“How many times am I going to tell you, Eniola? I am not going with you to the youth camp. It is not my kind of scene.” Jade dismissed her friend with a wave of her hand and looked away. Her friend had been pestering her about going to the camp, and she was more interested in the arcade program organized by some of her friends from college.
Zara opened her eyes in horror, jumped off the bed and ran to the toilet. She pulled down the toilet seat and threw up as much as she could. It was the same dream. How could she have the same dream intermittently for the past 1 year? The details were the same. A woman in a burnt orange Hijab- holding on tightly to a young girl of about 6 years while pushing 10-year-old Zara away. They were in an apartment and were standing at the corner of the living room. It was dark and difficult to make out the faces.
