*Chapter 4*
*Twins 2*
The next day, the twins and their partners prepared to leave for Abuja, now that the wedding celebrations were over. Before heading out, they planned to visit their late grandmother's house. They also decided to stop by Hafsat's family home-the groom's house-to greet Safina, the bride, and Hafsat, who would be staying behind for another week before returning with next week.
When they arrived at the family house, Lukman, Zara, and Zainab stepped out of the car, but Mubarak remained seated.
"Mubarak, come on, let's go in," Zainab coaxed gently, leaning into the car.
He shook his head firmly. "Zainab, we've already talked about this. I don't want to keep going back and forth on the matter."
She sighed, recognizing the finality in his tone. Arguing would be pointless. Without another word, she followed Zara and Lukman into the house.
Inside, they exchanged warm greetings with Safina and her groom. However, Aunty Hafsat's expression darkened upon learning that Mubarak had refused to enter. Years had passed, yet he still carried resentment toward the family, believing they had been heartless and partly responsible for his parents' deaths.
As the group settled in the parlor, chatting, Zainab suddenly felt a wave of nausea. She pressed a hand to her stomach and quietly excused herself.
Zara noticed immediately and followed.
"What's wrong, Zainab?" she asked as they stepped into the hallway.
"I feel a little nauseous," Zainab admitted, her face slightly pale.
Concerned, Zara suggested, "Let's check the kitchen for some ginger powder. That should help."
They made their way to the kitchen and began searching the cabinets. Just as they were looking through the shelves, a deep voice interrupted them.
"What are you two doing in my kitchen?"
Startled, both twins turned toward the doorway.
A tall, imposing man stood there, his sharp gaze fixed on them. He appeared to be in his early thirties, his expression unreadable.
"Oh, we're sorry. We were just looking for ginger powder," Zara said politely.
Jamal folded his arms, leaning slightly against the doorframe. "Are you sure it's just that? Not something else?" he asked, skepticism lacing his tone.
Before they could reply, footsteps approached, and someone familiar entered the kitchen.
It was Kamal.
Tall, handsome, and in his late twenties, Kamal was Hafsat's only brother-the one they had always known. He had been a familiar presence in their lives, often visiting them in Kaduna during their studies back then and later in Abuja.
"Zainab, Zara! You're here!" Kamal's face broke into a broad smile.
The twins brightened at the sight of him.
"Kamal! We were hoping to see you," Zara said warmly.
They exchanged excited greetings, relieved to finally catch up after missing him throughout the wedding festivities.
"Yes, I was writing my final exams-that's why I couldn't make it," Kamal explained, turning to Zainab. Among all of them, he had always been closest to her.
"Please help us with some ginger powder," Zainab requested.
Without hesitation, Kamal stepped forward, retrieved the ginger powder, and handed it to her.
"Now that I've finished my master's, I'll be coming to Abuja soon," he added, his tone carrying a hint of something more. "I have a mission there."
Zainab immediately understood what he meant. She knew exactly who he was talking about-he had always liked one of her friends.
Zara, noticing Zainab's thoughtful silence, handed her the ginger tea. "Here, take this."
Through it all, Jamal's eyes never left them. He remained silent, watching their interaction with an unreadable expression, his gaze lingering on Zainab in particular. Yet, the twins were too engaged in their conversation with Kamal to pay him any attention.
As they prepared to leave the kitchen, the twins walked ahead while Kamal lingered beside his brother, Jamal.
30 minutes later...
Hafsat, Kamal, Safina, Jalil, and little Abdulkareem stood outside, gathered at the house premises to see the twins and their husbands off. Their voices blended in a mix of laughter and parting words.
Abdulkareem, however, was in no mood for goodbyes. The six-year-old clung stubbornly to Lukman, his small face set in a deep pout.
"You didn't take me out like you promised today," he complained, crossing his arms.
"InshaAllah, I'll take you next week when you come back," Mubarak assured him.
"Promise?" Abdulkareem asked, his big eyes full of doubt.
"Yes, promise, inshaAllah," Mubarak said, gently pinching his cheeks.
With final goodbyes exchanged, they prepared to leave. This time, they were traveling on their own, using one of Alamin's cars, which they had picked up the day before.
Just as they were about to get in, Jamal stepped out of the house.
He walked straight toward Mubarak, his steps deliberate.
"So, you actually came," he said, his voice carrying a hint of mockery.
Mubarak's expression remained blank, refusing to react.
"Anyway, safe journey," Jamal added before turning and walking away.
His presence had soured the mood. Mubarak, who had been ready to drive, suddenly tossed the keys to Lukman.
"Drive us, please," he muttered.
Lukman took the driver's seat, with Zara settling beside him in the front passenger seat. Mubarak slid into the back next to Zainab, his mood visibly dampened as they finally drove off.
____
In the afternoon, just an hour into their journey, Zara sat beside Lukman, her head resting against the seat, fingers idly playing with the edge of her veil. The road stretched endlessly ahead, but her mind was elsewhere, a quiet unease settling in her chest.
At the back, Mubarak sat beside Zainab, feeling the same restlessness since they left. He brushed it off, unwilling to dwell on the discomfort creeping over him.
Lukman glanced at Zara, concern flickering across his face. "Zara, are you okay?" He reached over, gently covering her hand with his.
Zainab turned to Mubarak as well, noticing how his mood had yet to lift. She squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. He met her gaze, forcing a small smile before looking away, his expression darkening again.
Zara, however, remained silent, lost in thought. After a moment, Lukman tried again, his voice tinged with worry. "Zara, what's wrong? You seem distant."
Startled from her reverie, she blinked and forced a small smile. "Oh... sorry. I'm okay." She urged him to focus on the road, hoping to hide the unease curling inside her.
Lukman nodded, turning his attention back to driving. Yet, the silence in the car grew heavy, thick with unspoken concerns.
And then-
"Lukman!" Zara gasped, her voice sharp with fear.
Everyone in the car turned, eyes widening in horror.
Bright headlights bore down on them-too close, too fast.
A truck.
Its horn blared.
Lukman yanked the wheel hard.
The car swerved violently.
Metal screamed against metal.
Glass shattered.
The world spun.
And then-darkness.
---
Two survived.
One presumed dead.
One went missing.
___
Don't Panic readers.