Dasuki State.
2023
Nabeel lay back on the bed, staring at the email he’d received for what felt like five minutes. He knew it was real, but he didn’t want to believe it. An invitation to perform at the Forbes Leading Men event in Paris—this year.
He wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or sad. He was supposed to be preparing for his wedding during Eid, but now he had to be in Paris in a week. The timing couldn't be worse. But how could he decline? This could be his chance to get back at the organization he used to work for—show them that it was their loss when he left.
Still, after what happened yesterday, he wasn’t sure whether he should go, even though he didn’t want to miss this opportunity.
"Apparently, Alh. Yabo and Bello escaped prison tonight," Yazid’s words rang in his ears, loud and clear. He could still hear the loud thump that followed— the sound of someone collapsing to the ground. That person was Nini. She fainted.
He thought about his family—especially now, when it felt like they needed him more than ever. He had to make a decision—fast. This was the moment they needed to stand together and face whatever was coming, together.
If Alh. Yabo and Bello were still out there lurking, they weren’t safe. He could still remember walking into the hospital room where his mother had been admitted, the doctor pulling the sheet on her face. And the time he picked up Sauban from the plaza. He remembered those moments so clearly. They were vivid in his memory.
He had to make sure there wouldn’t be another corpse on account of Alh. Yabo or Bello. It wasn’t even a choice. It was his duty.
His phone started ringing. He didn’t answer immediately. It rang several times before he finally picked it up. The caller ID read: Zakir.
Please don’t tell him he’s heard about the breakout. He clearly remembers what he told him before the court hearing started: if the court didn’t punish them accordingly, I know what to do. And he wasn’t joking.
Reluctantly, he answered the call and put it on speaker.
“Nabeel?”
This wasn’t Zakir’s voice. It was a woman’s—an older woman, to be precise. Her voice was shaky, almost sickly, like she was struggling to speak. She repeated his name as if trying to confirm it was really him.
He didn’t answer, he was waiting for an explanation.
“It’s me, your grandmother. Your maternal grandmother.”
The woman who gave birth to his mother—or, more accurately, the Madamé of a brothel filled to the brim with prostitutes.
Suddenly, he felt a wave of disgust, anger, even hatred. She made him cringe. Irritated. Disgusted. But still, he answered.
“Hello.”
Was there anything else to say?
“I want you to come see me in the next 24 hours,” she said, her voice delicate yet audacious, demanding. “I don’t have much time left. You’d better come if you don’t want to regret it.”
“Why would I do that?” He asked, Making it evident in his tone that she doesn't owe him nor is he one of the prostitute's seeking shelter from her.
“I know you have a lot of questions,I have answers. If you come, you’ll get those answers.”
“I’m not sure you have the answers I’m looking for,” He said, skepticism lacing his words.
“If you come, you’ll see,” she replied before the call ended, followed by a text:
YOU ARE READING
ORNAMENTS✅
Mystery / Thriller©2024 COPYRIGHTS. ❝It's you i want not your virginity, literacy or marriage count.❞ Nabeel became her shadow, her protector in a world that had abandoned her. He fought for her, bled for her, and, in the end, claimed her as his own. In his arms, she...
