She bid farewell during the evening prayer when her phone suddenly rang, confusing Zeenah Ko dua. Hastily, she picked up the phone and in silence, she said, “Uhum uhum, I’ve called your number countless times, but you never…” Her voice trailed off as the young man on the other end interrupted, “I’m sorry, my princess, son of God.” Zeenat turned pale, her eyes wide with shock. She replied, “Oh, I’m sorry, chicken,” and burst into laughter, saying, “Wow wow wow, Zeenah clapped in amusement. Okay, servant girl, I’ll leave you behind our conversation and go now.”


Zeenat rose from the prayer rug, swiftly changing her long dress into a mini skirt and a tight top. She applied perfume to her body, covered herself with a large prayer hijab, and hurriedly left the room. As she stepped outside, she was taken aback to see Ummah and Yazid eating a bowl of rice, which turned out to be a bowl of uncooked corn soup.


Ummah looked up and said, “After I came to your house wearing a hijab due to the scorching heat, you serve me a bowl of your mixed and Miki’s soup?” Zeenat asked if the soup was dry or uncooked. Zeenat smiled and replied, “I visited Ummah earlier today.” Ummah said, “Hmm, I’m sorry I missed our conversation last night, especially after the Maghrib prayer.” Zeenat pretended to cry and said, “Oh, Ummah, sister of God, you consider me a stranger caught between God and Ummah, my class, my beauty, and my youth. I’m only 23 years old, but Ummah is Sakiringa Sanjani, the older women applaud her, as if she were about to cry.”


Ummah mumbled, “All those things you listed, I’m not aware of any of them. You’re only 15 years old with your thin hair and your belly dancing signs. It’s the boy’s charm that has captivated you for three years. On the other hand, Tuwon’s name comes up together.”


Yazid’s voice interrupted Ummah, “Aunty, have you come to visit me?” Zeenat looked at him with a smile and said, “Ummah, I’ve already left your house. Your soul continues to feed Yazid.”


Almost simultaneously, Zeenat and her car reached the end of the line. Zeenat opened the car trunk and got in. Saida, sitting in the front seat, greeted her with a smile, saying, “You’re welcome, the boyfriend of the wealthy Danbaki Mummunah.” Zeenat replied, “Me too, my princess. I hope you’re ready.” Saida said, “Yes, let’s go.”


He started the car and began driving, holding Zeenat’s hand with one hand while driving. His other hand found its way inside her shirt, caressing her breasts. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, he remarked, “You have beautiful breasts. God has blessed you with many gifts, which is why I never tire of doing different things for women.” Zeenat smiled, enjoying the flattery, and said, “Take me somewhere private. Let’s park the car. I see signs of forgiveness.” He chuckled and said, “Absolutely, but it’s not my fault. Your nipples are so pleasant to touch, and they’re softer than my cousin’s flower.”


Eventually, they arrived at a parking lot near a large tree in the GRA next to the Old Vanilla in

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