BARAZANA

A chair creaked against the rough concrete floor. "You'd be attending the opening of Kellori's Islamiyya, right? Mallam Abdullahi invited us..." Lawal was in the middle of saying as he adjusted his seating on the small kujera, the food Laila had brought now being devoured by him.

Hassan stared at his friend in amusement, having no doubt that the fried rice and chicken stood absolutely no chance of surviving in the hands of his gluttonous friend. "Attend? So that Hajia Zubaida would be the next woman shouting at my door, calling me a mad man? A'a, I have work to do." Hassan chuckled, his hands steady on the wheels of the machine.

"You will definitely be missing out on..." Lawal stopped when he noticed the sudden change in Hassan's expression. The amusement that had been on his face only moments ago was completely gone, replaced by something that made Lawal's own smile slowly disappear. His eyes followed Hassan's gaze towards the small Nokia still resting in his hand.

He barely had time to ask what was wrong before the almost horrified look on his friend's face had him swallowing down a chunk of fried rice and almost choking on it. "Lafiya?" He coughed, one hand covering his mouth. Worried lines pressed deeply across his forehead as he placed the plate of rice down, using the sleeve of his kaftan to wipe his mouth.

Hassan's mouth hung agape, the amusement on his face vanished as he stared at the small notification that had come through on his old Nokia keypad phone. His heart nearly tumbled out of his chest. To him, it felt as though someone had pulled the rug from beneath his feet, and had he not been seated, he would have fallen. The words on the screen slowly became a blur as moisture gathered in the corner of his left eye.

"Haba, Hassan, ka yi magana mana. What happened?" Lawal questioned, shifting to the edge of his seat. "Is it Mama? Did something happen again? Me ke faruwa?" One question barely left his lips before another came pouring out, his eyes searching Hassan's face for an answer.

Hassan finally looked up from the screen, his red-rimmed eyes meeting those of his friend. For a moment, his lips parted, but nothing came out. "Lawal," he finally choked out, his voice hoarse.

"What?"

"Alert." He shook his head slowly, almost as though saying it aloud would somehow make it real. "Credit alert." Lawal's brows furrowed as Hassan swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the old Nokia in his hand. "Someone just transferred forty million naira into my account." For a moment, Lawal said nothing.

He stared at Hassan, then at the phone still clutched tightly in his hand. His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words. Forty million. The number sounded almost ridiculous when attached to Hassan's name.

"Subhanallah." Lawal finally breathed, sitting upright. "Miliyan arba'in?" His voice rose with disbelief. "Kaman yaya? Miliyan Arba'in kuma? How? Who? Miliyan arba'in fa ka ce?" He shook his head, his eyes widening as he stared at his friend. "Are you sure you're seeing it correctly? Maybe it was a mistake."

"No." Hassan's eyes travelled back to the message on his screen. "This was no mistake." He swallowed. "It came with a description."

Lawal's brows drew together. "What did it say?"

"For her treatment. Use it." Hassan responded, his mind desperately searching for who could have done such a thing.

He thought back to all the wealthy people he had sewn for, trying to place a face to the name. No one should have paid him anything close to forty million naira. He didn't charge that much, and he never allowed anyone to pay him more than what he believed his work was worth.

But whoever had done this, whoever this was, clearly knew his struggles. Normally, Hassan would have returned the money, but his mind immediately travelled to the sick woman he had at home. Her health was rapidly deteriorating, to the point that their only room now carried the rotten smell of human skin, while mosquitoes flew over her head at night and Hassan tried desperately to chase them away with a small mafichi.

Hassan's fingers tightened around his phone, his mind already made up about what he was going to do, despite his conscience screaming at him to do otherwise. He took one final look at the message before locking his phone.

꧁❦꧂

AN DAURA AURE

#WEDDING DINNER

Nana Rahina's Wedding

#RahinaAndAhmed #Ahnan2026 #Rahed #GaladimaMalumfashi

Banners and wedding posters were placed all over the venue. Light streamed from every direction, reflecting off the faces of some of the most influential people in the North, from politicians and businessmen to traditional title holders.

Faces were covered in makeup from the finest products, hands decorated with neat black and red henna, bright smiles exchanged between familiar people, and colourful Ankara outfits that seemed to fill every corner of the hall.

With so many beautifully dressed guests gathered under one roof, it was almost difficult to tell who the bride and groom were and where the celebration began.

