An update cuz, I'm nice like that.

CAIRO, EGYPT.

"WELCOME BACK HOME, Miss Abd Al-Rasheed"

Taslim turned her head to the side to stare at the woman, before offering her a warm smile. "Thank you, Murabiya" She leaned down to kiss the elderly woman's forehead. She then shot her a warning look—one that the old woman understood well making her chuckle slightly. She had asked her times without number to address her with her first name but to no avail. "Is Grandpa around?" She darted her eyes to the large staircase, as if she could see him cascade.

"No" The Nanny shook her head.

"What about Grandma?"

Murabiya sighed, "Ant taerid 'ajdadak; You know your grandparents. They went out together—something about a WHO event taking place here" She then shook her head. "They should be enjoying some peace now since the hospital is in good hands. But I guess even in old age, they are still workaholics"

Taslim chuckled lightly, as the two made their way further into the house. "They've spent their entire life doing this. La yumkinuk altaghyir faqat; you can't just change"

"I guess..." Murabiya stated lowly, before rolling her eyes dramatically. "Just promise me whatever you do, you won't become a workaholic like your grandparents. Aistamtae bihayatik alsaghira; Enjoy your young life. Tamaam?; okay?"

"Hasanan murabiya; okay nanny" Taslim dragged, making the old woman chuckle. They've had that conversation so many times that Taslim knows what words would come out of the woman's mouth and what her answer would be.

"Come, I've prepared food for you" Murabiya held her hand and dragged her to the kitchen.

Taslim gave in knowing there's no point in telling the woman that she isn't hungry. Even though she doesn't say it, there's no denying that she is truly grateful to have the woman in her life.

Growing up in her grand-parents care wasn't bad. In fact, they have been more of parents to her than her real parents. However, as her Murabiya said, they are workaholics. They made as much as they can to spend time with their grand-daughter, but they couldn't be there all the time and that's where the woman came.

After the death of her mother, Taslim saw Murabiya as a mother more than anyone considering the woman was hired about the same time Taslim moved from Nigeria to live with her grandparents. It's obvious her father couldn't take care of her—her brother is a hopeless case too. They have other priorities that raising a four-year-old that lost her mother isn't part of it.

Her grandparents knew they couldn't be there for the girl all the time, so they hired a nanny for her.

Taslim would forever be grateful to her parents, that much is obvious. But her Murabiya matters just as much to her.

Which is why, as she sat on a stool by the counter watching the old woman move around trying to get her something to eat, she couldn't help the smile that adorned her features.

"Here. Eat up" Said the woman, placing the plate in front of the girl.

"Thank you" Taslim muttered softly, before taking a spoon and getting a spoonful. After two, she widened her eyes and gave the old woman an 'okay' sign with her hand. "This is good" She grinned, nodding her head, "It's really good"

"Well of course it's good. I mean, I made it" Murabiya boasted, fluttering her eyes a bit more than necessary which only made the girl laugh softly. "How's Safiyya? Is she doing well?"

Taslim nodded, swallowing the food in her mouth before she spoke. "She's getting better. The treatment is helping"

"Alhamdullilah" The woman nodded, resting a hand on the counter as a smile made its way on her face. "That's good news then. I'm glad at least one of them yatahsana; is getting better. I can't imagine how Aslam must be feeling with both walid marid mithl hadha; parent sick like this" She tsked, releasing aloud sigh as she shook her head. "'Asheur sayiyatan bial nisbat lah; I feel bad for him"

Taslim who had bought another spoonful to her lips paused, lips tugging into a frown as a crease form in between her brows. "Ana aydan; me too" She muttered, placing the spoon back on the plate, her eyes drifting from the woman to stare at nothing in particular. "Innah yatasaraf biqua; he's acting strong. But it's clear he is breaking down inside" She stated lowly, opting to play with the spoon mindlessly.

Murabiya noticed that, and as such offered her a small smile. "Ant taerif Aslam; you know Aslam. He really is a strong one. He can handle himself" She stated softly.

Taslim shrugged, "Doesn't stop me from worrying about him though" Her voice came out low, but it wasn't laced with anger, only worry. "Bisarahat Murabiya; honestly nanny, I'm even more worried now, he's shutting me out"

"He's going through a lot. It's understandable" Murabiya comforted, "I have no doubt he knows how much you care about him though. He'll come through"

"Hopefully" Taslim muttered, picking up her spoon again as she turned around to look at the woman. Offering her a small smile that looks forced, she forced herself to down the rest of the food left, even though she had no appetite for it.

