“…and if you are unable to give it to him, call him and let him know so he can tell me. Even if you are not working in our house, when the household staff are being paid, your share will still be given to you as it always is, and I will take full responsibility for your child’s education until he completes it. I will also make sure he gets a job to support himself after finishing his studies—don’t worry. I will also provide you with food in the car boot; Shuraihu will bring it. Be patient, may Allah make things easy for you, see you later.”

I pressed the phone to my ear in astonishment, unsure how to even thank Hajiya Fanaya. Before I could react, I realized the call had ended. I quickly redialed, intending to finish my thanks, but then I noticed a car in front of me.

It was Shuraihu. He explained everything to me, and I got into the car. Everything Hajiya Fanaya had promised was fulfilled, including the free scholarship—which, as you can imagine, took much effort before it was granted.

Dayammah said, looking at him,

“Truly, Annah, Hajiya Fanaya is such a kind-hearted person. Honestly, Allah knows she has carried our burdens for all these years and treated Khulud so well. Her family blood does not deserve any mistreatment from us. But why is Fairozha trying to meddle in the affairs of Waasib’s family?”

“Idrak, you’re not supposed to know Fairozha and your father’s story yet, but be patient; time will come,” I replied.

“Annah, how long will we wait for the right time? Today, not tomorrow. I will go and inform Khattab Waasib about our origins.”

“I don’t agree, Idrak. I truly don’t. I won’t let you go to their house today to reveal who we are. Before Waasib—the father of Khattab—passed away, he had already informed them about any witchcraft done to him. Mainah, Waasib’s wife, is currently in Khattab’s house and knows about Fairozha. Do you think if we go now, they won’t see us as knowing what Fairozha did?”

“Alright… but I don’t want you to stress or get upset over this matter, please,” he said, making a gentle face.

I lightly touched my head and said, “Okay, I won’t let it bother me. May Allah bless you.”

“Ameen, Annah. I will start the evening cooking now.”

“Alright, don’t enter my kitchen and cook for me again! Look at yourself—you think you can manage cooking all this?”

“Oh Annah, if I don’t cook, who will? But I’m not saying I’ll cook every day. Once your body heals fully, I’ll stop working in the kitchen.”

Just as he was about to leave and go to their small kitchen, we heard Sayyid greeting them as he entered the house.

Sayyid knelt politely in front of Annah. “Annah, how is your health?”

“Alhamdulillah, Sayyid. How is your family?”

“All well. Here, take this with patience, Annah,” he said, placing a large bag containing various items.

“Even with all this effort, Sayyid… thank you, may Allah reward you.”

Sayyid stood and went over to Idrak, exchanging greetings, then they left the house together.

“Yesterday morning I came home and didn’t find you. I met Annah and asked where you went. She told me you weren’t there. I told her you were fine, and I tried calling you but couldn’t reach you. She told me you sold your phone. I asked why, and she said it was for medicine.”

Sayyid said this while they were sitting in the car.

“Yes, my friend. Yesterday, Annah was unwell, and I had no money, so I sold my phone to buy her medicine.”

“Idrak, you have been unfair to me and surprised me. Others wouldn’t have done this, let alone you. We were together all the time, and if Annah got a fever, I didn’t expect you to sell your phone to get her medicine!”

Idrak was about to respond, but Sayyid interrupted angrily, “By Allah, I told you if you do this to me, your heart will regret it a thousand times!”

“I apologize, Your Highness,” Idrak said, lowering his head and joining his hands.

Sayyid handed him a brand-new phone. “Here is the phone you sold. Please, later, don’t do it again.”

Idrak, overjoyed, hugged Sayyid. “Thank you so much, Sayyid. May Allah grant you goodness and long life.”

“Ameen, my friend. No thanks needed. And later, in the evening, prepare yourself; I need you to give my report to your mother.”

“Okay, no problem, Allah willing.”

“By the way, Sayyid, Khulud is coming to our house today.”

“Your house? For what?” Sayyid asked, adjusting his sitting position.

“She knows Annah well, and her parents know us too.”

Id then explained her story in detail—how her mother helped them and everything about her past.

“Without her mother, you wouldn’t have gotten what you sought from her. She has a natural habit of humiliating the poor. That’s why she caused trouble for Annah until she was expelled.”

“Indeed, that girl, despite her misfortune, has now gained everything she desired. Only Allah guided her.”

“Hmmm, may Allah guide us,”

“Ameen,” Sayyid said, and they continued sharing their story.

K. WAASIB MANSION

Since this matter began between Leeya and Turab, no one else has been paying attention. Leeya became engrossed in her love, spending all her time on her phone—her mother even noticed. She didn’t realize it was love yet; for now, she just enjoyed her phone.

“Mum, today I want to go to Zohal’s house, and I want Meenal to come with me.”

“Alright, get ready and go,” her mother replied.

“Yes, Mum. She called me yesterday afternoon to inform me about the gifts, but I’m not going alone. We will also plan the wedding arrangements.”

“Okay, I understand. Once you are ready, inform me. Your trip may coincide with Turab, and he will drop you off since he’s returning to Kaduna before the program begins.”

“Alright, Mum. Meenal is also ready, just waiting for me to finish my bath and prayer, then we can leave.”

“Okay, see you later.”

Leeya got ready and informed Meenal. Once they were fully prepared, they said goodbye to the rest of the family and left.