The low rumbling of car engines swallowed the night as guests continued to arrive. Guards and soldiers stood stationed at every entrance, pistols and other security equipment strapped to their uniforms, their faces revealing nothing as they checked each arriving guest. One by one, couples stepped out of their cars, their names confirmed on tablets before they were ushered through the grand entrance.

The air was thick with the familiar scent of oud, attar and expensive perfumes, occasionally mixing with the aroma of food being served from the dining area. Waiters moved between the tables carrying trays of jollof rice, fried rice, grilled chicken and assorted Northern delicacies.

The hall was filled with multiple four-seater round tables, a silver platter, a single flower vase and a neatly printed wedding programme set simply yet elegantly on each table. Families chatted quietly amongst themselves, their voices blending into the soft music playing in the background, when a young lady in her mid-twenties walked towards the stage. Almost instantly, she had everyone's attention, conversations dying down as heads turned towards the stage.

Her carefully arranged hijab framed her face as she stepped confidently towards the centre of the stage. "Assalamualaikum." She cleared her throat, her voice reaching every section of the hall and capturing the attention of everyone present. "Today, we're all gathered in good health and wealth, Alhamdulillah." She said with a vibrant smile, earning a few murmurs of agreement from the crowd. "We're here not for anything, but to celebrate the union of our beautiful and beloved sister, Rahina."

Immediately, the hall erupted in cheers.

"As she's finally off the market jama'a! Just like that she's off the markettt" she added, prompting laughter. "And all her friends are like perioddd." A few voices screamed from the crowd and some loud ululations from the women. "And of course, we're here to celebrate her husband, Ahmed, as well, as Allah (S.W.T) has allowed this beautiful knot to be tied between them." She smiled warmly before turning towards the crowd. "I am Hauwa Isa Abdullahi, your host for today."

Her eyes wandered over the faces in the crowd, some familiar, others completely new to her. "And, of course, we have a beautiful evening planned for everyone, so I hope you're all ready to celebrate with our newlyweds."

Hauwa then proceeded to acknowledge some of the dignitaries present before turning towards the crowd. "I'll now call on Sheikh Muhammad Sani Umar for the opening prayers," she announced, and almost on cue, Mallam Muhammad walked towards the stage, adjusting the sleeves of his lengthy babban riga as he approached. The moment he was within close proximity, the microphone was extended towards him. "Sallu 'alan Nabiyil Kareem," he began.

"Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam," the crowd chorused in response. He then went on to recite Suratul Fatiha, Al-Falaq and An-Nas before offering prayers for the couple and wishing them a happy and blessed marriage. Once the prayers concluded, Hauwa returned to the microphone, ticking off a few of the items on the wedding programme while keeping the audience engaged.

"I know everyone is well refreshed and relaxed, but we're yet to have the most interesting moment of tonight." Her thick Fulani accent came through as she struggled to contain her excitement. "Please, join me as I welcome the bright faces of tonight! Kawayyen Amarya!"

She announced it with a wide smile, the soft music playing in the background was instantly turned up. Heads naturally turned towards the entrance as a group of young, beautifully dressed women in matching dark-purple Ankara walked into the hall, their steps soft and coordinated as they swayed gently to the rhythm of the music. The crowd erupted into cheers, while the women continued their graceful procession towards the stage.

"Ku tafa musu! Ku tafa musu!" Hauwa encouraged, and instantly, the hall was filled with the rousing sound of clapping. 'Aure-Yana-Da-Dadi' played in the background, with most people already having their phones out, camera flashes going off in every direction while others took live videos of what would no doubt be one of Kano's most prominent weddings. Once Kawayyen Amarya had finished showcasing their beautiful, soft dance moves, the music slowly changed into something softer and more intimate.

The lights in the hall completely went out, leaving only a few dim lights around the edges, before the spotlights shifted towards the entrance. The entire hall seemed to quiet down "Yanzu ku shirya," Hauwa's voice came through the speakers, her tone suddenly softer. "Sabida lokaci yayi! The moment we've awaited all night... our bride! Our princess! Our pride! Our joy! Our beloved, Rahina Abdullahi Galadima!"

The crowd saw her crystal shoes before her face finally came into view. A wave of excitement swept through the hall, followed by loud cheers and ululations as Rahina stepped forward, her fingers curled gently around the bouquet in her hands. Her veil fell softly over her shoulders, framing her face as she walked, her smile growing wider with every step.