When she was done, she cleared the dishes before she excused herself to head upstairs. She moved subconsciously, considering her mind couldn't stop swirling with worry over the man that seem to plague her mind all the time.

As if the world decided to pull tricks on her, the minute she stepped into her room, her eyes fell on a framed picture resting on her beside cabinet. She then softly closed the door behind her, eyes never wavering from the picture before her feet took her there.

With shoulders slumped slightly, she extended her hand out to pick it up. Her lips parted as she released a small breath which led to a small smile overtaking her features—making her beauty pop out without much of an effort.

Four eyes stared back at hers, accompanied by a grin so wide one could tell the two barely had much problems to deal with back then. But that's the thing. They did have problems—ones that were too big for their young age and yet, they still held up smiles pretending as if it's okay.

And for that moment it really was, because they had each other. It's always been like that.

However, staring at that picture only brought thoughts into her head. It brought assumptions that she didn't want to dwell on knowing it wouldn't get her anywhere. And as such, she brought the picture down back to its original position. Turning around, she made her way over to the en-suite, wanting to take a shower to wash away the day's activities. After spending the entire day at the hospital, the last thing she wants is to go to sleep with all the bacteria she picked up there on her.

Before she could make it in though, her laptop which was situated on a table in the corner of her room pinged, followed by a soft ring that she could recognize anywhere. She instantly felt her heart sank as she reached there and saw who the caller is.

A part of her thought of ditching the call, wanting to ignore it for as long as she could. However, she knew it's pointless. If anything, it would only earn her more problems that she didn't have the strength to deal with.

So, with so much dread filling her up, she pulled her swivel chair back and settled on it before tapping the answer call of the Skype call.

All it took was a couple of seconds before his face filled the screen, his familiar stern expression making her heart beat louder against her ribcage. He looked the same as the last time she saw him, which was about two months ago. His eyes were slightly narrowed, lips slanted into a deep frown, and a slight crease formed in between his brows—as always.

"Assalmu alaika. Masa' alkhayr ya abi; good evening dad"

"Wa alaikissalam" He answered, his voice so low she barely caught the answer. "Aetaqid anti bikhayrin; I suppose you're doing well?"

"Ana bikhayr alhamdullilah"

He hummed, "Qul li Ya Taslim; tell me, Taslim. Are you sick?" He asked, his voice holding no malice whatsoever. But even with his lack of emotions on display, Taslim still felt her heart sink in her stomach, already knowing where the conversation is heading.

"La 'abi; No, dad"

"Hal taemali?; are you working?"

She took in a deep breath, one that did not go unnoticed. "La 'abi"

"Idhan, hal 'ant ealaa firash almawta?; Then, are you on your deathbed?" He asked again, this time his tone holding a certain edge had had her digging her nail in her hand.

She shook her head yet again. "La, 'abi"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE THEN?" He yelled, his booming voice bouncing off the walls of her spacious bedroom. The veins in his forehead popped, his breathing slightly ragged. "Did I raise you to be a murabiya to your uncle's wife, huh?" He yelled again, though this time his voice was not as loud as earlier.

Taslim hung her head low, blowing out shaky breaths.

"ANSWER ME!"

She couldn't bring herself to answer, and as such, opted for shaking her head negatively instead.

"I allowed you to study the course you wanted. I took you to the best university out there and made sure to give you everything so you could come out as the best. And now what? You're throwing it all away to babysit a woman that is more than capable of taking care of herself"

She flickered her eyes shut.

"Kullu shayin min ajl madha?; All for what? For the foolish feelings you have over that fatta ghabi; stupid boy?" He went on to continue scolding her, his voice becoming higher with each word he utters. He then pointed a finger at her. "While you were there playing housewife, do you know what that boy has been doing?"

Of course she knew. But it wasn't what her father is assuming. Would she tell him that though? It would be pointless to do so to be honest. So, she chose to keep mum.

"I would presume you know, but I doubt your brain comprehends anything when he is involved. So, for your information, your cousin is here, trying to take over the hospital that your brother and I have worked for all our lives. The hospital that we helped grow with everything we have"

Taslim wanted to remind him that her brother and him didn't do much for the hospital. It was her grandparents hard work that the hospital flourished—that along with the other's help. The point is, they started it. They worked for it their whole life—they still are which is why her grandfather is still the Chairman of the board, and her grandmother, Chairwoman of the foundation supporting the hospital.

Her father is still the Director, and her brother, the Deputy Director—titles they earned through a whole life worth of work.

Given, her grandparents, her father, and her brother aren't alike in so many ways than one, there's no denying that they have dedicated their entire life to a hospital that albeit has flourished, was still built on so many sacrifices.

