Black Silk

CHAPTER 2

NADIA'S POV

It was Tuesday evening, just after work. I'd just gotten home and was heading downstairs to grab a quick drink before getting ready to head out.

The twins were on the sofa watching The Dumping Ground, eyes glued to the screen.

"Salaams, gorls," I said in my best Gru voice.

They both giggled. "Wa alaikum salaam."

"Where's Mum and Dad?"

"They went for a walk," Iman replied, without taking her eyes off the TV. "You just missed them."

I nodded, grabbed a juice from the fridge, and headed back upstairs.

⸻

I was sitting at my vanity, applying a soft beat: foundation, some warm-toned blush, a swipe of mascara, and my favourite nude gloss. My scarf — a brown chiffon one — was already tied neatly.

Just as I was setting my setting spray, Mum popped her head into the room.

"I made tea, want some before you go?"

I smiled. "Aww, you're the best, but I'm heading out in a sec. Going shopping with the girls."

She gave a knowing nod. "Okay then. Don't come back too late."

"I won't, promise."

At 6:20 p.m., I grabbed my bag and headed out, texting the girls on my way.

Me: Leaving now 🫶🏿
Daya✨: Already at the shopping centre. Meet me by Zara!
Tal😍: Just got here, trying to find parking 😩
Me: You and parking are always beefing 😂

⸻

The shopping centre was alive with after-work energy. I spotted Daya outside Zara, scrolling on her phone. She wore a flowy sage green dress, nude heels, a nude scarf, and looked absolutely stunning — as usual.

"Heyy, siss!" I said, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Look at you!" she smiled. "White boots? You're showing out tonight."

"Gotta match the vibe."

Five minutes later, Taliya strolled up in a baby blue pantsuit and white heels, swinging her black designer handbag.

"You're late," I said flatly.

She rolled her eyes. "It was the lot, not me."

We spent about an hour bouncing between Zara, H&M, and Sephora — trying on jackets, swatching lipsticks, and being unserious in the best way.

Taliya picked up yet another nude gloss.

"You don't even wear the last three you bought," I told her.

"Mind your business," she said, sliding it into her basket.

⸻

By 7:45 p.m., we were walking into our dinner spot — a modern Middle Eastern restaurant a few streets away. It had moody lighting, gold accents, and the kind of ambience that made you speak softer.

We were seated at a round table tucked near the back.

Menus in hand, Idaya suddenly spoke up.

"So... I may have invited Hamzah to join us."

"Hamzah? Your cousin?" I blinked. "He's back?"

"Yeah, got back last week. Just for a few weeks."

Taliya looked up from her menu. "Who's Hamzah?"