She didn't know what she had just done or could she believe it all. Did she just sign the paper that said she was Hammad's wife and she saved his life? She had told the nurse that she would go back home, after they had rushed him into the theatre room. The thought now made her laugh. Why? She thought this hospital didn't treat patients until payment was done? Wasn't it just few hours ago Kulthum's mother was on the verge of death, and it was obvious they had spent days, if not months, here with her? But for the money, she was given hours to live or die.

And here, the son of a billionaire was brought, too, at the verge of death and he was swiftly taken to the theatre room. And even though his 'supposed' wife was there, she wasn't asked to make a payment, yet. She was asked to just sign, as they couldn't afford to be sued because if things went wrong and he ended up dying, they had been given the full permission to.

She saw Aisha sleeping on the floor under her head tie and when she walked toward Kulthum and her son, Rasheed, she heard them talking. "I've tried all I could, Iyami, but I couldn't get the money. I worked so hard for the last month that I even missed my lectures, but I wasn't able to raise much money. And half of it was used for Iya Agba's hospital fees."

Kulthum cut him off, "I can't afford to have you drop out from the university, Rasheed. You just started last year, you're going to be done with your level one now, isn't it? Why don't you defer the semester?"

"Iyami," he said lovingly and placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes that she had been avoiding. "This doesn't mean you're less of the great mother that you are. It simply means that we can't afford to have me go to the university now. And if it weren't for Iya Agba's sickness, we used to be so well to do with your salary. But we can't do that anymore and I understand." He smiled when tears rolled down to her cheeks and wiped them with his thumb. "I'm dropping out of school for a few years, I'd be back when I've worked so hard and got the money to do that. Aisha will school as well, I promise."

She broke into tears, and because Yusrah was fed up with seeing everyone crying while she couldn't do that herself, she walked up to them with a smile. Today wouldn't be more messed up like it was now. "Ah, Rasheed, sorry I overheard your conversation with your Mom."

Before Yusrah continued with what she was saying, she watched as he prostrated before her as though he were greeting a Yoruba elder and then she heard the rain of thanks he was saying. She chuckled and waved for him to get up. "You really don't have to thank me. Your mother has been taking care of mine for years and she is a good person." She smiled at him, "Now, about your school."

He flushed and shook his head, "Please, you shouldn't bother with that. We've had it all sorted out with Iyami."

"He's going to drop out and they're starting their exams on Monday. He says he'll drop out but each night, I saw him reading his books incase he finds a way out. We couldn't pay for his registration last semester, only paid half and now they won't allow him to sit for the exams until he completes the payment."

They all turned to Aisha that was speaking with so much pain coated in her tone. She looked so sad and so young to be bothered too much with this. Yusrah smiled and went to sit beside her, she was tired too. "So, Aisha, how much is the money now?" She really hope it wasn't beyond what she had. She really wanted to help them, but if it was beyond what she currently had, Yusrah didn't know what she would do.

"It's one hundred thousand. But he has worked and gotten..." Aisha stilled for a moment, trying to remember how much Rasheed had saved so far and when she couldn't, she looked up at their bewildered faces and smiled, "I'm sure she would help you, just like she has helped Iya Agba and now she wouldn't die. How much have you saved, Rasheed?"

Yusrah shook her head, "He doesn't even have to use his saved money for this. I'd pay for the tuition." She made a quick calculation in her head, she didn't know how she was going to live after this, but she would. She didn't know how her life would turn out now, but she was going to keep living, to keep pushing until she got the life she knew she deserved.

"Take this, take out the one hundred thousand and first thing tomorrow morning, pay for your tuition and focus more on your studies, okay? And then use thirty thousand and buy foodstuffs, Iya..." She turned to Aisha with the beginning of a smile on her lips.

Aisha chuckled softly, "Iya Agba."

"Yeah, Iya Agba needs to eat something good and nutritious to help her heal. That will do. And we can use the remaining twenty thousand for a few things at the hospital." It was just now that she remembered her jewelries, she would go back home and sell them all off. She can raise something from that to get herself a decent home and think of what to do next.

Kulthum only hugged her and cried, but not a single word came out of her lips. She had always thought of Yusrah as someone so self centered. Or maybe, she still was, but she had never imagined that in her life, someone would be willing to help her to this extent. To go out of his way for her family like this. What had she done? Yusrah smiled and returned the hug, oh, how badly she wanted a hug herself.

