<p> </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p>Talatu, with a resolute tone, said to Fahimah, “Give me Ammi’s phone in your hand after pressing my room’s number.” Fahimah did as instructed, forgetting completely that she had Ammi’s phone with her, as she had left her own at home. She quickly dialed Uwais’s number with trembling hands and handed the phone to Talatu.</p><p>Uwais picked up on the first ring as if he were in labor himself, anxiously waiting for an update. He was desperate to understand what had brought Amrah to their home and to Fahimah’s room in the dead of night. Where was Fahimah, and why had she left Amrah to answer a call at such an odd hour? He was sure things had gone terribly wrong. If only he had listened to his mother’s advice earlier, none of this would have happened.</p><p>Now, how would he explain this situation to Amrah in a way she’d understand? And what would she think of Fahimah? She’d never trust her again, no matter how much she loved her; today, that love would turn to hatred.</p><p>When Talatu explained the situation and the doctor’s diagnosis, Uwais felt as if a heavy weight had fallen on him. He wished he could fly to Nigeria immediately. His child—his flesh and blood—was now in jeopardy because of his mistake.</p><p>“Let me speak to the doctor,” he said urgently, his voice filled with distress.</p><p>He explained to the doctor that he was out of the country, and both her parents were unavailable. He gave his consent for an emergency C-section and any necessary treatment. He added, “Doctor, please, I beg you, don’t let me lose either of them. I love them both, and they mean the world to me. I’ve wronged her, and I want to ask for her forgiveness. If she dies in this condition, I will never forgive myself…”</p><p>His voice broke completely—so unlike the bold and courageous Uwais everyone knew. The doctor didn’t linger in conversation, recognizing he was not in a stable state, and they quickly prepared Amrah for surgery.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p>A few hours later…</p><p>“It’s a baby boy, but he was born lifeless. The mother is still unconscious and should wake up in the next two hours when the anesthesia wears off. You can see her then,” said the petite nurse to Ammi, handing her the baby wrapped in a white shawl.</p><p>Ammi, trembling, took the baby and uncovered his face. They all stared at him. He was the spitting image of Uwais—fair-skinned with no trace of Amrah’s features. Even his nails resembled Uwais’s.</p><p>Fahimah felt an overwhelming love for the baby, perhaps because of his resemblance to Uwais. She leaned against Ammi, crying and calling out for Uwais, but no one could answer his calls. Ammi instructed Fahimah to stay behind with Talatu while they took the baby for burial with the help of the security guard and some neighbors.</p><p>Not long after, Amrah was wheeled into the maternity ward. Fahimah followed as they placed her on a hospital bed and administered the necessary care before leaving the room.</p><p>Fahimah pulled a chair close to Amrah and sat, reciting prayers and blowing over her. Despite her deep desire for motherhood, especially since Uwais once said he’d love their children more than himself, she began to reconsider. If childbirth involved such severe risks, she thought it might be better to give up the idea altogether. Surely, this was one foot in the world and another in the afterlife.</p><p>The memory of the blood Amrah had lost filled Fahimah with dread. She resolved never to let herself conceive, leaving childbearing to Amrah and Uwais. In fact, she decided to abandon the idea of living with them altogether and return to stay with Ammi.</p><p>By around 10 a.m., Amrah slowly opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the light. As her gaze settled on the blood transfusion being administered to her, she realized she was in a hospital. How did she get there? Wasn’t she sleeping in Fahimah’s bed?</p><p>“Masha Allah, you’re awake, Aunty Amrah. Let me call the doctor,” Fahimah said, her voice bringing back memories of why Amrah was in the hospital. Amrah instinctively placed her hand on her stomach and felt emptiness. She immediately tried to sit up, but the doctor entered with Fahimah in tow and gently laid her back down.</p><p>“Be careful, madam; you’ve undergone surgery,” the doctor said before asking, “Are you alright?”</p><p>Amrah nodded faintly. She closed her eyes as Fahimah moved closer, asking if she could give her tea. The doctor suggested waiting for the nurse to bring it along with her medication.</p><p>Amrah kept her eyes shut, avoiding Fahimah. She wasn’t asleep, just unwilling to face her. This continued until Ammi returned.</p><p>Ammi, unaware that Amrah had woken up, began telling Fahimah that the baby had been buried. She prayed for them to have another blessed child and for the parents to find peace. She also mentioned that Uwais was on his way, though he hadn’t completed his trip.</p><p>Silent tears streamed down Amrah’s face. Her child was gone—all the suffering she endured during the pregnancy, all because of Fahimah and Uwais’s betrayal? Even if Uwais was the last man alive, she would have nothing more to do with him. The thought of facing her parents filled her with dread.</p><p>This overwhelmed Amrah, and she burst into loud sobs. Everyone assumed her grief was solely for the baby, unaware of the storm raging in her heart. How could she cope with all this pain?</p><p>Ammi held her hand, offering solace. “Please be patient, Amrah. Insha Allah, he will intercede for us on the Day of Judgment. He looked just like Uwais, as if made in his image. Pray to Allah to grant us a healthy, blessed child next time. Don’t despair.”</p><p>Amrah didn’t respond, her mind convinced that Ammi was complicit in Uwais and Fahimah’s actions. After all, they’d acted openly before her, and she was educated enough to know better. What could she say now? She decided she had already lost her child and her husband, and she was done.</p><p>Amrah refused food, drink, and all attempts to console her, leading Ammi to call the chief doctor, asking him to investigate further in case something else was wrong.</p><p>The doctor entered, asking everyone to leave so he could speak with Amrah alone. He sat by her bedside and said, “Madam, may I know what’s troubling you? I assumed you were a Muslim, aware that death comes to everyone—young and old. I thought you would accept this as destiny and pray for Allah to grant you another child soon.”</p><p>Through her tears, Amrah replied, “Doctor, I’m happy my baby is gone. At least Uwais will taste the pain I’ve endured. Now, my only concern is getting to Abuja. Please discharge me today and let me borrow your phone to call my driver.”</p><p>The doctor sighed, explaining that she couldn’t be discharged until after three days for medical reasons. He offered to inform her mother of her intention to leave once discharged, confident that Ammi would understand and personally take her to Abuja.</p><p>But Amrah snapped, “Doctor, I have nothing to do with them anymore. If you won’t help me, I’ll leave, even if it’s on foot!”</p><p>She continued sobbing uncontrollably. Unsure of how to handle her, the doctor decided to call Uwais, who had provided his contact number earlier. He explained Amrah’s condition to him.</p><p>Uwais felt utterly helpless, stuck abroad and unable to fly back immediately due to weather-related cancellations. He pleaded with the doctor to ensure she didn’t leave the hospital until her discharge date, promising to send her elder sister to escort her.</p><p>Later, Uwais called Jabeer, pouring his heart out. “I don’t even know where to start. You won’t excuse me, and neither will Amrah. But believe me, I intended to tell her everything once she safely delivered. Fate intervened, and now my mistake has cost me my baby…”</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p>
