Ola stood beside her mother, staring at the two strangers at her father’s funeral. The Khalils.
Ibrahim Khalil, the patriarch of the Khalil family, had aged considerably. She had not seen him in so many years, but she recognized him as soon as he showed up. He carried himself mightily, just like he always did. He was a tall man, about six feet tall. He had gray hair which was silky and neatly combed. His eyes had softness in them, usually, his looks were intimidating to those who did not know him. He was dressed in a black outfit that fit him perfectly. His expensive looking shoes were worth looking at twice. He had on his famous Rolex. He was a simple man with expensive taste. He loved wristwatches and collected them. Beside him was his son, Farouk, he was dressed in black. The last time Ola saw Farouk, they were little kids, about five or six. They would play at each other’s houses while their fathers talked business. Farouk had grown to become a handsome man. Their eyes locked. Ola felt like she would fall if she didn’t stop making eye contact with him. The feud between the Khalil and Abiola family was intense and not a secret. Why were they…
