting, and upon receiving Abba's permission, he walked in while sipping his Maltina. He closed the door behind him, walked over to where Abba was sitting, and settled onto the carpet nearby.
"Hope you're resting well, Abba," he said.
Abba simply nodded in acknowledgement, his face still clouded with anger because Mum still hadn't called back.
Setting his Maltina aside, Muhsin spoke up: “Abba, I've tried calling Mum more than three times and she isn't answering. Seriously, Abba, she needs to come back. This girl really needs her right now. She looks so lonely and completely pitiful. The sense of comfort and relief she would feel by confiding in Mum is not something she can get from us. Please, Abba, tell Mum she needs to come back home.”
"And do you honestly think I haven't told her to come back?" Abba retorted, his voice rising in irritation as his anger flared.
Muhsin stared at him in utter surprise, as it was incredibly rare to see Abba lose his temper. Abba held his head in his hands for a few seconds, rubbed his face, and then softened his tone.
"Muhsin, let me give you a piece of advice," Abba said. "When the time comes for you to marry, do not ever accept any conditions from a woman stating she will be constantly traveling for business. Your mother, hmmm..." He abruptly trailed off, choosing not to say another word.
Seeing how deeply pained Abba was made Muhsin feel incredibly frustrated as well. For heaven's sake, Mum was always traveling from one city to another simply because Abba loved her so much and was far too soft with her, allowing her to do whatever she pleased.
Abba’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Look, Son, I have a meeting I'm supposed to attend. The meeting is tomorrow in Japan, but I'll have to cancel the trip. We can't possibly leave you all alone without your mother or me around, can we?”
Muhsin shook his head and said, “Please take it easy, Abba.”
“It's okay, I know what to do. What came of your visit to the hospital?”
Muhsin grimaced. “I couldn't meet with their HOD. I'll be going back there tomorrow. I need her explicit permission so I can gain access to their CCTV footage. Even though I know thousands of people enter and leave that hospital daily, I want to take my time and review it. Because if Nadeera insists she saw a masked man, then she definitely saw him. If I can find him on that footage, it will prove her innocence. That way, even if something eventually happens to the patient, she won't be held responsible in any way.”
Abba nodded, thoroughly satisfied with Muhsin’s reasoning. He said softly, “May Almighty Allah vindicate her. Now, what about our pending discussion, Son? I don't want to pressure you, but is that why you've completely ignored the matter? By Allah, I will arrange a marriage for you regardless of who she is, and I'll simply hand her over to you.”
Muhsin closed his eyes and murmured softly, “My heart, soul, system, and my nerves already belong to her, Abba.”
“What did you say? I didn't hear you.”
Opening his eyes, he looked at Abba with a smile and said, “Abba, by Allah's grace, I will introduce someone very soon. Just give me a little more time.”
Abba nodded. “Alright, take your time, but I don't want you going past this year. You're 29 now; by 30, shouldn't you at least have a family of your own?”
Muhsin picked up his Maltina, took a sip, and replied, “Yes, my Abbana.”
He adjusted his seat, and they watched the news together. Before long, Ya Ahmad joined them, and they chatted in low voices, exchanging stories. It was around 11:00 PM when they finally left Abba's room. Before heading off to bed, they quietly opened Nadeera's door to check on her, but she was already fast asleep, buried under her blanket. They switched off her light, closed the door, and retired to their own quarters.
At dawn, Abba came into her room to wake her up for prayers, ensuring she was fully awake before he left. She slowly got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Before long, she emerged having performed her ablutions. She performed the two Sunnah units of Fajr, followed by the obligatory Subh prayer.
Once finished, she completed her morning supplications (azkar) and pulled out her Holy Qur'an, reciting in a deeply moving and beautiful tone. She continued until the sky began to brighten, after which she closed the Qur'an, set it aside, folded her prayer mat, and went into the kitchen.
She prepared a pot of tea and carried a tray over to Ya Ahmad and Muhsin's wing, but the living room was completely empty, indicating they hadn't returned from the mosque yet. She then took another tray over to Abba's quarters before returning to her own room to tidy up.
