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"What's interesting?" Muhammad asked with a small smile as he placed a hand on her chest, pulling her gently back to him.

"Nothing." She rolled her eyes, resisting the tease in his voice. She wasn't jealous, not in the slightest. In fact, she could hardly care less.

His laughter echoed loudly, rich and hearty, filling the space between them. Using his distraction as a window, she let her thoughts slip out. "I thought you had good taste in women," she muttered under her breath, a slight edge lacing her words.

Muhammad either didn't catch her comment or chose to ignore it. He simply continued laughing, the sound reverberating through the room until Ibrahim walked back in.

Still holding her close, Muhammad's laughter was so infectious that even Jadwa found herself smiling. His smile, bright and captivating, highlighted his dark skin, gleaming in the sunlight. It was a moment etched in her mind—a snapshot of pure joy. A memory she would treasure for years to come, to tell their children and grandchildren, to cherish like a tale locked away with a golden key in the vault of her heart.

"Lovebirds," Ibrahim interrupted, clearing his throat and shooting a mock glare at Muhammad.

Jadwa recoiled shyly at Ibrahim's sudden presence as he shook his head disapprovingly at his friend.

"Please, let her spend some time with her sisters," Ibrahim said, his voice holding a note of sternness. Jadwa nodded eagerly in agreement, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Why are you agreeing with him?" Muhammad asked, his smile fading slightly as he glanced down at her.

"Because she wants to spend time with the family," Ibrahim interjected, shaking his head and calling out for his son, Khalifa.

The young boy appeared in seconds, and with a reluctant sigh, Muhammad released his hold on Jadwa, sending her a look of mock betrayal.

Jadwa mouthed a quick apology before Ibrahim turned his attention to Khalifa. "I'm leaving now," he announced, and Khalifa's face fell, eyes darting towards Muhammad.

"I made plans with Uncle Moh Abba," Khalifa stated, his tone a mix of hope and uncertainty.

"Yeah, Ibrahim, we're heading out to check some games. I'll drop him off later," Muhammad assured, his voice casual.

Jadwa watched carefully, noticing how seamlessly they navigated around each other, like pieces of a well-oiled machine. This was their norm—Muhammad mentioned Khalifa staying with him most of the time whenever Ibrahim was away on his missionary trips.

"Goodbye," Ibrahim said with a brief wave before turning sharply and leaving the house.

After that, Jadwa returned to the women upstairs while Muhammad went out with Khalifa. The day unfolded in a whirlwind of laughter, conversations, and the small surprise Jadwa had been struggling to keep hidden.

Hours drifted by, filled with chatting, laughter, and the bustling activity of the house helps tidying up. Immediately after Isha prayer, Ahmad called to say he was on his way, prompting Ameerah to help Jadwa set up some exquisite bakhoor, filling the house with its aromatic scent.

Fatima, on her third bowl of Fattoush salad, chatted animatedly with Asma, Sarah, and Aya.

"We're leaving with Zarah by the end of the week," Aya announced, and Fatima's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

Jadwa couldn't help but smile at how her friends had woven themselves into the hearts of everyone, from her parents down to her in-laws.

She excused herself and took a burner to Muhammad's room, listening to the endless chattering and noting that Ahmad and Sadiq had arrived.

The girls got ready in minutes, wrapping their veils around their heads and shoulders before heading downstairs.

"Careful," Sadiq cautioned as Fatima descended the stairs without holding the rails. He stretched out a hand, and she placed one of hers on her bump, out of breath by the time she reached his side.

Ameerah, on the other hand, radiated energy. She side-hugged her husband, Ahmad, smiling brightly.

"My not-so-little baby sister," Ahmad teased, engulfing Jadwa in a warm embrace, one arm still loosely draped around Ameerah.

Just then, Muhammad and Khalifa returned from the mosque, and the house soon turned into a lively circle of discussion—about everything and nothing at all. Jadwa saw her chance and whispered in Muhammad's ear, asking for his help with the announcement.

He soon guided everyone outside, and once they were settled, Jadwa cleared her throat dramatically, a sheepish smile on her face.

"So... you guys..." she started, but burst into laughter, drawing groans from her sisters.

"What is it?" Zarah and Aya asked impatiently, voices laced with curiosity.

