Chapter Three

In the opulent living room, Khalid, a billionaire in his early thirties and the tormented nephew of a multi-billionaire reclined on an exclusive royal cushion. The room exuded elegance, adorned with lavish decorations and expensive materials, enough to bewilder even the most ordinary visitor. Engrossed in a file, his briefcase beside him, Khalid's handsome exterior belied the turmoil that raged within him. 

Unbeknownst to him, his aunt entered the room and settled beside him. Despite her presence, he remained lost in his thoughts. She gazed at her nephew's chiseled face, a reminder of her daughter. Maryam, an elegant and beautiful woman, exuded an aura of piety, her warm eyes and gentle smile always extending a heartfelt welcome. Yet, like Khalid, she harbored her own concealed troubles, expertly masked behind her gentle facade. Her body seemed to defy age, an ally that favored her youthful appearance.

"Are you alright, my son?" Maryam inquired, concern etched across her face. There was no response from Khalid, lost in his thoughts until her gentle touch on his shoulder forced him to look at her.

"Aunt!" he exclaimed, surprised to find her beside him.

"When did you come here?" he asked.

She responded with a warm smile, saying nothing.

"You seem distracted. Is everything okay?" he inquired.

"I'm fine," Khalid replied wearily, "I just returned from work, and I'm exhausted."

"You're always exhausted," she said, her voice tinged with worry. She lightly squeezed his hand. "You need to rest, Khalid. Take care of yourself and find some peace of mind. You're overworking yourself."

"I don't want to see you suffer again," she added after a moment of silence.

"Auntie, I'm fine," Khalid reassured her. "I'm not thinking about anything. It's just that the new workers in the warehouse aren't performing well, and it's frustrating."

"Hmm," she sighed, unconvinced. "You've been using that excuse for months. Come up with something more convincing. By now, those workers are veterans."

"Alright then, I'm hungry, Amor," Khalid said, cupping her face and forcing a bright smile. He didn't want to burden her further.

"We've been waiting for you," she informed him with a smile of her own, knowing that his smile was just for her sake.

The dining room was as elegant as the rest of the house, adorned with white and golden furniture. On one side of the room were traditional cushions and a soft carpet, meant for dining in the traditional style. A large family photo frame on one wall portrayed a perfect family image, which was far from the truth.

"Khalid, look who's here," Maryam said.

"Ina wuni (good afternoon), Uncle," Khalid greeted.

"Lafiya lau, How are you, son?" Alhaji Muhammad inquired.

"I am good, Alhamdulillah."

"Hey kiddo, put your phone down," Khalid told his younger brother Fahad, who was engrossed in his cell phone.

"Just a minute, bro. I'm reading a post Khairat shared on Instagram," Fahad excused himself.

"What did she post?" Khalid asked.

"It's a photo of her baby," Fahad replied with a growing smile. "And the baby girl looks like..."

Fahad couldn't finish his sentence as he noticed everyone's eyes on him. The room had suddenly taken on an awkward atmosphere. Fahad felt annoyed by his family's pretentiousness and their habit of portraying a perfect family image, even when they were far from it. As the youngest member, he often had to deal with their adult problems and restrictions, particularly concerning the name 'Lawisa.' He was delighted when his sister Khairat named her baby girl Lawisa, but the poor baby was rarely called by her name, especially by their parents, who had a multitude of nicknames for her. Everyone, except him and Khairat, practically called her "Lulu."

"Sorry," Fahad muttered in a small voice, avoiding their gaze.

"Keep your cell phone down now. Let's eat; the food is getting cold," Muhammad ordered softly. Fahad simply nodded and complied.

After lunch, Muhammad and his wife found themselves sitting in the mini parlor of their bedroom, each lost in their thoughts, yearning for a way to restore perfection to their fractured family, a task that seemed increasingly impossible.

"I'm deeply worried about Khalid. He's profoundly disturbed, and it terrifies me," Maryam confided in her husband.

"Hmm," Muhammad sighed, taking a deep breath without focusing on anything in particular. "Ever since his wife's death, he's been like this. I share your concern, Maryam."

