Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Spring Orphanage, Abuja.
The driver door was pushed open, and then a sneaker covered foot kissed the ground gracefully, followed by the other foot. A person's figure stepping out of the car followed, and was almost blinded by the glaring sun if not for the shades she has on.
Reaching her hand out, Inaya closed the door behind her and shifted her gaze across the place, sweeping through it as if a quick survey to size everything up. In just the few seconds she spent gazing at everything, she had already skimmed through it for any possible threat.
When she spotted nothing in sight, she reached her hand to tuck back the stubborn curl that dared to escape the neat bun she had tied her hair into, her nude lipstick covered lips stretching into a tight line.
Dropping her hand to the side, she tucked the car keys she held inside the pocket of the pants she had on. Once satisfied, she pushed her feet forward and make her way further inside the orphanage; her shoulders squared and chin jutted slightly. The eloquence in her steps was hard to miss, coupled with slight ruggedness.
Still, the look fit her well. It was almost as if it was made for her—a perfect balance between femme fatale and a bit of 'don't even think about messing with me' vibes. There was no between, just the right amount of both.
It was obvious she knew the aura she goes along with, and boy does she own it. Her calculated steps—the exact way she carries herself with utmost confidence and her gait just proves it.
On stepping foot further inside the orphanage, she was instantly met with the sight of children going about with little care in the world. She had to step back almost immediately, because a group of three to four kids came running right past her—and had she not stepped back, they would've crashed right into her and had her falling derriere flat on the floor.
The unexpected action though sucked her right out of that main character moment of hers, and then the train of reality came crashing almost immediately. She was suddenly no longer that character that owns the spotlight, but rather an older woman that the kids consider just another visitor—making her no difference from the rest regardless of her looks and dressing.
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes following the kids till they were out of sight. Without realizing it, her lips curled upwards into a small smile, not annoyed in the slightest bit. How could she be? There's no reason for that.
Her line of sight moved from the disappearing kids, to the others playing around the place—her smile never faltering. It was almost as if she derives joy from seeing the kids all jovial like that, and she does.
"Miss Sa'id?" Too caught up in the moment, she hadn't heard the footsteps approaching her until the voice came.
She blinked, the smile instantly falling as her shoulders perked up yet again, her feet shifting to give a slight space between them—her defensive mood instantly kicking in. Whipping her head around, she was quick to pin her icy gaze on the owner of the voice; internally upset that she allowed her guards down.
