“I’m fine. And you?”
“I’m good. Why do you sound this way?” Mama asked again, her voice calm, but alert.
I stared ahead, at nothing in particular. “The wedding is next week.”
A beat passed. “What wedding?”
I sighed. “Abubakar and Samira.”
Silence. Then a quiet, “Inna lillahi…”
“He just told me. Apparently, it was decided since the introduction. I’ve been living in this house, Mama, with him laughing on the phone with her, planning things right in front of me, and I had no idea the date was already set.”
“Madina…” her voice was a whisper now. “You… How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know.” I swallowed. “I thought I was okay with it. I suggested it, didn’t I? I was the one who brought it up, who said maybe it was time. But now that it’s real, now that she’s coming… I don’t know anymor