"Alhaji, you know very well that Khalid's distress isn't solely about his wife's death. Many things happened back then, compounding his pain," she concluded with a heavy sigh.

"Maryam, I thought you promised never to bring that up again."

"Everyone else is moving on except my dear son and me. This whole situation worsened because I remained silent before, and you still want to stay silent now. Please, Alhaji," she implored. "I can't forget what's a part of me."

Seeing his wife in tears, Muhammad's concern showed on his aging face. "Whenever you talk about it, you cry, and then you blame me. I can't stand to see that sadness in your eyes," he lamented with a sigh.

"Whatever happened, we share the responsibility for it. Those two girls endured immense hardship, and we were unable to help either of them. We were too absorbed in our own lives to notice how desperate our children were. May Allah forgive us for neglecting them," Maryam said, her cheeks glistening with tears. Her husband pulled her into a comforting embrace, patting her back as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"God's plan shaped their destiny. It was bound to happen one way or another, and His ways are the best. We can't keep blaming ourselves back and forth. We were wrong, and we only realized it when it was too late," he admitted, his guilt evident.

"All we can do is pray to Ar-Rahman for His blessings and guidance for my child, wherever she may be," he prayed, and Maryam could only sob in response, with silence settling over the room before she spoke again.

"Will my child ever come back to me? I long to hold her so dearly. Will she ever return home? I fear I may never see my child again in this lifetime." Muhammad didn't reply but held her even closer.

Two weeks passed rapidly, and Lawisa and Zarah's lives continued with their usual routine. On a rainy evening that left a slight chill in the air, they lounged in their small apartment. The soft patter of raindrops against the windowpane created a soothing backdrop to their cozy world. 

"Mommy, please hurry up," Zarah pleaded with her mother. Lawisa was preparing hot chocolate  for them in the dining area, which was part of their cozy living room. Their apartment consisted of only two bedrooms, one combined bathroom  and toilet, along with a small living room and a kitchen.

"Here's your hot chocolate, Missy. Drink up," Lawisa handed Zarah a cup.

"Thank you, Mommy. Can I turn on the TV now?"

"Hmm, what are we going to watch?"

"Nicky Ricky Dicky and Dawn!" Zarah exclaimed.

"You haven't finished your homework, and you're already thinking about watching TV."

"Please, Mommy, let me watch. Please, please."

"It starts at around 7 pm, okay? You still have time to do your homework. Go get your backpack, hurry," Lawisa said, and they both shared a smile as Zarah nodded and scurried off to her room.

However, when Zarah reached her room, she let out a piercing scream, which immediately sent Lawisa running to her aid.

"What happened, my love?" Lawisa asked as she met Zarah at the doorstep, Zarah hid behind her mother's long legs.

"Momma, there is a big, giant spider in my room."

"Did it touch you?"

"No, but it touched everything in my room," Zarah cried.

"It's okay, shush, stop crying now. You know princesses don't cry, right?"

"Nothing is going to happen; you're alright. It didn't touch you. Your skin is perfect, my love," Lawisa assured, checking Zarah's body and then giving her a comforting hug.

"It touched my Mickey teddy," Zarah cried out again.

"Come on, love, you're going to end up with a headache if you keep crying."

"Go and watch your cartoon, and Mommy will clean up your room. Take your bag with you."

"I don't want to touch anything from this room until it's cleaned up," Zarah assured her mother in her sweet, cute voice and left as if she hadn't been crying. A few minutes later, Lawisa could hear her daughter's laughter from the living room, and her lips curved into a smile unknowingly.

"Do you have to come here, Mr. Spider? You've upset my baby so much, and now I have to clean everything."

Lawisa kept nagging herself about too many insects in the house, even though she was exaggerating. As she finished cleaning up, she returned to the living room to find Zarah sound asleep on the sofa. She smiled at her daughter. They said children are blessings, and who said they aren't? She thought. She was always content with Zarah.

"You look so beautiful when you're sleeping, Zarah, and even when you're not sleeping. You're the most adorable little girl," she murmured, gently rubbing her back to wake her up.

