She opened the bathroom door and came out wrapped in a large, pure white towel. Her smooth, fair skin was radiant and captivating. She approached the dressing mirror in her room, pulled up a chair, and sat down, staring at her reflection. She felt uneasy and restless, his face constantly appearing in her mind. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong, especially with the sudden trip he had planned. She recalled his demeanor and the way he drove from Bauchi to Katsina, feeling as if he wasn't her Abbas. She was certain something significant was happening, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. They had parted with longing and affection as usual, even spending the morning chatting on the phone, sharing intimate conversations. But what had changed? "THERE IS SOMETHING," she whispered, moving her soft lips and looking away from her reflection. She picked up her fragrant lotion and began applying it to her skin with a mix of lethargy, anxiety, and worry. Every few minutes, she glanced at her phone, expecting his call. They had a routine where he would call her during his travels within Nigeria, but this time, there was no missed call or message from him. She wondered, "What is happening?" With determination, she dressed in a long Ankara gown, enhancing her beauty and figure. Despite her state of mind, she stood before the mirror, reflecting on who she used to be. Now, she felt like a different person, as everything seemed to change over time. She slipped on soft slippers and headed to the door, opening it and walking down the narrow corridor leading to the main living room. Before she reached the end, she saw her sitting in the living room, a person of great importance to her, someone she cherished deeply. Whenever she traveled, she made sure to be with her, filling her world with happiness. She felt her presence and looked away from the TV, smiling at each other simultaneously. She spoke first, "That long bath of yours is still the same; Affan started crying until he was taken out." Feeling weak and vulnerable, she sat close to her, ready to respond when her phone rang. She quickly checked the caller, her heart filled with hope. A smile escaped her lips as she sighed in relief. "I'll be right back," she told her mom, knowing she couldn't answer his call in front of her. Only she knew the intimate words they shared, and any mishap would be embarrassing. She returned to her room, sat before the mirror, and answered the call, "Assalamualaikum," she said softly, tilting her head. It was something he loved about her. He still saw her as the same person he admired years ago. "Wa'alaikumus salam," her heart sank at the sound of his voice, which had turned from its usual softness to a tone he used with criminals or subordinates at work, a tone she had never heard him use with her before.