"Ya, Imran gave me this as a gift," she said, holding up the car keys he'd slipped into her hand.

Ameerah gasped in unison with the other girls, while Zarah stood frozen, unable to blink, before letting out a high-pitched squeal and jumping onto her sister.

"You're lying!" she exclaimed, turning towards the direction of the parked car.

"I'm not!" Jadwa laughed, and a chorus of "MashaAllah" and "Congratulations" erupted from the entire family.

Rahma and Anaya were next, racing towards the car with Zarah to get a closer look. They spent a good amount of time fawning over the car, taking in every detail. They even FaceTimed Hanan and called Ammi to share the joy.

By the time everyone was ready to leave, Muhammad had dragged Jadwa back into his hold, and they bid their goodbyes together. Jadwa's friends and Zarah made Muhammad promise to bring Jadwa home before they departed, and he eventually gave in.

As the last car drove away, Muhammad turned to his wife with a soft sigh.

"Tired?" he asked, and she smiled, leaning into his embrace.

"No, just extremely happy," she whispered. "Thank you," she mouthed the last part, and he returned her smile with a warm one of his own.

"I'm taking Khalifa home. Want to join?" he asked, and she glanced at Khalifa, who nodded eagerly.

"Only if I get to drive," Jadwa teased, her eyes wide and pleading. "It's my car, after all," she added with a playful grin.

Muhammad shook his head in disbelief, a small laugh escaping his lips. "Fine, let's go."

She gave Khalifa a high five before slipping into the driver's seat. As the engine roared to life, Khalifa and Jadwa let out a simultaneous "Woahhhh," their excitement palpable. Muhammad folded his arms, shaking his head at their childish glee, but the smile on his face never wavered throughout the ride.

The journey was quick. Jadwa noted Khalifa would be staying with Ibrahim this weekend, as his father was due to leave for another mission in a few weeks.

"Uncle Moh, Baba," Khalifa pointed at the BMW pulling into the gates of the beautiful duplex.

"He lives alone?" Jadwa asked, turning to Muhammad, who nodded.

"Yes he does, but he's barely ever around," Muhammad explained, and she smiled in understanding.

Ibrahim stepped out of his car, and they all got down together.

"Malam Khalifa," Ibrahim greeted, shaking his son's hand.

"Barka da dare, Abba," Khalifa replied, his voice respectful. Jadwa smiled, noting how much freer Khalifa seemed with Muhammad than his father. Ibrahim was cordial, but she could tell he wasn't one to joke around all the time. Being his best friend's wife gave her some immunity from his reserved demeanor.

Imran leaned on the car beside her, and Ibrahim's gaze softened as he greeted Jadwa. "Jadu, you're welcome. Please, come in."

"Thank you," Jadwa chuckled, noticing Muhammad's arm loop around her neck protectively.

"We're not here for you. We came to drop off our son," Muhammad quipped, and Ibrahim rolled his eyes.

"I should send him to stay with you until I'm back," Ibrahim said thoughtfully, glancing at Jadwa, who nodded enthusiastically while Imran eyed him head to toe.

"That would be amazing! We have so many renderings to work on together," Jadwa added, recalling how Khalifa had passionately talked about architecture once he learned she was an architect.

Muhammad burst out laughing and signaled Khalifa to enter the house, waiting until he did.

"Kar kasa na Zage ka, Ibrahim," Muhammad warned, and Jadwa's jaw dropped at her husband's shameless rejection of Khalifa's extended stay.

Ibrahim laughed heartily and shook his head before pocketing his car keys. "I'll send my little cousins too—they're currently giving Hajiya a hard time."

"Goodnight," Muhammad said quickly, collecting  the keys from Jadwa  as she stifled a yawn.

"Please send my regards to Hajiya and tell Khalifa he's always welcome. I'll send him a message tonight, InshaAllah," Jadwa said, and Ibrahim offered her a small, grateful smile.

"Thank you, Jadu. In Shaa Allah," he replied, and she climbed back into the car, Muhammad holding the door open for her.

Once they were on the road again, Jadwa leaned her head on Muhammad's bicep, their hands intertwined. She felt the subtle thrum of his heartbeat against her cheek, the familiar warmth of his presence wrapping around her like a protective cocoon.