Phones immediately rose into the air once more, everyone trying to capture a glimpse of the bride. Some women clapped with tears in their eyes, while others called her name, their voices blending with the music and the joyful noise filling the hall.

Rahina laughed softly, lowering her gaze as she took in the familiar faces around the hall. She couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she made her way to the stage, her gown trailing behind her as the crowd cheered. The feeling was surreal, seeing so many people present in one place just to celebrate her. Once seated, she adjusted her veil and glanced at her friends, still smiling.

Hauwa waited until the noise had died down before lifting the microphone again. "Okay, okay!" she laughed. "Now that our beautiful amarya is finally seated, let's move on to something a little more interesting." 

"We're going to play a game. The rules are very simple...or not. Kunsan ni." She smirked, and the audience sat at the edge of their seats. "I need all of Amarya's friends to come out." She instructed, and every bridesmaid made her way to the stage.

"We have seven beautiful ladies here, yanzu what I want from each of you, my educated baddies." She turned her attention to the women. "I'll give you a two-minute timer. Go into the crowd and grab any man of your choice! Any man pah, you know the men today are hot! Sun sha kamshi! So only pick a man you think will be a good partner, someone who would make a good husband," she said.

"Go!"

The hall erupted.

The seven women scattered in different directions, laughing and calling out as they searched the crowd. One bridesmaid spotted a man and immediately pointed at him, only to find another woman reaching him at the exact same time. They both burst out laughing, each insisting she had seen him first. Elsewhere, one of the men looked genuinely alarmed when a bridesmaid grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat, while his friends cheered and teased him.

"Time is going pah, time is going!" Hauwa announced over the microphone.

Anxiety crept into the bones of everyone present. People were eager to see who would pick who. "These women have good taste oo!" Hauwa laughed over the mic. "Time's up!" Fortunately, all the girls had returned with a man whom they had chosen. "Now, I want every woman to line up," Hauwa said, and they did as told. A balloon was then given to every lady present.

"I know we're all familiar with 'Pop the Balloon' show on YouTube, ko?" And the crowd hummed in excitement. "Well, today we'll be doing something similar. In each lady's hand is a red balloon. Seven of these women have hand-picked men from the crowd whom they believed would be a good husband." Hauwa winked, and the crowd went crazy. "But we want to know from the men if they are also interested in the woman who picked them."

"So each man would come up but will ONLY pop the balloon of the lady who caught his eye," Hauwa explained clearly. The crowd erupted again, clearly invested in the game now. "I know, I know." Hauwa smiled into the microphone, enjoying the excitement she had created. "And maybe we'll know whose marriage we will be attending next."

"Alhaji Aminu Dantata, you're up first." Hauwa called out "You got chosen by our very own Hajiya Rabi'atu. So I hope Akwai Kash" she said and the crowd laughed. She moved slowly, around the ladies before stopping. "Use the pin in your hand to pop the balloon of the woman who has caught your interest," Hauwa instructed, and the crowd immediately went silent, everyone waiting for Dantata to make his move.

Rabi'atu stood in the middle, her expression calm and her posture relaxed, yet her fingers kept tapping lightly against the balloon in her hand, a nervous habit no one seemed to notice. She swallowed when Dantata finally moved, her eyes following him like a hawk.

He took three steps past all the women who stood close to him. Just three steps, yet they were enough to reach her. Then, he stopped. Instantly her shoulders relaxed slightly, the smile on her face growing wider. She wouldn't be embarrassed today. With her smile still in place, she extended her ballon towards him but just as she did so, he gave her a low smirk, shook his head as though she was pathetic, then walked past her.

OOOF

The crowd went crazy almost instantly. The cold feeling that ran through her bones was indescribable. Her smile faltered as she began lowering her hands, already preparing herself for the embarrassment, when—

POP!

Her eyes squeezed shut as the balloon suddenly burst right in front of her. She opened them to find Aminu standing in front of her, a smug smile on his face. The crowd went wild again, cheering and clapping as Rabi'atu stared at him in disbelief.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it seems like we have our first couple for tonight! Give it up for Dantata and Rabi'atu!"

