In the last two weeks, things have shifted in small but meaningful ways: first, the lawyer’s calls to the madrasa for private meetings; then, a series of hushed conversations between the elders and my mother.
I overheard about some legal documents appearing, new demands about my father’s property.
Sarah’s family started to distance themselves, whispers spread of tensions I can’t fully understand.
And just yesterday, I found a letter tucked in one of my father’s books—unopened, addressed to me but never delivered.
Now I’m preparing for a meeting tomorrow with the lawyer and the madrasa leaders. I’m trying to hold it together, but deep down, I fear what might come out next.
There’s so much I don’t know, and the silence around me feels heavier than ever.
Something’s about to break wide open, and I’m bracing myself for a truth I’m not sure I want to face.
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