"Give me your phone," he said, his voice low and soothing. Without a word, she handed it to him, curious as to what he was up to. He set a daily reminder on her phone and passed it back with a satisfied look.

"Baby, anything you want?" His voice was soft, threaded with affection.

She hummed, breathing in the scent of his cologne—woody and crisp. "A drive and some slush," she murmured, tilting her head to look up at him, a small smile playing on her lips.

Muhammad's laughter was a deep, comforting sound. "Baby, you know you take too much sugar," he chided gently, his tone playful. One thing she had learned about her husband was that he could be indulgent with her cooking, savoring every dish she prepared, but he was notoriously strict with his diet otherwise.

"You asked me what I wanted," she said, her voice small but teasing.

"And that's all you want? A slush?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his tone.

She nodded eagerly, and he shook his head with a smile. "Ki ji dadin amarcin nan because I won't let you turn me into a fat man," he teased.

Jadwa's eyes widened in mock outrage. "My food will make you fat?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

Muhammad chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "What I mean is," he began, but Jadwa kept her gaze locked on him, feigning suspicion, making him laugh more. "What I mean is that as long as it's your cooking, I can't bring myself to stay on track with my diet."

"What diet?" Jadwa asked, her brow furrowed.

"I have a strict diet I need to stay healthy," he shrugged, his tone light.

"Healthy doesn't have to mean boring," she insisted, crossing her arms.

"Exactly, wifey, exactly," he agreed with a grin, his tone appeasing.

They continued bantering as the car hummed along the quiet streets. The city outside blurred into a tapestry of lights, the night deepening around them. When they finally found a small roadside stall selling slush, Muhammad parked, and Jadwa's face lit up like a child's.

"Two please," she called out to the vendor, ignoring Muhammad's exaggerated sigh beside her.

They shared the icy treat, talking about everything and nothing—about his upcoming work trip to Maiduguri, the new architectural designs she was working on, and random little musings about life.

In those quiet moments, she saw so clearly why they had what they did. Muhammad was an incredibly hardworking man, always pushing himself to provide the best for his family. It was in the way he spoke about his work, his dedication evident in every word. Yet, here he was, making time for her, sharing slushes by the side of a dimly lit street, as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

He told her how he had adjusted his work hours since they got married, wanting to be more present. She listened, feeling a surge of gratitude so strong it almost overwhelmed her.

They made a few more stops, savoring the cool breeze and the simple pleasure of being together. By the time they finally headed home, Jadwa felt the fatigue settle in. Muhammad must have noticed because he reached over, adjusting her seat slightly.

"Go ahead and sleep," he whispered softly.

She mumbled something incoherent, leaning into the plush seat and closing her eyes. Before she knew it, she had drifted off, her breathing even and peaceful. Muhammad glanced at her sleeping form, a tender smile curving his lips.

When they pulled into the driveway, he carefully shifted out of the car, coming around to her side. He opened the door as quietly as possible and unbuckled her seatbelt. She stirred slightly, blinking up at him sleepily.

"Home already?" she murmured, her voice drowsy.

"Yeah, we're home," he whispered, brushing a stray curl away from her face. "Let's get you to bed."

With one arm around her waist and the other supporting her back, he guided her gently up the steps. Jadwa's head rested against his shoulder, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. He opened the front door, and together they made their way to their bedroom.

Once inside, he helped her settle under the soft, cozy blankets. She curled up on her side, and Muhammad leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Goodnight, baby," he murmured.

"Goodnight, my love," she whispered back, eyes fluttering shut.

Muhammad stayed for a moment longer, just watching her, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the serene expression on her face. He turned off the bedside lamp and left the room quietly, closing the door behind him.

In the quiet of the house, he felt a deep sense of contentment. Moments like these, simple and unadorned, were what he cherished the most. And with a final glance at the closed bedroom door, he made his way downstairs, smiling softly to himself, the echo of their laughter lingering in the stillness of the night.

*********

The next two days flew by, and as the morning sun streamed through the window, Jadwa awoke to a peculiar emptiness. Weirdly, she didn't find herself tangled in her husband's warm embrace, a comforting presence that had become a part of her mornings. The house felt unusually quiet, except for the faint murmurs of voices drifting up from downstairs, stirring a sense of unease within her. Perhaps he has visitors, she thought, curiosity piquing her interest.