꧁❦꧂

A dark G-Wagon pulled up outside the grand hall, and somehow, the air itself seemed to shift, as though sensing the aura of whoever had just arrived. Asma'u's black heels came into view before she stepped out of the car, dressed in the same dark-purple anko, only she had gone the extra mile with the intricate stitches and stones around her neckline. Gold adorned her from the delicate details on her outfit to the jewellery resting against her skin, catching the light with every movement. Gold was her thing, and who would she be if she missed the chance to wear it like it belonged to her?

Her steps were slow, her hips swaying as she kept her gaze fixed towards the entrance of the hall. She glanced down at the wristwatch on her hand, the time only confirming how late she was. It was intentional, of course. She didn't like walking into a room when everyone else did. She preferred making an entrance. The moment she stepped into the hallway, she could feel the gazes following her, and she couldn't help but take pride in how she must have looked. She had taken extra care with her makeup, her outfit, and the now-dried henna design adorning her hands.

The low hum of music instantly greeted her as "Ali Jita" played through the speakers. She paused, her eyes taking in the hall and the event before her. It was nothing short of grand, exactly as she had expected from her mother and the elders. When it came to weddings, they made it a personal mission to ensure that every detail was perfect.

She made her way towards the table where some of the elders sat. Her mother wasn't present; according to her, it wasn't appropriate for a Gimbiya to show up at wedding dinners. Asma'u almost rolled her eyes when she remembered her mother's words. 'Asma'u, there's a level of respect that comes with status. There are places you should be seen in and others your feet shouldn't even be sighted. And as mothers, we don't attend these events.' She sighed, stopping herself from even trying to understand the logic behind her mother's words. To Asma'u, there was nothing wrong with attending a daughter's wedding and taking a few pictures to celebrate her.

"A'a'a, Asma'u! Ke ce wannan?" one of the women called as she approached the table. Asma'u quickly plastered a polite smile across her face, careful not to seem disrespectful. She greeted the women, who had somehow all decided that one table was enough for them, their laughter and chatter filling the space around them. Despite herself, Asma'u felt a small warmth settle in her chest at the sight. There was something precious about seeing mothers and elderly women smile so freely, their faces bright with genuine happiness. She knew enough about the lives they lived behind closed doors to understand that moments like this were not always easy to come by.

After a series of, "You've grown so much," "Where is our in-law?" "When will you settle down?" and, "You don't want to be old like us before settling in your home," Asma'u maintained her smile through every question, her composure never once slipping, before finally escaping and making her way toward another section, where her cousins and relatives were gathered. The chatter there was gentler, and her eyes immediately began scanning the table, expecting to find Rayyana. Her brows drew together as she went over every familiar face. Hamida. Hindatu. Mujeeba. Safiya. Asiya. Yet no... Rayyana.

Asma'u stopped. A strange uneasiness settled over her as her mind drifted back to last night. The evening had felt unusually cold, the silence in the house strange enough to feel almost deafening. If Rayyana had been home, she would have come knocking on Asma'u's door like she always did, crawling into her room for their ridiculous late-night conversations until one of them finally fell asleep. But she hadn't. And Asma'u had thought nothing of it. She had simply assumed Rayyana was exhausted from school, buried under projects and assignments.

Except...

Asma'u's eyes slowly moved over the faces around the table again. She hadn't seen Rayyana since the last time she went to school.

Her mind immediately wandered back to their conversation.

"Tell me, how's uni?"

"The usual. Boring lectures. People who like to show off, endless parties, exams, unexpected tests. Just the usual."

But now that she thought about it, Rayyana hadn't sounded like herself. She had seemed uncomfortable throughout the conversation, tugging at her fingers a little too hard, the nervous habit she only had when something was bothering her. When something was seriously wrong. Asma'u's stomach tightened.

And the scariest part? Rayyana had been the one excited about the wedding. The one who had insisted Asma'u come. The one who had practically convinced her to be here.

So why hadn't she shown up?

"Sannun ku." She crouched slightly as she greeted Mujeeba and the other girls around the table, exchanging a few quick hugs. "Has anyone seen Rayyana? Her phone's not going through," she asked, keeping her voice deliberately casual. Gulma travelled fast, and the last thing she needed was to say the wrong thing and have everyone drawing their own conclusions.

The moment she straightened, her eyes drifted toward a table not far from theirs.

Umar.

Sani Umar.

Her gaze shifted, landing on Rufaida beside him. The woman had both arms wrapped tightly around her husband, but her eyes were fixed on Asma'u, shooting daggers so sharp they could have cut through skin. Worse, Umar was looking at her too.

