Chapter 19

The early morning light filtered through the bathroom window as Rana stood before the mirror, her movements precise and hurried. She applied her makeup with a practiced hand, the soft click of cosmetic cases puncturing the silence of the house. Today was Saturday, but for her, there was no rest. Tariq leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "You're up early," he noted, his voice low so as not to wake Layla in the next room. "Is there something big happening at the office?" Rana didn't turn around, her focus remaining on her eyeliner. "The Al-Minara project is at a critical stage. I have to be there to oversee the laboratory results myself. I can't afford any delays." She set the brush down and looked at him through the reflection. "Since I'll be busy, I need you to go down to the gallery. Help my father with the inventory and whatever else he needs. Don't make him ask twice." A small, pajama-clad figure appeared at the bathroom door, rubbing her eyes. Layla looked up at her mother with a sleepy pout. "Mama, can't you stay? Come back earlier today?" Rana softened for a moment, kneeling to tuck a stray hair behind Layla's ear. "I'll try, sweetheart, but I have to work so we can buy those special medicines, remember?" She stood up and turned her gaze back to Tariq, her expression regaining its business-like sternness. "Remember what I said. Go help my father. He's been under a lot of stress lately, and the last thing he needs is more trouble from you." "I understand," Tariq said simply. "I'll be there." Rana pressed a quick kiss to Layla's forehead and grabbed her bag. "I'm leaving. Farah should be here any minute to watch Layla. Tariq, don't leave until she arrives." With a final, sharp nod, she hurried out the front door, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway. Tariq knelt beside his daughter, offering a small smile. "Hey, little bird. Want to play with your blocks until Aunt Farah gets here?" Layla nodded, though her eyes remained fixed on the door where her mother had just vanished. They retreated to the living room, where Tariq began stacking colorful plastic bricks. He had barely started a tower when the front door swung open with a bang. Farah Ghazi walked in, looking as though she were headed to a high-end club rather than a family babysitting shift. She wore a tight, provocative dress and heavy perfume that immediately filled the small apartment. She tossed her designer clutch onto the sofa and checked her reflection in the hallway mirror. "I can only stay for a few hours," Farah announced, not even glancing at Tariq. "I have plans later, so don't think you can just disappear all day and leave me stuck here with this brat." Tariq stood up, ignoring the insult toward his daughter for the sake of keeping the peace. "I'll be back as quickly as I can. I just need to finish up at the gallery for Khalid." "Whatever. Just go," she snapped, pulling out her phone and scrolling through it with a bored expression. Tariq turned to Layla, patting her shoulder. "Be a good girl for your aunt, okay? I'll be back before you know it." Layla looked up at him, her small hand clutching a toy bear. "Okay, Papa." Tariq gave her one last reassuring smile and headed for the door. As soon as the latch clicked shut, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The silence was heavy, broken only by the aggressive tapping of Farah's manicured nails against her phone screen. Layla waited a few minutes, then picked up a small plastic tea saucer. She toddled over to the sofa, holding it out toward Farah. "Auntie, do you want some tea?" Farah didn't even look down. "Go away, Layla. I'm busy." "But I have a cookie too," Layla whispered, her voice babyish and hopeful. "I said get lost!" Farah barked, her eyes flashing with irritation. "Can't you see I'm on my phone? Go play in the corner and stay out of my sight." Startled, Layla backed away. She began to trot toward her toy box, her small feet moving quickly. In her haste and confusion, she clipped the edge of a side table. A half-full glass of water wobbled and then plunged to the floor, shattering into a dozen jagged shards. Farah jumped up, her face contorting with rage as a few drops of water splashed onto her expensive shoes. "You little idiot!" she screamed. She lunged forward, her hand moving in a blurred arc. The slap was loud, the force of it spinning Layla around and sending her sprawling onto the carpet near the broken glass. Layla let out a sharp, terrified cry, her hand rushing to her reddening cheek. "Shut up!" Farah hissed, leaning over her. She raised her foot and delivered a sharp kick to Layla's side. "Stop that noise right now! If you keep crying, I'll take you to the market and sell you to the first person I see. Do you want that? Do you want to never see your mommy again?" Layla's breath hitched. She went deathly pale, her eyes wide with a primal fear. She choked back her sobs, her small body trembling violently as she tried to make herself as small as possible. "That's better," Farah growled. She grabbed Layla by the arm, dragging her across the floor with brutal indifference to the scratches on the girl's knees. She hauled her into the small bedroom and shoved her inside. "Stay in there. If I hear one peep out of you, you'll really regret it." The door slammed shut, and the lock clicked. Inside the dark room, Layla curled into a ball on the floor, weeping silently into her bear, whispering "Mama, Papa" until her strength gave out and she fell into a fitful, exhausted sleep. Back in the living room, Farah lounged on the sofa, her anger vanishing the moment her phone began to vibrate. She answered the video call with a bright, flirtatious smile. "Hey, Adel," she cooed into the camera. Adel Al-Hammadi's face appeared on the screen, the background behind him noisy with the sounds of a karaoke lounge. "Where are you, Farah? Everyone's here. We're starting the next round of drinks." "Ugh, I'm stuck at Rana's place," Farah complained, rolling her eyes. "She made me watch her kid. Honestly, she's such a nuisance. She just broke a glass and started throwing a tantrum. I had to put her in her place." "Just leave," Adel laughed. "She's old enough to sit in a room for an hour. Come down to the lounge. We're heading to the VIP section soon." Farah's eyes lit up. "The VIP section? Fine, give me twenty minutes. I'll be there." She hung up and stood, smoothing out her dress. She walked over to the bedroom door and hammered on the wood with her fist. The sudden noise jolted Layla awake. The girl scrambled to her feet, shivering. "Listen to me, you little brat," Farah shouted through the door. "I'm going out for a bit. If you make a single sound, if you try to open this door or scream, I'm going to come back and make sure you never speak again. Do you hear me?" Layla let out a small, muffled whimper of affirmation. Farah didn't wait for anything more. She grabbed her purse, checked her lipstick one last time, and walked out of the apartment, leaving the locked door and the silent, terrified child behind. ════════════════════════════════════════