"Lala, wake up; it's Maghrib time, and you know it's not good to sleep at this time."

Zarah groaned at first and asked, "Mommy, have you cleaned my room?"

"Yes, dear, and I even used insect killers." She smiled when she saw that Zarah was fully awake. "Now, can we go and pray, Miss Zarah Aliyu?"

"Of course, Mommy dear."

"My dear Lord, I pray for my Mom every day, so that she will be healthier than today and yesterday and stronger than my Daddy. Mom said he's a good man, but I don't know him. Almighty Allah, I want you to allow my Dad to find us, since Mom said he's the only one who can find us. Mom doesn't want to talk about him, but I pray she's not upset with me praying for my Daddy. Ya Allah, keep my Mom happy and give her lots and lots of energy. Our science teacher said everyone needs energy to be strong, and my Momma can work hard and stay with me forever and ever. Ameen, ya Rabb."

Zarah usually prayed like this during Maghrib and Fajr prayers because they were the prayers children typically did. However, she also prayed whenever she saw her Mom praying. Lawisa wondered what Zarah was asking Allah for, as she never disclosed the content of her prayers. She remembered when she was a child, she prayed to spend her holidays with her entire family.

"Zarah, I think it's okay now."

"What is it, Mommy?" Zarah asked, still looking confused.

"Well, your wishes are bigger than this house," Lawisa joked while smiling at Zarah, who was still sitting on the prayer mat.

"No, Momma, because you said that we can ask Almighty Allah for anything good we need and that our prayers might take a long time to be answered, but Allah always answers them."

"Indeed, Zarah and I want to tell you something. Come over here; let's talk." Zarah sat beside her mom on the bed.

"Zarah, you know you're my baby, right? And also my favorite daughter."

Zarah looked at her mom and burst into laughter.

"What's so funny, love?"

"Mommy, I'm your only daughter, so I have to be your favorite. Otherwise, you wouldn't have any favorites." Lawisa nodded, looking amused.

"Is that so? Don't act smart with me, you little girl." Lawisa started tickling Zarah, and they both burst into fits of laughter. After a while, they stopped, both breathing heavily from their laughing episode.

"Mommy, what were you going to ask me?" Lawisa grimaced and said,

"Princess, I got carried away and forgot what I was going to ask you."

"It's okay, Momma. When you remember, you can always talk to me." Lawisa squeezed Zarah in her arms and showered her with kisses, and another fit of laughter began.

Alhaji Muhammad had just arrived at his factory site, accompanied by three men walking beside him. As he was walking, he unexpectedly bumped into his daughter, and a bright smile appeared on his face, which she reciprocated.

"Abbah!" she exclaimed.

"Alkairin Allah (Allah's blessings). What are you doing here?"

"Good afternoon, Abbah," she greeted.

"Good afternoon. How are you, my dear?"

"I'm doing great. I came to check the merchandise that arrived yesterday from Thailand and the items from our farmhouse, and everything is fine now."

"Well, that's good to hear. How is my granddaughter doing?" He asked with his always soft and wise smile. Muhammad was the kind of man you never had to complain about; he used to be a proud father of his five children, and they saw him as their hero. They used to have a very good relationship, but things had fallen apart, and everything had changed, changes they all hoped wouldn't be permanent.

"She's fine, Abbah. I left her back at the company with her nanny."

"Alright, carry on with your work. I will check on your brother; I was told he's also here."

"Okay, Abbah, I will come with you to see him," Khairat said and smiled. Muhammad's smile held more significance than a simple greeting because Khairat didn't even like to meet Khalid by accident. She blamed him for her sister's heartache.

"I'm glad you're reconciling with your brother."

"I've given up, Abbah, but I haven't lost hope. I can't turn a blind eye to it, and I can't pretend I don't have an elder brother anymore. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused," she apologized.

"It's okay, Khairat. Humans make mistakes; it's part of life. You're a brave child."

"Thank you, Abbah."

"You'll always be welcome, my child."

"Uncle!" Khalid exclaimed upon seeing his uncle. "Good afternoon, Uncle."