She rose from the bed, her feet brushing against the cool floor, and made her way straight to the shower. The hot water cascaded over her, washing away the remnants of sleep and enveloping her in a moment of solace. After dressing, her phone chimed with a reminder, prompting her to take her daily pill. Clad in comfortable palazzo pants and a long-sleeve, modest shirt, she wrapped a jersey veil around her head, feeling a sense of calm in her familiar attire.

As she descended the stairs, her husband's voice grew bolder, the words carrying a weight that tugged at her heart.

"I have been lenient lately, and you took that as an opportunity to do whatever you want, thinking I'd be oblivious to it," he stated, his tone devoid of any playfulness. The harshness of his words made Jadwa bite her tongue, a lump forming in her throat as she tried to comprehend the brewing storm.

Peeking into the living room, she saw Anaya and Rahma sitting on the carpet, their heads bowed, while Anaya sniffed softly, betraying the tears she had tried to hold back. On the other side of the room, Ibrahim and Sadiq sat with expressions carved from stone, their eyes piercing through the silence like daggers, assessing the girls with an intensity that sent shivers down Jadwa's spine.

"What I find the most disrespectful is you two little girls thinking you're smart enough for me not to notice," Imran continued, his voice low and dangerous.

"You both are selfish, stupid, inconsiderate, unintelligent, and exceptionally daft to think can live such a life under my watch." Each word dripped with contempt, and Jadwa's skin crawled as she felt the tension enveloping the room. She hesitated, unsure if she should step further into the room or retreat to the safety of the hallway.

"Both of you, drop your keys, phones, laptops, and pack your clothes. Rahma, you are moving back to Abuja, and I'll be enrolling you in the boarding section of the Islamiyya for a year. You'll go and defer this semester with Sadiq today." Imran's declaration sent shockwaves through Jadwa, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"Ya Moh, I am sorry!" Anaya cried, her voice breaking as she sobbed, the sound tearing at Jadwa's heart.

"I will never do this again! I'll spend the whole summer compensating for everything I missed, I promise! Ya Ibrahim, Ya Sadiq, please talk to him!" Anaya's pleas echoed in the room, desperation evident in her quivering voice. Jadwa felt her chest tighten in response. What was happening? Who made him so angry, and what had they done?

"Ya Muhammad," Rahma spoke, her voice cracking like fragile glass. Imran, consumed by his fury, threw the phone in his hand toward her. It hit the floor with a sharp cracking sound, sending a shiver through the air before his gaze landed on Jadwa.

As soon as he met her eyes, he turned to Sadiq and Ibrahim, muttering something under his breath before striding past Jadwa, leaving a storm of emotions in his wake.

Baffled, Jadwa walked into the room and sat beside the two tearful girls, offering them a comforting presence. "What's going on?" she whispered softly.

"Give me the phones," Ibrahim commanded. The girls hesitated for a moment before handing over their devices, Rahma offering her car keys as well.

"Get everything you need and be ready by noon tomorrow," he instructed, rising to his feet and offering Jadwa a polite smile, a stark contrast to the tension that had just filled the room.

Confusion clouded her mind as she returned the smile, glancing at Sadiq, who shrugged in silence, waiting for Ibrahim to leave.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the girls released deep breaths, their tension dissipating slightly. Sadiq motioned for Jadwa to follow him to the door, and she obliged.

"Good morning," he greeted with a chuckle, the sound easing some of her unease.

"Good morning! What's happening?" she asked, her concern palpable.

"They messed up real bad," he said, gesturing toward the closed door with a frown.

"Subhanallah," Jadwa sighed, her heart aching for the girls.

"Rahma was out with friends, partying along with Khayrah here in Abuja in some apartment sponsored by Khayrah's 'male friend,' and Lily foolishly decided not to write her exams just to cover for Rahma so she wouldn't get caught," he explained, his brow furrowed with disappointment. Jadwa's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Ya Salam! Your brother seems very pissed," she said, concern etched on her face.

"He is," Sadiq sighed heavily. "I am too," he added, frustration lacing his tone.