They met Turab outside with his trolley, leaning and waiting for them. Leeya and Meenal greeted him.

“Ya-Turab, how are you?”

He replied calmly, “I’m fine, Meenal. Are you going?”

“Yes, we are going to Zohal’s house to check the gifts.”

Leeya said this without raising her head, her hand on her phone, scrolling idly.

“I’m fine,” he responded, indifferent.

They continued on, leaving him behind after greeting.

“But honestly, Ya-Turab has changed so much. Maybe someone spoke to him,” Leeya thought, smiling slightly.

Meenal said, “Ya-Turab has plenty of attention and care, that’s why he allows everything. I no longer feel fear in my heart as long as Ya-Turab is around, and I don’t think there will be a day when this changes.”

“Indeed, whatever you feel is true. It’s not about arrogance but respect,” Meenal said as they approached Zohal’s house.

The gatekeeper opened for them, knowing Leeya well. They entered and saw many people checking the gifts. Ummah, Zohal’s mother, welcomed Leeya and Meenal warmly, honoring them as part of Fahad’s family.

They checked all the gifts, and Leeya explained the schedule to Aunt Zainab.

“Aunty Zainab, where is Zohal? We haven’t seen her since we arrived.”

“Leeya, she’s in her room. I thought you would go. Faruk told me to tell you, don’t think we abandoned you. She’s with Sultanah.”

“No problem, Aunty, I’ll go to her room. Sultanah is there too?”

“Yes, she’s there. Let’s go, Meenal,” Leeya said, signaling her friend.

Zohal, at the window, was watching how Imran would leave so she could sneak out through the back to Leeya’s house. Imran, their eldest brother, had forbidden her from leaving since the beginning of the week.

“Sulteey, look! He’s out. May Allah make it easy,” Zohal said, raising her hand in a pleading gesture.

Sultanah, lying on the bed, said, “Zohal, please call her. I don’t want her to sneak out, but she’s being stubborn. Don’t go through the easy way.”

Before Sultanah could finish, Leeya entered, greeting them. Zohal jumped from the bed and hugged her.

“Bestie! So you’re coming. I was just waiting for Imran to leave so I could sneak out to your house.”

“Sneaking out? Zohal, the bride… they said she’s strict.”

“What strictness? I’m not playing. I want to go now. People keep complaining that invitations aren’t ready yet.”

“I’m here now,” Leeya said, trying to settle.

“How are you?” Meenal asked Zohal.

“Alhamdulillah, I’m fine. Thank God,” Zohal replied.

“Are the preparations ready?”

“Uhmm, yes,” Zohal answered.

Meenal smiled and greeted Sultanah.

Sultanah and Zohal shared the same father and were almost the same age but lived in different cities.

“Alright, Meenal, did Zohal call you?”

“Yes, alhamdulillah,” she replied.

“Masha Allah, Leeya, greetings. I heard about you from Zohal.”

“Yes, Sultanah, greetings. I’ve also heard much about you.”

“Okay, we need to quickly plan the invitations for printing,” Zohal said.

They all sat down and began organizing the events. Leeya suggested typing the invitations for clarity.

“Okay, how many programs?”

“Three,” Sultanah answered, looking at Zohal.

“Just three? What about dinner and the Walimah?”

“Yes, dinner and the Walimah will be on the wedding day in the evening,” Sultanah explained.

Leeya then detailed the schedule, including venues and times, and they sent it for printing after everyone approved.

Later in the evening, Leeya and Meenal prepared to leave. Meenal drove since Leeya couldn’t drive.

Turab’s side

After leaving, Turab headed to Kaduna, traveling for several hours. He parked in front of a large supermarket and checked his phone.

He dialed Zafaran’s number:

“Turab, how did you get here?”

“I just arrived. I stopped at the supermarket to buy something, then came straight.”

“Okay, we’re at Fahad’s estate, not their house.”

“Good, I wanted to greet Mommy since we haven’t met in a while. After the visit, you’ll see me.”

Turab then went inside the supermarket, bought his items, and proceeded to Fahad’s estate.

He found them on the balcony, as if waiting for him. After eating, he joked with Fahad:

“Upgoing groom, no deals today, just fresh air.”

Fahad smiled quietly: “My friend, we do have a big deal.”

“Masha Allah, tell me about it.”

“It’s about Lewa,” Fahad said, sneaking a glance at Zafaran.

“Lewa?” Turab asked, surprised.

“Yes, Lewa’s case caught our attention. That’s why we handled it discreetly,” Fahad explained.

Zafaran hadn’t looked at them or reacted, and Turab noticed this.

“What happened?”

“It was reported that the attackers didn’t kill the women. During the incident, some women survived, while others died. The security forces were informed, some attackers were caught, and victims received help. Sadly, some lost their lives.”

“By Allah, now what’s the standard update on Lewa?”

“None,” Fahad said, showing both hands to indicate nothing new.

“Where did you get this information? Did you go somewhere?”

“We just investigated,” Fahad said, pointing at Zafaran, who conducted the inquiry.

“May Allah protect you, Zafaran. You truly make me feel empathy. May Allah ease your suffering and reveal Lewa’s status—alive or deceased. If she’s alive, show her to us; if not, replace her with another woman, O Allah.”

Turab prayed silently, realizing Zafaran was always checking news on the attackers.

“Ameen,” they all said in unison.