Fated by Qadr(Destiny)

Lines Drawn

CHAPTER TWO

Kalila

By the time I killed the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition, my head was pounding. I sat still for a minute, staring at the house. The lights were on in the sitting room and the front porch, casting a warm glow over the compound. Everything looked normal and calm… but I wasn’t fooled.

I was already bracing myself before I walked in.

Now, standing at our front door, I adjusted my scarf and exhaled slowly. “Bismillah”.

The door was already unlocked. Typical of Dad, who believed Magodo was safe enough not to bother with locks unless it was bedtime. I stepped inside, shutting it softly behind me. The living room was lit as bright as day, the air felt dense as if the walls were holding their breath, and the AC was humming softly in the corner.

I heard Dad first. His voice was steady, polite—but serious. “…what you’re saying is, it’s not just the EFCC. There’s a criminal suit pending?”

“And a petition to freeze his assets.” The second voice was deeper, more clipped. Calm, but with an edge I didn’t like. “We’re preparing for that.”

I stepped forward, my flats silent on the marble tiles. They were both seated, Dad on the sofa, and across from him, a man in a neatly pressed kaftan, neat beard, a wristwatch that probably cost more than I make in three months. His expression was blank, cold almost, he sat with the same stillness, his face half-shadowed by the ceiling light.

I knew him instantly.

Kamal…!

He didn’t spare me a glance.

I cleared my throat as I approached. “Salaam alaikum.”

Dad looked up first. “Kalila. You’re here.” His relief was obvious. Maybe he thought I’d flake.

Kamal finally looked at me then, and I felt the weight of it. Assessing, calculating. Like he was filing me away under “family member most likely to cause trouble.”

“Wa alaikum salaam,” he said smoothly.

I sank into the armrest of the couch beside Dad. Close enough to feel his tension. He rubbed his knee absently, a sure sign he was stressed.

“So,” I started, folding my arms, “what’s the situation?”

Kamal didn’t hesitate. “Your cousin is under investigation for defrauding multiple clients through his investment scheme. So far, the alleged sum exceeds three hundred million naira.”

The words hung in the air like smoke, heavy, suffocating.

My breath caught.

Three hundred million?

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, shaking my head. “Tamam isn’t a criminal.”

Dad sighed, long and tired. “Kamal… Tamam isn’t a thief.”

Kamal inclined his head slightly. “That’s for the courts to decide. My role is to investigate and present the facts.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Facts,” I echoed. “Like what? That he ran a business? That people invested willingly?”

Kamal’s gaze shifted back to me, unreadable. “Like the fact that payouts stopped months ago. That new investors’ funds were used to pay off earlier ones. That there’s no clear record of where the bulk of the money went.”

I stiffened. “Tamam was planning to refund people.” He just… he needed time.” I wasn't even sure what I was saying, because this was all news to me. I just knew, instinctively, that i had to defend my cousin.

Kamal’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Time isn’t a legal defense, Miss Usman.”

I bristled at the formality. “Kalila,” I snapped. “You can call me Kalila.”

Dad laid a hand on my arm, a silent plea for calm. I forced myself to take a breath.

Kamal didn’t seem fazed. He looked back at Dad. “I understand this is difficult. But this isn’t about feelings. It’s about evidence. We’re compiling a list of his assets. We’ll need a full account of anything he’s transferred to family members or held in trust.”

I frowned. “Are you saying you think he’s hiding money with us?”

“It’s standard procedure,” Kamal replied.

Dad nodded slowly. “We’ll cooperate.”

I stared at him. “Dad…!”

“Kalila,” Dad said quietly, “we have nothing to hide.”

And that was the problem. We didn’t. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t twist things until it looked like we did.

I stood up. “Where’s Tamam now?”

“In holding,” Kamal said. “He’ll be arraigned soon.”

The words sent a jolt of panic through me. I could picture Tamam—pacing anxiously in some cold interrogation room, his confident smirk replaced by fear. He wasn’t built for this.

“I need to see him,” I said.

Kamal’s brows rose slightly. “That won’t help.”

“You don’t get to decide what helps,” I shot back.

For the first time, something flickered across Kamal’s face. Not a surprise, something closer to curiosity.

Dad sighed again. “We’ll figure this out. As a family.”

Kamal stood. “I’ll be in touch, Alhaji. I’ll need those documents by tomorrow.”

Dad rose with him, exchanging polite farewells. I stayed where I was, arms crossed tight against my chest.

As Kamal walked past me, he paused. “Be careful, Kalila,” he said quietly. “Loyalty is admirable. But it won’t change the facts.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust myself to.

And I wasn’t ready to admit I was scared he might be right.

I hesitated for a moment before heading upstairs, I was halfway up when my father’s voice stopped me.

“Kalila,” he called, his tone firm but calm. I turned back to see him standing near the entrance, his phone still in hand. “We’ll be going to check on Tamam tomorrow,” he said.

I gave him a small nod before continuing up. When I reached the top of the stairs, I found my mother sitting on the edge of her bed, phone pressed to her ear. She was talking to Tamam’s mom, her voice soft with reassurance.

“It will be okay, insha’Allah,” she said. “We’ll do everything we can.”

I didn’t need to ask who was on the other end, I already knew it was Tamam's mum.

I didn’t want to interrupt, so I walked close to her, gave her a side hug, and whispered, “I’m heading home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She glanced at me, giving a slight nod before turning her attention back to the call.

As I made my way downstairs, I caught a bit of my father’s conversation. He was speaking to Tamam’s dad now, updating him on his discussion with Kamal. The seriousness in his voice only made the situation feel heavier.

I hugged him quickly. “It’s getting late. I should go.”

He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting me leave. “Drive safe.”

On the drive home, my phone buzzed with messages from Fawzy.

Fawzy: Asalam Alaykum babes

Fawzy: You good? You’ve been quiet today.

I smiled, glancing at the screen before setting it aside. My thoughts drifted to work; tomorrow was going to be overwhelming. Holiday orders were piling up, and clients had been flooding my email with last-minute skin concerns.

I sighed, already feeling the weight of the coming day. But right now, work was the least of my worries.