"What is a young girl like her doing, going up and about in this city with little boys who can't even earn a portion of what her handbag costs?" he hissed, and Jadwa began to understand the weight of the situation. She had been away from home for a whole month?!

"He's not listening to their apologies?" she asked, biting her lip as the reality of their situation sank in.

"When they did it, they knew exactly who they were messing with," he said, frustration flaring in his voice.

"It's good for them; let them go to the boarding Islamic school for a year. Maybe they'll learn not to act this foolishly." Jadwa remained silent, absorbing the brothers' frustration like a sponge, feeling the weight of their disappointment pressing heavily on her shoulders.

"But Anaya didn't do all that," Jadwa reasoned, and Sadiq looked away, his expression conflicted.

"I'm more angry at her, to be honest, because if she had any respect for us or truly loved her sister, covering up for her to the extent of missing her own exams wouldn't have even crossed her mind, it's not covering up, it's enabling" Sadiq said, his voice thick with emotion.

"I understand, but—" she began, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind. "I'm sorry on their behalf," she said, unable to process the whirlwind of emotions within her.

"It's fine," he brushed it off, his tone heavy with resignation. "Things like this happen, unfortunately, when there's a bad influence around." Jadwa nodded in agreement, her heart heavy.

"I'll try to get a hang of it after he cools off, or Ibrahim will talk to him," he said, a wry smile creeping onto his face. "I'm also not above your husband's wrath," he chuckled, and despite the gravity of the situation, Jadwa couldn't help but chuckle sadly in return.

"He doesn't listen to anyone, especially now that he's upset. It's best to let him have it his way," he added, and Jadwa nodded, understanding the wisdom in his words.

For the next five minutes, she and Sadiq exchanged thoughts on the issue before he left, and she returned to the girls.

"Tell them to meet me in the car, Jadu," Sadiq instructed, and she nodded, her heart aching for the two girls.

Finding them in the same position, Rahma gently wiped away a tear that rolled down Anaya's cheek. The sight made Jadwa's chest tight. Both girls were utterly wrong, but Anaya especially didn't deserve such harsh punishment.

"Hey, it's okay," she said softly, rubbing their backs in a soothing gesture. "I am so sorry about everything." Anaya managed a weak smile, gratitude shining through her tears. "He will come around; just pray about it," she reassured, her heart swelling with hope as Rahma nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," Rahma choked out, leaning into Jadwa's comforting embrace. "I'll talk to him," she said, and Anaya nodded along, determination flickering in her eyes.

"Sadiq is waiting for you outside," she informed them, and they sprang to their feet, ready to leave. She escorted them to the car, offering soothing words to calm their frayed nerves.

Once they departed, Jadwa greeted the workers around the house before retreating back inside. She made her way to the kitchen, her mind racing with thoughts of the morning's events. It was still early, so she whipped up a quick breakfast of French toast, fluffy omelettes, Mediterranean beef sausages, turkey bacon, and a side of maple syrup.

As she plated the hearty meal, the mint tea boiled to perfection. She arranged everything nicely on a large tray and headed up to Imran's room, the fragrant aroma wafting behind her like a warm embrace.

She placed it on the table in the center of the room, her heart racing as she heard his movements from the closet. Stepping inside, she found him wearing his jallabiya, the soft fabric draping over him like a second skin. She took a few steps forward, standing directly in front of him.

Without a word, she rose on her toes, her fingers gently reaching around his neck to fasten his button, the small gesture filled with intimacy.

"Good morning," she said, and he nodded, a small smile creeping across his lips.

"Good morning, Habibty," he replied, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the lips.

"I made breakfast," she added, turning to make her way back to the heart of the room. He thanked her softly, a warmth in his voice as he settled at the table.

A few minutes later, Imran arrived, taking a seat across from her. He glanced at the hot cup of tea she had poured, then at the plate of food before him.

"This looks so good, Mama," he said, his eyes lighting up as he placed a gentle kiss on her hand. "Thank you." His smile was genuine, and together they dived into the meal, their plates clinking as they shared laughter and bites.

Jadwa sipped her tea, letting Imran finish what was on his plate, her own hunger fading as she savored the moment.

"Baby," she called, and he hummed in response.

"Are you good?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. He shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in his demeanor.

"Kids will be kids," he said, his tone light yet detached. She nodded, acknowledging his words.

