A flash of happiness struck through Humaira's unsettled face. She was happy that Alhaji Musa actually wanted to help her family this time. Suddenly, he closed the suitcase and kept it aside. It was locked with a kind of code.

"If you won't eat the suya, then at least, take a bit of juice before going." He poured her an hollandia orange juice into a very transparent glass cup and handed it to her.

"Hand over the money to me sir. It's just 11:00 p.m, I can still meet the doctor to discuss all about my mom's treatment before time runs out."

"You wouldn't visit a place like this and leave without taking anything, mana. A good child don't reject things from an elder. At least, if you wouldn't spend the night here, then take this juice and give this suya to Zainab for me…" He handed her a pack of suya and she collected it.

The juice on the other hand was cold and mouthwatering as she was very thirsty. Humaira wasn't interested in the drink as she was in a hurry to still meet up with the doctor before midnight.

She took a sip and dropped the cup on a small shelf.

"Just hand me the money already sir," She pleaded.

"No, not until you complete at least, half of the bottle. See it as a way of telling me 'thank you' and I'll be grateful also. Perhaps, why are you rushing? This money is yours already. You'll save your mother anyways." He persuaded with a smile.

Frustrated with all his pestering, She gulped the whole bottle down her throat. Suddenly… She felt very dizzy and passed out.

***

6:00 a.m,

The Next Morning.

The room was dim and chilly. She was lying on the bed, alone. Humaira quickly sat up in fluster, pondering about the thought of what happened last.

'Where am I? What am I doing here? This isn't my room, is it?' The questions flooded through her mind as if she was still dreaming. The coldness of the room gave her chills. Humaira sighed repeatedly, snapping at the thought of it.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slided open. A huge, chubby figure came in, walking towards where she was.

"Astagfirullah! It's Alhaji Musa!!" she mentally cried.

He tied a soft white towel around his waist, sitting close to where she was.

"What did you do to me, sir? Why was I here at the first place!!" She panicked.

Heated tears formed in her eyes, following a drop and pouring out. She felt so confused and used... with the crooked smirk that he wore.

Alhaji Musa turned to her and crawled to her body, humaira still felt weak and a dizzy but she pushed his wet body off hers.

"You came here for money last night didn't you? And you decided to be intimate with me… I mean. I couldn't I say no to a very beautiful virgin like you? No... That was until last night." He laughed out aloud. Wanting to steal another kiss from her neck, she pushed him away.

It was just then she noticed that she was lying naked and Alhaji Musa actually drugged and raped her.

"What have you done?!" Her cry thundered in the room as she threw herself out of the bed. The spot she slept on, on the white soft bed was stained with blood as she stood up. Tears steamed down her face with regret for coming to the hotel in the first place.

"You drugged me, you wicked old man! How dare you drug me? I mistook your wickedness for kindness! You're like family, Alhaji Musa. My late dad's friend."

"Humaira Kenan… Don't make it sound like I killed someone. There's no need to cry over the spilt milk. Yes, I did it." He confessed.
"I drugged you so, what's the big deal? Don't tell me that you never wanted it too. It's every girls dream these days, you know? I should be appreciated, instead of you causing drama the way your sister did yesterday…birds of the same feather!" He hissed under his breath.

Humaira remembered clearly how she became dizzy and how he gently laid her on the bed. She was too weak to even speak at the time, let alone shout. Plundered by all his kisses and touch, Hurairah broke down into an uncontrollable tears. A lick of fear went up her spine as her vision flashed white. Something inside Humaira soured in her head, it tightened her throat as she chocked to her own tears. As her eyes prickled with a storm of emotions.

What happened next was a mystery… How she felt so weak and slept off, not knowing what was happening to her all night.

She had never been so disappointed and humiliated this way, ever before.

"Stop the act," Alhaji Musa muttered as if her cry irritated him.

"I would expose you to your wife and the entire public! I hate you so much for this, Alhaji!" She spat as she pointed at him in anger. Her jaws gnawed to the words.

"I'm loving you even more Humaira but please, don't disgrace yourself. Although, You keep breaking my heart but… Where is the proof? The cup is totally clean and the bottle is empty? Are you going to use that?" He pointed to the bloodstains on the bed. "You're going to be the next crazy girl on the headlines and I'll be with my beloved family watching the news. Remember, you came here willingly to begin with…"

She felt angered by his words and reactions. It's no doubt, Alhaji Musa must have planned this all along.

"How would she live her life now? What would she tell her sister and mother?!" Humaira sat in the darkness, crying out aloud while Alhaji Musa puts on his clothing's.

"Let the past be past now. There is the money." He pointed, adjusting his expensive hula (cap). "And… Don't ever tell anyone about this, else?…" He threatened, then smiled sheepishly.

"I know you would talk, right?…" He joked again, then left the room.

Ring! Ring!! Ring!!!

Ring! Ring!! Ring!!!

The vibration of her old Nokia phone brought her back into reality.

It was Doctor Azeezah, calling.

***
Author's Note:

Word Count: 1,012.

So how was this chapter? Do you think it was a good idea to visit a married man in an hotel to begin with?
Whose fault was it? Zainab's or humaira's or The Alhaji's ...

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Words and Translations

-hula: A thick made cap, worn by mean on their native. Usually found in the Northern part of Nigeria with the Hausa's.

***

Author's Note:

Word Count: 1,114.

*1 U.S Dollar= 360 Naira (Nigerian Currency) so you can do the maths.

* Dialect: A language perceived as standard, specifically, often a spoken variety, in a particular area or community.

So, many questions about... What Humaira and Zainab look like came in from many readers.

Well, they're the cutest and closest sisters you'll ever find. They love each other and are opened to each other. Zainab has a tall future so most people would think Humaira was older than her with only 5 years.

I'll introduce our characters soon enough but I hope we love them already❤...

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Enjoy reading  and please, don't forget to press the tiny orange star ★ at the end of each chapter to notify me you've actually read it… So! What are we waiting for! Continue reading this story of family, adventure, mystery and plot twists, and also leave your comments.