Taslim wanted nothing to do with it. To her, the hospital held so many bad memories that she didn't want to spend her life like her family, all on it.

It's times like that where her only uncle, and her brother's elder brother, Muhammad—Aslam's father is more like a role model to her. He didn't follow the family's path, and chose to go for something he loved instead. Albeit, his son turned out to be the only one amongst the grandchildren that took medicine as course, and pursed a career in it.

That being the reason why her father and brother felt threatened by him. Her father is a doctor too--her brother though is not. He dropped out after realizing he couldn't make it. But he still got what he want afterwards, he still got a position in the family business.

Aslam being a doctor though, and as they see it, AbdulRasheed's favorite 'grandchild' meant he could still take over everything without having to work for it. After all, the hospital belongs solely to whoever the man wants.

He could choose to give all his shares to the young man, and no one do a thing about it.

"Ya Aslam doesn't want to take the hospital from you" She spoke up, her voice still soft so as to not sound disrespectful.

"What?"

She looked up, her eyes meeting her father's furious ones. "He doesn't want anything to do with it, Abi. If he wanted, he could've worked there min albidaya; from the beginning. Lakinah lam yafeal; but he didn't"

"Anti ma zilt tudafie' anhu?; you're still defending him?" He scoffed in disbelief. The glare he threw at her afterwards had her squirming in her chair. "You know what, Taslim? La 'ahtamu; I don't care" He watched as she looked away from him. They both know that despite what he said, he still cared that she has feelings for the young man he feels threatened by.

However, that feelings she has, which he has tried times without number to get rid of but still remains unwavering, is what he'll use against them both.

"—Do you have any idea what's going on here with the hospital?"

She looked up, surprise by the change of topic so seamlessly. Nonetheless, she shook her head as her brows furrowed.

"Fi sabillilah, Taslim. Make use of that business degree you have" He never miss a chance to show her his distaste for what she chose to major in. Nevertheless, he kept that aside and chose to explain. "Our top rival, North Medical Center just lost their heiress"

If possible, her frown deepened. She isn't well acquainted with their business rivals in Nigeria, but she is well aware of NMC. For as long as she'd done, their hospital, Horizon General Hospital, and North Medical Center have been rivals. However, NMC had taken the lead leaving them in second place.

There's one thing the two hospitals have in common though—and that is it's both family oriented. Just like their hospital, NMC is run by the Yusuf Bawa family.

Her father said they lost their heiress. For as far as knows, the family has two heirs.

Kamilah Yusuf Bawa and Fatima Yusuf Bawa.

Which of them could it be?

"Kamilah, or Fatima?" She didn't know any of the two personally, but she still feels bad for the family.

"Kamilah" Her father answered, "There was an accident that she was involved in. Unfortunately for them—and fortunately for us, that means their stability will shake giving us a chance to take the lead once again"

Taslim didn't know what was more disturbing. The fact that her father seems to feel no empathy for what happened to the family, or that he's still thinking of business at a time like that. She didn't comment on it though, knowing it wouldn't take her anywhere. "Fatima is still alive though"

"That girl is useless" Her father waved her off. "Now the matter in hand is that we have a chance to become number one. Which is why, I need you to return to Nigeria as soon as possible"

"What?" Her voice came back barely above a whisper.

"You heard me right" He confirmed. "I want you to return home the earliest you can. This is your chance to prove to your grandfather that you can uphold our family legacy"

"Lakina abi--"

"I'm sure you want to see Aslam too, don't you?" He cut her off. "Yumkinukuma aleamal maean; You two can work together"

"Abi--"

"I'm not giving you a choice here, Taslim" He snapped, "Anti eayid ilaa almanzil. Nihayat almunaqasha; You are coming back home. End of discussion" And with that, he ended the call not leaving a choice to her. 

~*~

If there's any mistake, biko forgive me. I'm ditching it today because I have so little time before the day ends and so much to do.

I have to write another book right now seff. Hopefully, I can.

Speaking of books, who read my Hadewa Series? If not , what are you waiting for?

Still on that chapter tho, who wants to read a book about a badass female soldier and a Prince *winks* Shey you know Jannah and royalty goes the same way, right?

Toh back to this book, you just had a glimpse of Taslim's life. I love the girl honestly. heck, I love Humaira and I haven't even met her yet. 

But wait o, she's going back to Naija too? Wahala. Ni all I have to say is, Taslim bring Mortein o, the mosquitoes here are not nice. Tam, I've said my own.

Guznit ladies and gentlemen.

Love, Jannah Mia.