The two of them made Asma'u uncomfortable. She met their stares without flinching, every instinct in her wanted to hold their gaze, to show them she didn't cower, that neither of them could touch a single hair on her head if they tried. But she had other priorities right now. So, with a final glance, she tore her eyes away from them.

"No, we haven't seen her," someone replied.

Ironically, this was exactly what Rayyana had looked forward to. Sani Umar beside his wife, his face completely ashen from being in Asma'u's presence, yet Rayyana was nowhere to be found.

All thoughts of the wedding turned to dust in Asma'u's mind. The MC's voice in the background, the cheers of the crowd, the laughter and music, everything blurred into a distant hum until none of it seemed real anymore.

She stood completely still.

Only one question settled deep in her chest.

Where is Rayyana?

꧁❦꧂

FRIDAY, MAUN

18:45 PM

RAYYANA

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice laced with confusion as she stared at the tall buildings passing by outside the window. "Let me out, Mahmud." A frown settled across her face as she turned towards him. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice cracked slightly, the frustration in it becoming harder to hide.

She studied him for a moment, only to find an entirely unbothered expression on his face. The dark shades rested comfortably on the bridge of his nose as one hand remained steady on the steering wheel, guiding the car around a corner. He didn't even spare her a glance, seemingly unaffected by her questions and the small, frustrated whimpers that escaped her lips as though they had little to no effect on him.

When the car came to a stop, she looked out the window. A ten-storey building stood before her, its dark windows rising into the evening sky. The streetlamps lining the roadside were completely dead, leaving the street dark and eerily silent, save for the warm light spilling through the windows of the hotel ahead.

Rayyana swallowed hard. "Why are we here, Mahmud?" she asked, trying to mask the quiver in her voice and the way her hands had begun to shake. The car carried the faint smell of cologne and the remnants of cider, making the enclosed space feel even more suffocating.

He said nothing, allowing the silence to stretch until her fears only grew worse. Then, finally, he twisted the key and turned off the engine. Removing the shades from his eyes, he turned to face her. "Calm down, boɗɗi." His tone was nothing short of gruff. The corner of his mouth twisted into something almost sick. "I'm not going to kill you." He paused, his gaze unfiltered as it settled on her. "Not yet."

"Then what are we doing here?" she almost shouted, while he remained completely composed. Her eyes returned to the signboard outside.

CRYSTAL HOTEL.

The building alone sent chills down her spine. It was unnecessarily tall, its darkened windows stretching high above them, while there were little to no people outside. The entire place felt eerily empty, and for some reason, Rayyana couldn't shake the feeling that she shouldn't be there.

"You're about to find out." He responded, unstrapping his seat belt. His sharp gaze assessed her, taking in the single tear that had trailed down her cheek. Something in his eyes almost softened, but whatever it was, it disappeared just as quickly as it had come. "Out." His tone was sharp, unyielding.

"What?" Rayyana asked, her voice laced with confusion.

"Are you deaf? Get out." He gritted, his voice low and rough, leaving no room for argument.

"What do you mean, out? I—I don't know where I am, w—where you've brought me. There's literally no service here and—" She was still speaking when he let out a long, impatient sigh before stepping out of the car, slamming the door shut so hard the entire vehicle seemed to shake.

Rayyana was still a mess. Her veil had completely come loose, her bag discarded somewhere in the back seat while her dankwalli barely remained in place on her head. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling heavily as she watched him round the car before stopping beside her door.

Gripping the handle, he opened the door, a fresh wave of night air hitting her cold cheeks. "Get out, boɗɗi. You have a habit of making me repeat myself, but this is the last time I swear. Get out." His stance remained casual, his voice anything but. He adjusted the cuffs of his kaftan, his fingers tapping impatiently against the edge of her window as his patience slowly wore thin.

"Please, Mahmud." Her voice was soft. "I can't do this anymore. It was one night, one mistake. Please, let this go." Her voice completely shattered, a few hiccups escaping her. "Dan Allah, ka yi hakuri." She didn't get to finish before his hand reached out and pulled her forcefully from the car. A loud, surprised yelp escaped her lips.

