The man at the door

بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَٰنِ الرَّحِيمِ

Sulaiman stood at the doorway.

For a moment, nobody moved.

His eyes went straight to Aisha.

Then to her mother.

Something in his expression changed.

He had seen the fear on her mother's face.

“Aunty,” he said quietly, “we need to talk.”

Aisha's mother stepped forward immediately.

“You shouldn't be here.”

“I know.”

“Then leave.”

Sulaiman didn't move.

Aisha stared at him, confused.

“Why are you here?”

He looked at her.

“I came because I knew you'd find the letter.”

Aisha's breath caught.

“You knew?”

Sulaiman nodded slowly.

“I've known about it for years.”

Her mother's voice trembled.

“Sulaiman, enough.”

“No,” he replied. “It has gone too far.”

Aisha looked between them.

“What is going on?”

Nobody answered.

Her fingers tightened around the letter beneath her hijab.

“Who is my father?”

Her mother closed her eyes.

Sulaiman looked away.

That was when Aisha understood.

They both knew.

And whatever the truth was, it was something they had been hiding from her entire life.

“Mama,” Aisha whispered. “Please.”

Her mother finally looked at her.

Tears were running down her cheeks.

“Your father is not the man you grew up calling Baba.”

Aisha felt as though the room had suddenly become smaller.

“What?”

“He raised you,” her mother continued. “He loved you. But…”

She stopped.

“But what?”

Sulaiman stepped forward.

“Aisha, your real father is still alive.”

Her eyes widened.

“Where is he?”

Silence.

“Where is he?” she repeated, louder this time.

Her mother looked at Sulaiman.

Sulaiman nodded.

“He's in Katsina.”

Aisha's heart pounded.

“Who is he?”

Before anyone could answer, another sound came from outside.

A car had stopped in front of the house.

Her mother's face went pale.

Sulaiman turned toward the window.

Then he whispered,

“He's here.”

Aisha's lips parted.

“Who?”

Sulaiman looked at her.

“The man you've been told died seventeen years ago.”

Aisha couldn't breathe.

Her mother covered her mouth, trying to hold back a sob.

Outside, a car door opened.

Footsteps approached the house.

Slow.

Heavy.

Certain.

Then someone knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Aisha stared at the door.

Sulaiman moved closer to her.

“Whatever happens next,” he whispered, “don't believe everything you hear.”

The door opened.

And a man stepped inside.

Aisha looked at his face.

She had never seen him before.

But there was something familiar about his eyes.

Something that made her heart ache.

The man stared at her for a long moment.

Then he whispered her name.

“Aisha…”

Her mother began to cry.

The man took one step forward.

“My daughter.”

Aisha froze.

To be continued…