Hafsa couldn't bring herself to at least take a seat. She was pacing to and fro in the hospital, anticipating the emergence of the doctor with anxiety. Her demeanor was detorted in extreme worry. Ramlah, who had been watching her mother with concern all the while, approached her in a subtle manner and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Please have a seat, mum," she beseeched. "You're making me feel dizzy with the way you're pacing about. Please stop it already. In shaa Allah, Adnan will be fine. I'm sure it's just a fever. Nothing serious." "I hope so," Hafsa muttered. Inexplicably, she was having a bad feeling. Ever since he was birthed, this was the first time he was rushed to the hospital. She felt uneasy. "I—" just as she was about to say something else, the door to the emergency room swung open and a young man of about thirty three years of age emerged. Both Hafsa and Ramlah rushed towards him. "How's he doing, doctor?" Ramlah inquired, apprehensively.

"How's he doing?" Mr. Aliyu asked, his gaze flickering between his wife and daughter. Since the moment Ramlah called and informed him about Adnan's condition, he had been worried. He even abandoned all he was doing and rushed to the hospital immediately. He might have not shown him any form of love within the three years he had known the kid, because, like Zynah, he also reminded him so much of Bilal and his brutality towards his daughter. Yet deep down, he knew he wouldn't be able to hate Zynah's flesh and blood. He best he could do was pretend not to care. Which he had been doing quite perfectly. Without a doubt, he knew he also contributed to the decision that led to Zynah abandoning her newborn. one word from him to her would have been all it'd take for her to reconsider her decision. Mr. Aliyu hoped it wasn't too late for him to show the little boy that he actually cared. Hafsa, who had not stopped crying, pretended to be oblivious of Mr. Aliyu's arrival. Avoiding his g

Ramlah pulled into the hospital's driveway. "We're here.," She announced, unbuckling her seatbelt. Zynah felt her heartbeat increase rapidly. Her palms had become sweaty. All of the previous confidence she had managed to gather had all flew and dissipated in the air. She felt apprehensive and very ashamed to face her mother after all these years. She hadn't been a mother to her child and for that, she knew she deserved to be hated. Ramlah placed a hand on hers reassuringly. "Let's to in." She muttered. Ramlah had succeeded in reinstating a little confidence back in her. She gave a closed lip smile before alighting the car. • Hafsa and Mr. Aliyu had just arrived at the hospital, but were still yet to see Adnan or get the chance to speak to Dr. Muslim. They were both seated on a bench, in the reception when Ramlah walked in, followed closely by Zynah. Hafsa's breath hitched as her gaze landed on Zynah, a moisture of surprise and resentment brewing within her. She had

Lying motionless on the floor, Zaahida could cry no more. The pain Bilal had inflicted on her body was nothing compared to the one in her heart. She was barely alive, lying in the pool of her own blood. Subconsciously, her eyes opened and closed on their own terms. She couldn't decipher what was about to happen to her. All she could see was blank. Remorselessly, Bilal stood tall before her, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.. "Do you now understand the consequence of disrespecting me? If you think you can do it, and get away with it, simply because my father approves of you, then you're badly mistaken. I'm Bilal," he smirked. "No one, especially someone as worthless as you, disrespects me and goes scot-free. You are not my wife, Zaahida," he hissed. "I need you to get that into that thick brain of yours. And even if you were, you can't talk back at me. Not at all." "I may have tolerated and ignored your craziness, for the past few days, but that's not how I always am. Hec

One week had passed since Bilal physically assaulted Zaahida. Standing in front of the mirror, she stared back at her reflection. The bruises Bilal had inflicted on her had begun to fade. Her eyes weren't as swollen as they were a few days back. Zaahida adjusted her head tie around her head, and as usual, began to conceal the still visible scars with make-up, to prevent her family from finding out. She felt it was unnecessary to tell them because they wouldn't think twice about calling off the wedding. And she didn't want that. The mere thought of losing Bilal even after what he did was appalling. She felt it was all her fault, and a mistake on Bilal's side. She shouldn't have provoked him like she did. After the call with Mr. Idris, he had asked her what she did to Bilal, and even suggested that she apologized to him, just for peace to reign. But she hadn't done it yet. Bilal wasn't even speaking or looking her way. She was scared to even approach him. The memory of the last