Mahmud didn't spare her a glance as he turned and made his way towards the building, his grip around her arm firm like a vise as she struggled to free herself. "This is haram, Mahmud! You can't keep touching me like I belong to you. Ka sake ni! Mahmud you're hurting me!" She no longer bothered keeping her voice down. She was angry, angry at him for doing this to her, and even angrier at herself for making a mistake big enough to let it happen.

"You're a psychopath, you know that? Psychopath! You should be disgusted with yourself, Mahmud! Ka sake ni, nace!" Her voice rose with every word, the anger and fear fighting for space in her throat.

His brows drew together as she continued tugging at his grip, desperately trying to free her arm, even going as far as hitting his back with her free hand.

"If my father finds out what you're doing, wallahi, you'll—" She was still speaking when he came to an abrupt stop, making her stumble forward and nearly collide with his back.

Slowly, he turned to face her, his height towering over her. His eyes had gone completely dark, his face unreadable. "I'll what, Boɗɗi? I'll what, hmm?" he asked, taking a slow step towards her. "Regret it?" A low chuckle left him, a small, humourless smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Now listen here, Boɗɗ. " His voice dropped. "I think you're forgetting who I am, and exactly what I am capable of." His eyes traced every line of her face, lingering on the tears slipping down her cheeks. "My love, your family couldn't touch me if they tried. You think your father has power?" He chuckled again. "Mu muka Gina ku. Power starts and ends with us. Yan sakwatto." His gaze travelled over her tear-streaked face, taking in the trembling lips, the little hitch in her breathing, committing every detail to memory. "Shhh." His voice softened as his palm came up to her face, his thumb catching a tear before it could fall. "Don't cry, my precious gem, You'll ruin your pretty face." he sang softly, almost tenderly.

But the tears didn't stop.

Something shifted in his expression.

He released her wrist and took two slow steps back, putting space between them as though nothing had happened. "So quit your threats of telling your father. We both know they're empty." His eyes remained fixed on hers. "You wouldn't risk it." He said it with the calm certainty of someone who already knew her answer.

"I mean, personally, I have no problem if you tell him. But we both know whose reputation will be at stake." He stepped closer, slowly erasing the space between them until she had to tilt her head back to look at him. He bent towards her ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me, Boddi, how will Garba Galadima feel when he finds out that his very precious and virgin daughter isn't so virgin after all?"

"You wouldn't dare." She gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I mean, you're the one who seems to want it out in the open." He chuckled, his fingers moving lazily through his beard as though they were discussing something completely ordinary.

Her eyes narrowed through the tears. "Is that why you want to marry my sister?" The question slipped out before she could stop it. Something in her face changed. The tears were still there, but beneath them came a sudden, sickening realization.

"Jealous?" His lips curved faintly. "Don't worry, Boddi. I have no interest in your sister." His hand moved to the side of her face, gently caressing her cheek. She shivered at his touch, instinctively recoiling. "Or any woman." His thumb brushed her skin. "I have eyes only for you."

He took another step forward, but she immediately stepped back. He paused, his eyes dropping to the space she had put between them. The smirk on his face slowly disappeared. "I advise you to stop running away from me, Boddi. And stop screaming. You're giving me a headache." He turned away from her. "I own this building, and tonight, it's just us." He glanced over his shoulder, his expression utterly calm. "Scream all you want."

With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing through the doorway and leaving her standing there, frozen in place.

The cold hit her harder once she was alone.

What had she gotten herself into?

The crickets around her suddenly seemed louder, their endless chirping impossible to ignore. She became painfully aware of just how quiet and eerie the place was. It felt as though she were in the middle of nowhere, even though she knew she was still in Kano.

Her eyes moved towards the bushes surrounding her, and a shiver tore through her body. She felt as though eyes were watching her from every direction, even though she knew she was completely alone. Still, she looked around once more, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. Then, with one last glance at the darkness around her, she hurried towards the building.

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A LITTLE AUTHOR'S NOTE 🤍

My loves, if you've been enjoying Tailor Na, please, please tell someone about it. 🥹 Share it with your friends, recommend it to someone who loves Arewa romance, talk about it, scream about it, anything! Word of mouth means so much to a small author like me, and every single person you bring here genuinely helps this story grow. I would love nothing more than for us to watch Tailor Na become something BIG together. So please don't gatekeep me 😭❤️ Tell your friends, send them the link, and let's make this little story of mine the next big thing. I love and appreciate every single one of you more than you know. Thank you for being here. 🤍