She was consumed by deep anguish, a searing pain burning beneath her heart, radiating through her body and tormenting her mind. It felt as though she should clutch her head and scream out loud—for Laweezi had destroyed their happiness and caused the death of her parents.

With great effort she masked her torment, stretching her lips into a smile as though nothing troubled her. “What you said is true, Noorul Hayat,” she whispered. “We must start probing into Laweezi—find out what he’s really up to. From the first day I set eyes on him, something in my heart snapped. My instincts screamed at me that he was no good.”

“That’s why I never wanted Zainab to marry him in the first place. But she was stubborn, blinded by pride. She swore she’d rather die than live without him.”

“Hmmm… Zeey made the greatest mistake of her life. That is why she now faces the storms of trials. And Ummi—she was unfair. Instead of blessing her, she cursed her. Even her final breath was taken in anger. How can Zainab ever prosper when her parents left this world displeased with her?”

“That’s the only relief she got,” Aunty Maijiddah said softly.

“Yes. You are right.”

Their voices trailed on, heavy with sorrow and pity for poor Zainab, who now stood alone in the whirlwind of pain and threats from her ex-husband, Laweezi.

---

Zainab entered her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, wrapped herself in a towel, and slipped into the bathroom. She bathed quickly, then dressed in a long black gown. No makeup, no adornments—just lotion rubbed into her skin. She lay on her grand bed, clutching her phone to her chest, her mind spinning with Laweezi’s threatening words. They echoed in her head like chains, dragging her deeper into dread.

She tossed and turned, searching for an escape from the torment. She knew Laweezi well enough: whatever he vowed to do, he would carry out. Their three years of marriage had taught her that much. In fact, she could write his character down on paper without a single mistake. At first, she hadn’t understood who he truly was. But as their marriage deepened, she discovered his hidden, ugly nature—a man who disguised himself well in public.

As her thoughts raged, her phone rang. With a sigh of irritation, she sat up and checked the screen. Another strange number. It had become routine—unknown numbers calling her daily. She frowned, wondering if MTN itself had grown tired of his endless line changes.

Her instincts warred: one part urging her to answer, another warning her not to—what if it was Laweezi again? Just as she made up her mind, the call cut off. She hissed.

“Good for whoever it is,” she muttered bitterly. “May the line choke you.”

But before she could drop the phone, the number rang again. This time, anger surged. She pressed accept.

“Who the hell is this drunk disturbing me with calls!?” she snapped.

On the other end, the caller’s chest burned with rage at her insult. “Did you just call me a drunk, Zeey?”

Her heart froze. That voice. No matter how much time passed, she could never forget it. Laweezi. Her tormentor. Her doom.

Fear gripped her body like icy chains. Her skin prickled, sweat burst forth until she was drenched as if she had plunged into the sea. She could not speak.

Laweezi sighed heavily, his tone dripping with feigned affection. “Angel… why are you silent? What troubles you, Zeey baby?”

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst. Summoning courage, she forced her trembling voice to speak. “Why… why do you keep calling me all the time?”

“Haba, Angel,” he said smoothly. “I just want to hear your breath, not questions. Forget the past. Let’s start anew. Come back to me, let’s build the perfect marriage we once dreamed of.”