"Why did you take this load on your head alone, Kulthum. You could've told Abla, I'm sure she'd have helped."

She wiped at her tears and nodded her head. "She did, she was the one that actually paid for her to first be brought here. But I didn't want to burden her, so I told you she got better and was later discharged."

"Abla would've been so furious to hear this. Maybe that's why god sent me to your house, to finish what my beautiful mother has started."

Despite the tears in her eyes, Kulthum chuckled. "I love how you call her beautiful. And she was, more beautiful in the inside than she was on the outside, and to say she looked so gorgeous that it was almost blinding is astounding."

Yusrah smiled sadly, "that's because she's so beautiful that I couldn't help but say it at any given chance I get."

•

Hammad felt as life began to come back into his consciousness and the moment that happened, he felt the throbbing headache trying to split his head into two. He groaned softly and tried to think of what had happened but couldn't. He got into an accident, he knew. A very fatal one that was supposed to take his life, that was certain.

Or had it been successful? Was his life taken? Where was he? Because he couldn't remember being rescued. Just that his head had banged so hard and then things happened that he couldn't remember, just that there was pain, there was blood and then his life that flashed through his eyes before everything went black. And then there was Abbi, whom he thought would die as well if he had died, too, himself.

It pained so much, he tried to lift his hand to his head but it couldn't move freely. It didn't feel like his hand and he was damned tired. He just wanted to sleep, but at the same time, he wanted to go and meet his Abbi, the old man certainly didn't know that he had had an accident. And he would be worried sick about his absence. No matter how much time had passed.

He could remember driving back home to get a good nap and then he promised Abbi that he would be back and sleep there with him, but look at what had happened. He turned around and saw that he was in a hospital room. It looked like a VIP room, no, it certainly was. By his right side, there was a file and it looked like his.

He thought seeing things will help with his hazy vision and maybe he'd get an idea about what had happened to him. And as he read about how serious his accident was and how he had been asleep for two whole days, his heart began to thump loudly. He read his ECG chart and notice that for good two minutes, his heart had stopped moving and had a defibrillator brought it back. He didn't even know how he was understanding these things, but he was.

And something caught his eyes. He had had a serious and urgent surgery in his head, due to how badly his head was injured, around the right fusiform gyrus, in his brain. What the hell was that and what the deuce did it mean? It was written that he had an urgent and a very serious surgery, which was in fact, risky that they had to ask for his relative. But who came? Abbi was in the hospital and may certainly not be reached.

Fatima would rather that he died and she would come to get his body out of the hospital for them and she would dice him into tiny pieces and feed him to her dogs. Maybe his PA? Or anyone from the company whom he had his number? Because he had seen his phone beside the file and he was certain it had been checked for identity purposes.

He turned to the consignment page and his eyes skimmed through the pages. He saw the signature first, but his bother was who the person was and so he eyed the relationship bar. But what? His wife? He wanted to laugh, but the searing headache that threatened to end his life was what stopped him from doing that and he rushed to the name, Yusrah A. Bawa. What in the deuce!

It couldn't be the Yusrah he was thinking of, could it? There was no way she would be in the hospital at that time. And if she were the one that was sick, she wouldn't have been able to roam the ER hall to see him. Her mother seemed well and he didn't know what else.

He could only think of one thing, Yusrah was the one that hired that truck he saw, which deliberately bumped into him, not once, but thrice until the driver made sure that he had passed out, or maybe died. He palmed his face exasperatedly and thought so hard to what he had done to her of recent that could give her such a high drive to hurt him. But he could think of none.

But Abbi had told him to be careful with spiteful women, they were full of venom that they could kill you at any given chance. And now, she had proved Abbi right. He saw her phone number written on the paper and immediately hit it into his cracked phone screen and placed the file back. He wanted to go home even though he knew that he wasn't well enough.

So, he decided to at least call Abbi and inform the poor man so he wouldn't be badly worried that it may even affect his health. "Abbi," he slurred and heard the way Abbi had a sigh escaped from his life.

"I heard you had an accident, Hammad. I felt terrible!" He heard the way Abbi's voice was shaking and thought, who would ever love him in this life apart from his father?

Hammed tried to chuckle but it came out as a croaked groan that had probably worried Abbi even more. "Are you in pain? I asked them to transfer you back to this hospital the moment you wake. Abdu will take a much better care of you."