"You're doing great for everyone," she reassured him, biting her lip as he listened intently. "The girls are sorry," she added softly. "I'm sure they wouldn't try this again, ever." She hoped to ease the tension, but he remained silent, sipping his tea.

"Albi," she called again, locking her gaze with his.

"Yeah? I'm listening," he replied, his tone steady. It tightened her chest; it wasn't harsh, nor was it tender.

"The girls regret their actions; they're devastated and truly sorry. Please don't take the steps you mentioned earlier. It'll only make things worse." She held her breath, waiting for his reaction as he continued sipping his tea.

"They should be devastated," he said, his voice flat, showing no hint of empathy.

"You shouldn't be so harsh on them," she countered, frustration bubbling beneath her calm facade. He remained stoic, pushing his food around on his plate.

"Harsh?" he raised an eyebrow, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "Do you know what this girl did in just one month? The kind of men she met? The parties she attended? What she did and didn't do?" He leaned closer, the intensity of his gaze making her uneasy. She shook her head, her throat tightening.

"I can't, but..." she began, but he cut her off.

"Then don't be so quick to judge what's harsh and what isn't," he snapped.

"What about Anaya? What did she do to deserve deferring a whole semester?" she pressed, desperation creeping into her voice.

"I get to decide that, Jadwa," he stated firmly. She felt a surge of annoyance at his calmness, at his unwillingness to engage.

"To be so strict and take such heartbreaking, ruthless action against the poor girl? She didn't deserve this!" The clattering of his cutlery on the plate punctuated her words, a sharp sound that hung in the air.

"Ruthless?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his tone.

"Yeah, ruthless," she repeated, the word feeling like a shield.

"Jadwa," he said, her name falling from his lips like a verdict. Her heart sank. "Then do yourself a favor and stay out of this if you don't want to see what my version of ruthless truly looks like." He stood to leave, but she halted him with her words.

"Are you warning me to stay out of your family matters?" She chuckled, a bitter edge in her voice, pain lacing her throat.

"Yes, it's a warning. How you interpret my words is up to you," he replied, his expression unwavering.

"Seriously? Are you even trying to listen to or understand what I'm saying?" she challenged, her voice rising.

"No, and I don't want to," he answered bluntly, and her shoulders slumped at his words, anger simmering within her.

"Then do whatever you want. I don't care. I apologize for sticking my nose into your business," she raised her voice as she shot back, bitterness thick in her tone. He smiled mockingly, as if her frustration amused him.

"I'm not your mate, Jadwa; I'm your husband. Watch your tone when you speak to me." His words were sharp, and they ignited a fire in her.

"Then why didn't you marry your mate?" She asked, a challenge in her voice as he stood to leave.

"Why marry a young girl if you're just going to treat her like a child with no voice?" she pressed, her heart racing as he paused, visibly taken aback.

"You do have a mind of your own, and you have a say in this house and in all family matters as my wife. However, you should know not to try to change my mind or suggest that my decisions are wrong just to save them from the mess they created," he explained calmly, the air thick with tension.

"And there's no room for forgiveness?" she folded her arms, trying to hold her ground. He ran his tongue over his lips, weighing his next words carefully.

"Jadwa, do you call your parents ruthless when they take action against you when you do wrong?" he asked, his question hanging heavily between them.

"Do you?" he pressed again, watching her closely as her face flushed with a mixture of hurt and anger. She swallowed hard, her breath catching.

"We don't have the luxury of parents in this house," he said clearly, moving closer, his presence almost overwhelming. "I've been the only one for them, and I'll continue to be. I don't care if it's ruthless, harsh, or merciless. I am the one Allah will hold accountable for their upbringing/tarbiyya. We will stand before Allah and our parents on the Day of Judgment. Will you be the one to intercede for me?" His voice rose slightly, and she instinctively recoiled.

"Good," he whispered, his gaze piercing. "I don't expect you to understand, nor do I want you to. But this is the second and last time you try this, especially your tone and how you speak to me." His words dripped with disdain and frustration, leaving her reeling as he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Jadwa stood there, anger coursing through her veins. She felt disappointment in him and in herself, but the most draining emotion was the frustration of having provoked him so deeply.

Thoughts? Predictions?