Afterward, she took a quick shower and emerged wrapped in a pink towel. She walked over to her wardrobe, picked out a freshly pressed set of her nursing uniform, and dressed up elegantly. Standing before the mirror, she applied a light dusting of powder and some kohl. She looked exceptionally beautiful, despite her eyes still bearing a slight puffiness from yesterday's crying. She offered a quick prayer, asking Allah to ensure they wouldn't face any stressful practical exams today.
Leaving her hijab on the bed, she slipped into her slippers and walked out. She went to the kitchen, brewed some tea, fried an egg, and sat down at the dining table to eat.
Just then, Ya Muhsin walked in looking sharp in a black suit, exuding a high-end fragrance. He cast a single glance at her before averting his eyes. Swallow the bite of egg in her mouth, she said, “Good morning, Yaya.”
Heading down the corridor to greet Abba without looking back at her, he replied, “Morning. Hope you slept well?”
She quickly finished her tea, carried everything back to the kitchen, and hurried down the corridor to her room. She slipped into her black covered shoes, put on her hijab, and strapped on her backpack. Holding her chic nursing after-dress in her hand, she stepped out of her room, trailing the lovely scent of her Twilly perfume.
She entered Abba’s room and offered a greeting. Abba and Ya Muhsin were sitting close together, engrossed in something on a laptop. She looked at them and said, “Good morning, Abba.”
"Morning, princess. Are you sure it's a good idea to go to school? Won't there be an issue?" Abba asked, looking toward Ya Muhsin.
Leaning back against his chair, Muhsin replied, “No, let her go, Abba. I'll be heading over to the hospital later today anyway.”
Abba nodded. “Alright then, that's fine. May Allah grant you success.”
"Amen," she said with a smile. Abba pulled out three thousand Naira and handed it to her. She accepted it, saying, “Thank you, Abbana. Bye! Bye, Ya Muhsin!”
Without lifting his eyes from what he was doing, he muttered, “Bye.”
She hurried outside, where she crossed paths with Ya Ahmad. He playfully pinched her ear through her hijab and joked, “Hey, haven't you greeted me this morning?”
Pretending to cry, she said, “But I came over to your wing earlier and you guys hadn't returned from the mosque yet! Good morning, Ya Ahmad.”
"Morning, princess. Do you want to hear something?" he asked, handing her a red necktie.
Taking the tie and placing her after-dress on a nearby chair, she replied, "Tell me then." She stood on her tiptoes to help him tie it, as he was quite tall. He leaned down to make it easier for her.
"Make sure you're ready tomorrow because we are going to the amusement park," he said. “You're going to accompany me to meet 'My Deejay'—we're meeting up at the park.”
She let out a small laugh, then gave him a playful glare. "By Allah, if I were Khadeeja, I would never let you call me 'My Deejay'. Absolutely not!" she teased just as she finished knotting the tie.
He playfully tapped her head and countered, “Well, her name is far more beautiful than yours, black belly!”
“That is a lie! I am a white belly! Anyway, give me pocket money for my break.”
He rolled his eyes, pretending he wanted to walk past her. “Oh, because you help me run errands at the bank or work with me, right?”
She grabbed his hand, putting on a dramatic pouting face. "By Allah, you must give me some money! You accountants are far too stingy. Rather than giving someone a single Naira, you'd prefer to spend all day figuring out how to invest it into a million. By Allah, you must give me some!" She even stomped her foot on the floor for effect.
Hissing playfully, he pulled out his wallet and opened it, revealing crisp rows of thousand-naira notes. He deliberately passed over them, pulled out a brand-new two-hundred-naira note, and handed it to her. “Here you go, little beggar.”
Pouting her lips, which only made her look cuter, she said, "Yes, whatever, I want it." She let go of him and reached out to grab the money, but he quickly raised his hand high out of her reach.
She stared at his hand, jumped up to snag the bill, but he raised it even higher. Stomping her foot again, she demanded, “Look, just give me my money!”
“Oh listen to this girl! Your money or my money? Oya, here it is, jump up and get it. Isn't that how all beggars are treated?”
Glarring at his hand, she made one final leap to catch the money, but he pulled it all the way up. She spun around, picked up her after-dress, and said with a tearful pout, “I don't want it anymore.”
She marched toward the exit, but he caught her by the arm, laughing heartily. “Come on, Mum's favorite girl, oya look, take this.”
She shrugged her shoulder away, refusing to turn
