It was quiet. Her head. Her heart. The house. Everything was quiet. Until it wasn't.

Slowly, her eyes opens as consciousness of herself and her situation creeps in with each second she spends awake but as soon as they fully open, the sun blinds her and she blinks at its unexpectedness.

Everything felt too sharp. Too bright. No doubt from the opened curtains which had let the sun stretch its limbs over the room in a dazzling splendor. Her lips flickers with a ghost of a smile as she stretches fully awake filled with gratitude for the grace of the day.

Nothing has changed. Her parents are still dead. She's still penniless. But she has a roof over a head, a warm bed and food, and they were more than enough. She never thought she would find peace this quickly. It is quite amazing how a morning after a mental breakdown could feel as light as a feather. It were as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders; a twenty year old weight.

Lightly, she shifts to the edge of the bed and let her feet on the ground. It was lush and warm. For a minute, she let herself enjoy waking with no worries knowing her sorrows weren't far off before she'd gathered herself and went to the bathroom where she washed her face, brushed and performed ablution for the subh prayers she had missed.

She found a leather bag with a note next to the bed. It wasn't there when she woke this morning. Someone must have dropped it off when she was in the bathroom. She approached it carefully, picking up the note which has her name on it.

AISHA.

I got them for you. Let's go shopping as soon as you are ready.

J.

Not thinking much about the gesture, she emptied the bag. A marigold abaya. Toiletries. Perfume. Body Spray. Body cream. Powder. They are from the Oriflame brand.

Leaving them on the bed, she pulled out the prayer mat on the bedside drawer, donned on her hijab and began her morning namaz. She had much to be grateful for. She had much to pray for. And that was how she spends the next hour praying hard like she has never done in her twenty years of existence. When she finished, Junaid was sitting on the bed waiting for her.

"As-salam alaikum," Peace be unto you. She finds herself saying softly overcome with shyness. She was uncertain about the current state of their relationship after the fact that he'd witness her breakdown last night.

"Wa alayka salaam," Peace be unto you too.

Silence.

More silence.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she held his gaze.

"Do you—

"Is there—

They began at the same time and just like that, the ice broke.

"You can go first," he nods his consent, smiling.

"Is there something you want?" She asks evading his eyes, twiddling with the edge of her hijab suddenly feeling conscious of its oldness. She wonders what was it with his eyes on her that makes her feel conscious of every inch of herself.

"Not really," he sighs rather loudly forcing back her attention on him. He was still looking at her. She looks away. "Bilaal is awake and so is grandpa. Will you like to meet them or have breakfast first?"

The reclusive relative and the grandfather with Alzheimer. There was a part of her that had thought they weren't real.

"What do you think?"

"Bilaal might disappear." And at her questioning look, he explains, "He is unpredictable and sometimes goes off the radar for days, months even, you see,"

"Oh!"

"I will like for you to meet. Not that you need to mind his presence. You don't." He rambles, "Knowing him, he would go out of his way to make sure you don't know he is here the rare times he's home. I just need for him to know you're here. He gets cranky when he isn't informed about a new face in the house. Not that you have to mind him," he repeats quite flustered, "Your duty is simply to keep grandpa company. We have other house staffs responsible for cooking and cleaning. Grandpa has his caregiver and nurse too."

She nods in amusement. It was cute watching him rambling. She wasn't sure why he was nervous.

"Do you have any question?" He asks after a beat. The silence which had settle between them wasn't biting but it felt somewhat awkward nonetheless. She could understand why he wanted to fill it.

She thought about it for a minute. Considered saying no. But went ahead with the question anyway realizing she really needed to know."Do you live here too?"

"Why?" He smirks in arrogance as if he'd caught on something he shouldn't. It made her almost regret asking. Almost.

She shrugs in what she hopes is nonchalance, "No reason,"

"Do you want me to?"

"Of course NOT!" She screams. What is he saying? But as her eyes falls on him and she saw the light which flee his eyes at her adamant refusal, she felt somewhat bad. He looked smaller.

He sighs rather loudly as if to make certain that he was not in tandem with her thoughts."Then, no, I don't."

Her relief was beyond measures though even if a part of her felt a bit heavy and apparently, too great to mask. Junaid saw right through her.

"Gosh! You really know how to wound a person!"

She smiles in apology yet not really feeling sorry. She was glad he won't stay here. She doesn't think she could survive the cut of his gaze on a daily basis.

He looks at her. It was obvious he wants to say something. His lips moves as if to say something. But he doesn't. Instead, he stands and without a word, walks to the door before he turned to her once again with his hand on the doorknob and the other in the pocket of his trouser.

"Aren't you coming?"

She scrambled to her feet and followed him, matching his stride.

The house is quite big and beautifully decorated with all the latest modern gadgets and furniture. There are four bedrooms, two living rooms. two kitchens, a gym and an office turned studio. Each living room is surrounded with two bedrooms and a kitchen and separated by a long corridor with the gym at one end and the library at the other. They are called North and South wing. Grandpa occupies the North wing with his live-in caregiver. She is to share the south wing with Bilaal whose room was opposite hers.

"Bilaal doesn't like it when people enter the studio. So, please, it is out of bounds." She nods. She has no intention of stepping on anyone's toes while she is here. "The rest of the house, however, is at your disposal."

She smiles in appreciation. It was more than she had expected. Life is truly a mystery.

He had tried Bilaal's door as soon as they left her room but it had been locked. Aisha made a mental note of the proximity to her room and wondered how she could avoid him if he lives so close by. And when they made it to his grandpa's room, she had been in awe of the transformation that had taken place and couldn't stop staring at this Junaid who laughs freely and jokes easily. It was like meeting an entirely different person.

But meeting the ancient one was by far the highlight of her morning.

Grandpa, Amadu Jafaru Joda, was a soldier. A retired Airforce pilot. Tall, gallant, though frail with age, with intelligent, kind raven eyes which would seem had evaded the cruelty of time.

At 76, the man has a lot more drive than she's seen in anyone.

"The Nigerian Civil war. First Liberian war. Second Liberian war. Ivorian civil war." He had regaled her with stories about his military life with the kind of sadness which couldn't be masked. "My last war was the Sierra Leone Rebel war which lasted from 1991-2002."

She'd been curious. "Why do you reminisce on such past memories which brings you nothing but sadness? Don't you regret becoming a Soldier?"

"I have lots of regrets, Mamana," he calls her mamana, my mother, because she has the same name as his late mother. "—but being a soldier was never one."

It had been quite refreshing those minutes of lucidity that she would come to learn were as rare as as they were precious. Most days, he would just stare at nothing with those ancient raven eyes of his empty. She would have wanted more time with him but there's routine to his care and her mere presence was disruption enough.

Junaid left immediately the first encounter with his grandpa ended which sadly wasn't even up to thirty minutes after promising he would be back later in the evening;

"I will be back by 4pm so we can go shop for clothes and other necessities." He had reminded her and at her nod of agreement, he'd left to God knows where in a hurry and she made her way to her room. His phone had been ringing endlessly in the hour they spent together. She doesn't understand why he stayed for breakfast when it was obvious he was in haste.

She couldn't understand why he needed her presence to buy her clothes either but he had insisted until she had eventually agreed. She didn't want to seem stubborn or worse, ungrateful.

However, her hand was on the doorknob when the door opposite hers opened and curious, she found herself turning to finally put a face to the supposedly reclusive relative only for her heart to skip a bit as soon as their eyes meet.

"YOU?"