"How are you, Khalid?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Hi, Khairat!" Khalid greeted, not expecting much. He had gotten used to Khairat's silent treatment over the years, and it had hurt him deeply. She used to be his baby sister, and he was always willing to do anything for her.

"Good afternoon, Ya Khalid," Khalid turned his back to see who was behind him, but no one was there. To say he was shocked would be an understatement; he couldn't remember the last time she greeted him or even smiled at him.

"Are you..."

"Yes, I am greeting you. Did I offend you?" She interrupted him, and his lips curved into a fine smile.

"No, I'm glad my little sister is back. Thank you," he said, unable to contain his happiness, and he turned to his uncle.

"Invite your husband over for dinner," he added, and she nodded in agreement.

"Home sweet home," Khairat thought to herself upon entering the large living room of her parents' mansion. She hadn't visited them that often in recent years, even when she got married and moved to the same city as them. She only came casually and called to greet her parents from time to time, fulfilling her responsibilities towards them. She hugged her mother tightly and let out a sob, realizing she had missed the woman she was hugging so much.

"Mamy, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Shush now. You are my princess, so I'm also very sorry." Khairat pulled her brother's ears as he came from behind their mother, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Ouch," he moaned as if his ears had been removed.

"Haba, Yaya Khair, don't remove my ears. Why are you so jealous of me?" Fahad complained while still rubbing his left ear. They all burst into fits of laughter.

"Oh, look at my beautiful granddaughter," Maryam said while taking her out of the baby seat. She kissed the baby's forehead.

"How is your husband, my dear?"

"He's alright, Mams, and he'll be joining us for dinner tonight."

"Let's have lunch, and then we can talk later," Khalid suggested, and Muhammad only stared at them, feeling his prayers becoming more effective, Insha Allah.

Later, they talked, had fun, and enjoyed each other's company. The laughter that hadn't been heard in that mansion for ages filled the air that day. Happiness crossed their paths after such a long time. Khairat connected her iPad to a video call and called her eldest sister, Khadija, to show her what she was missing.

"Good evening, Ayya!"

"Wa alaikumus salam to you too. Where is Lulu?" Khadija asked, always making a big deal about answering a call with the greeting, which her sister hadn't learned or was just teasing her.

"Amin, Ayyah, she is sleeping. What happened? You're looking a bit down," Khairat asked, noticing her sister's gloomy face.

"Khair, wallahi, I'm so bored here. The children are watching their favorite show in the living room, and the telenovela I'm watching is so boring today. I don't have any cases to handle, and my husband had to travel this week. Ya Allah. What about you, little sis?" Khadijah told her, sounding frustrated.

"Well, you can only imagine how great I am and where I am right now."

"Oh, sis, don't tell me you've traveled abroad again. But the curtains behind you are from our home, so don't tell me you're at home with everyone."

"Yes, of course, Ayyah, I'm at home with Mamy, Abbah, Yaya Khalid, Fahad, Faruk, and Lulu. We're having a big family day without you."

"Mamy! Abbah!" she shouted out while Khairat showed the iPad to them.

"Abbah, this is not fair. Look how sad I am, but you're all there having fun without me. And Mamy, you didn't even bother to tell me about it. And where is the Basketmouth?" She complained, referring to Fahad as "Basketmouth," and then continued.

"If you all had told me about it, I would have flown to Kano today." She said, and she meant it.

"Come on, Khadija, here I am thinking you're the eldest but acting the exact opposite. You're overreacting, you know that, right? Where are my grandchildren?"

"Okay, Mamy, you're trying to change the subject. And Abbah, won't you say anything?" He smiled at her and said,

"Don't be sad anymore because we're all happy here."

"Okay then, I am happy for you. At least, I know you're all fine and together, Abbah." She called for her children to come and join her, and they rushed to the room. They all asked for Uncle Khalid, their favorite uncle, as he knew best how to spoil them. They had a long night and enjoyed every bit of it. Even the moon and the stars witnessed their happiness, and they all hoped for the beginning of something new.