He smiled before he slightly nodded his head as though his father will see him. "I thought he has made it clear to you that he hates it when you call him Abdu? Add some respect to his name, Abbi, he didn't go through all that medical school's tribulations to be called just mere Abdu by his best friend. The least you could do is call him Dr Abdul."

Abbi smiled and Hammad didn't miss the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. This alone was proof to him that Hammad was at least, better and not in so much pain. "What about me? He calls me Idi, not even Idris to make it look classy. And I grew such a multi billion dollar company, all by myself. He could call me sir, or Mr President or even Alhaji Idris. But no, it's always Idi!"

The laughter that rustled out of his lips after he heard the disgust of Abbi at the way people referred to him since he was a child. He loved it when Abbi whined about that name and to spite him, Hammad made sure that wherever he went and made sure his name would be mentioned frequently, he would use Idi that it turned out his name everywhere had been turned to Hammad Idi Labo.

"And here too, my name is Hammad Idi Labo, what a coincidence." They chatted a bit, laughed even though it was painful to both of them and they wished they were together. He knew Abbi had lots of questions to ask him and to some, he may not even have the answer yet. And he wouldn't tell him that he suspected, no, he knew that it was Yusrah that sent for him to be killed.

The doctor walked in almost ten minutes after they had finished talking with Abbi and when Hammad opened his eyes to speak with him, he was shot with the biggest shock of his life. He could see, perfectly. Beneath the doctor's white robe, there was a navy blue shirt that seemed to hug his figure and a black trouser. He seemed to have a stethoscope on his neck and he was walking towards him. But why was it that he couldn't see his face?

He shook his face and closed his eyes, rubbing his palms on both eyes and when he opened them again, it was still the same. He could see the doctor's head and body, just not the face. The circle that encompasses the brows, the eyes, nose and mouth. Everything above and beyond that, he could see.

He shook his head again and nearly screamed when the doctor spoke, he heard him, but it was blurry whenever he stared to look at the mouth that just spoke to him. Everything on his damned face was blurry!

"What's happening to me, Doctor?" He asked, his voice coming out in hiccups. He was terrified, so damn terrified that he wished he could sleep and wake up and everything will be back to normal.

"Does it pain you somewhere, sir?" He asked and Hammad shook his head and closed his eyes again. And when he opened them, stared right at the face that seemed to have vanished, still blurry as though you were staring at a painted portrait and then the artist decided he couldn't disclose the face of the art and then you were just staring at a human without the circle of his face. Or maybe it got deleted or something.

"I can see you, but I can't see your face." Saying it out loud was more terrifying than actually feeling it.

"What am I doing now?" He waved his hands on his face and Hammad hissed softly.

"You're waving your five fingers at me, of course. You're also wearing a ring on your left finger, a wedding ring." He palmed his face and when he opened it, he screamed, "I told you I can see everything perfectly, I can even call out everything that's in this room. I just couldn't see your freaking face!" He was finally letting the rage out. What was happening to his life?!

"I understand what you're saying, sir. I'll right away refer you to an ophthalmologist to have you checked properly. A nurse will come in to help you to his office." He walked out of the room and Hammad just stared at his retreating back. He wondered what this was or what it meant.

He took his phone and immediately went to his camera and turned the camera to selfie mode. He could see his face that the camera was showing, but just like the doctor's face had looked to him, he couldn't see his face either. It was blurry too, he wanted to die.

He was enraged and without a second thought, just when the nurse walked into the room with a wheelchair, he groaned. "Don't freaking tell me that I can't also move my legs!"

She seemed frightened for a moment, "I'm sorry sir, I thought you'd need some help walking around. You're still not strong enough." Like the doctor and himself, her face too, was blurry to his eyes.

"Can I have five minutes to make an urgent call?" His tone was cold and dicey and she walked out immediately, leaving the wheelchair behind.

He hit the numbers in a rush, and after a quick scan to confirm that he had used the right number, he hit the dial button. He'd never forgive her if something had happened to his eyes. It was one thing to want to kill him and a completely different and cruel thing to make him live without being able to see faces for the rest of his life.

It wasn't until after the third ring that she had picked, and he heard her laughing at the other end before she fixed her attention back at the phone. "Merhaba," she spoke in another language before she smiled, "I'm sorry, hello, even though it means the same thing, just in Turkish. Who's on the line, please?"