Outside, thick snow continued to fall without pause.
The streets had turned almost completely white, and the freezing wind rattled softly against the apartment windows.
Inside, however, the apartment was warm.
Each of the girls had already settled into her usual place with a laptop open in front of her.
Online lectures were about to begin.
Since the university had temporarily suspended face-to-face classes because of the heavy snowfall, almost everyone was attending from home.
Some students still stayed on campus to focus on their studies, while others remained there because of their part-time jobs.
Ruhi entered the living room while ending a phone call.
She slipped her phone into her pocket before looking toward Zoya.
"Zoya."
Everyone instinctively looked up.
"The Admin Office just called."
Zoya raised her head.
"They called me because I'm listed as your roommate."
"They've asked you to come to the Admin Office."
For the briefest moment...
Zoya forgot to breathe.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her laptop.
A chill passed through her body.
Not because of the snow outside.
But because of the words she had just heard.
Admin Office...
She forced herself to remain calm.
"Oh..."
"What do they want?"
Ruhi shook her head.
"I don't know."
"They just told you to report there."
Silence settled over the room.
Even the sound of the falling snow outside somehow felt louder.
Sophia glanced at the clock on her laptop.
"Our lecture starts in two minutes."
Minji quietly closed the assignment she had been working on.
Then she shut her laptop.
"You all continue your classes."
She stood up.
"I'll go with Zoya."
Sophia looked surprised.
"But today's lecture is important."
"I know."
Minji picked up her coat.
"I won't be long."
She turned toward Zoya.
"Come."
Zoya slowly stood.
She put on her coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and glanced once at the laptop she had just closed.
Something inside her felt strangely heavy.
She couldn't explain why.
She only knew...
that the moment Ruhi had said 'Admin Office'...
an old fear had quietly returned.
A cold gust of wind rushed into the apartment the moment the front door opened.
Snowflakes drifted inside before Minji quickly pulled the door shut behind them.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Only the sound of their footsteps echoed against the snow-covered pavement.
Everything outside looked white.
The roads.
The trees.
Even the university buildings in the distance seemed wrapped in silence beneath the falling snow.
Zoya pulled her scarf a little closer around her neck.
The cold barely reached her.
Her thoughts were louder than the wind.
Minji glanced at her once.
"You've been quiet ever since Ruhi mentioned the Admin Office."
Zoya forced a faint smile.
"I was just thinking about my student ID."
"Hopefully that's all it is."
Minji nodded, though something inside her remained unsettled.
"I hope so too."
The university wasn't completely empty.
Many students still stayed on campus.
Some preferred studying in the library rather than inside their rooms.
Others had part-time jobs at cafés, convenience stores, or university offices and came every day despite the weather.
Small groups crossed the campus carrying umbrellas and steaming cups of coffee.
Some hurried toward the library.
Others disappeared into different academic buildings.
Life hadn't stopped.
It had simply become quieter.
Soon, the Administration Building came into view.
Its glass entrance reflected the endless white snow falling across the campus.
Zoya's steps unconsciously slowed.
Minji noticed immediately.
"You don't have to be nervous," she said gently.
"It could just be paperwork."
"...Maybe."
Zoya answered softly.
But the uneasiness in her chest refused to disappear.
They climbed the short flight of snow-covered steps and stopped beneath the entrance canopy.
For a brief moment...
Zoya simply stood there, staring at the glass doors.
The words echoed in her mind once again.
Admin Office.
Why...
did they feel so familiar?
Not because of an office.
But because of the feeling.
Being called.
Waiting to hear a decision.
Standing silently while someone else chose the direction of her life.
Her breathing slowed.
And without realizing it...
Another winter morning returned to her.
Not in Korea.
But in Pakistan.
A room filled with family.
Eyes fixed on her.
Waiting for only one answer.
"Why don't you want to get married?"
The snow-covered campus slowly faded from her sight.
And the memories she had buried for years quietly came back.
Pakistan — months Earlier...
The room was silent.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that made it difficult to breathe.
Zoya stood near the doorway, her fingers tightly intertwined. Her mother sat in the middle of the room while both of her brothers and her sister watched her in silence.
She already knew why she had been called.
Her mother looked at her.
"Sit."
Zoya quietly obeyed.
For a few moments, no one spoke.
Then her elder brother broke the silence.
"So?"
"Have you changed your mind?"
Zoya slowly looked up.
"I've already told all of you."
"I don't want to get married."
His expression hardened.
"Why?"
"I've already answered that too."
"I want to continue my studies."
"You can."
His voice became firmer.
"Study after marriage."
"Nobody is stopping you."
Zoya gently shook her head.
"It won't be the same."
"I want to study abroad."
Her younger brother let out a frustrated sigh.
"There you go again."
"This foreign education."
"This dream."
He looked at her in disbelief.
"Look around you, Zoya."
"Every girl your age is married."
"People have already started talking."
Zoya remained calm.
"People will always talk."
"If you answer them today..."
"...they'll find something else to talk about tomorrow."
"This isn't about people," her elder brother replied immediately.
"It's about us."
"We want to see you settled."
He paused before saying the words that hurt the most.
"Baba isn't here anymore."
"So stop holding on to excuses."
For a moment...
Zoya simply stared at him.
The pain in her eyes was impossible to hide.
Finally, she spoke.
"I never used Baba as an excuse."
Her voice trembled.
"I wanted to stay with him because..."
"...he was my father."
A tear escaped despite her efforts to stop it.
"If Allah called him back..."
"...that was Allah's decision."
"How could I ever use his death for my own benefit?"
No one spoke.
She continued quietly.
"My dream didn't begin after Baba passed away."
"I saw this dream while he was still alive."
"I even shared it with him."
Her eyes slowly moved toward her mother.
"I asked Baba to speak to all of you."
"I wanted him to tell you..."
"...that your daughter wanted to study abroad."
A faint, broken smile appeared on her lips.
"He promised me he would."
"But Allah didn't give him that chance."
Silence filled the room once again.
Her elder brother closed his eyes for a brief moment before speaking.
"Whatever happened..."
"...has happened."
"We can't keep living in the past."
"The decision has already been made."
"You need to accept it."
"There are still many wedding preparations left."
"Move on."
He stood up.
Within moments, her younger brother and sister followed him.
One by one...
They walked out of the room.
Only her mother remained.
Hope still lingered in Zoya's eyes.
She slowly looked toward her.
"Mom..."
The single word carried every prayer she couldn't say aloud.
Her mother didn't answer.
She simply lowered her gaze.
That silence...
was enough.
It was another way of saying no.
Something inside Zoya shattered.
She quietly stood, turned around, and walked to her room.
The moment the door closed behind her, the strength she had been holding onto disappeared.
She leaned against the door before slowly sliding down onto the floor.
Tears streamed down her face.
She kept shaking her head.
"No..."
"Ya Allah..."
"Please..."
"No..."
She couldn't imagine herself marrying someone she had never chosen.
Even in her dreams...
She slowly raised her trembling hands.
Tears blurred her vision as she whispered,
"Ya Allah...
You know my heart better than I know it myself.
You know that studying abroad has been my dream since Baba was alive. You know how many times I shared that dream with him, and how he promised he would speak for me. But You called him back before he could. I accepted that because Your decision is always better than mine.
Ya Rabb... You also know there is another feeling in my heart now. I never invited it, I never searched for it, and I don't even know when it became a part of me. But You know. You know every secret that even I cannot explain.
If what I am hoping for is not good for me... if it will distance me from You... then remove it from my heart. Fill that place with Your peace and make me sincerely content with whatever You choose for me.
And if the path I am asking for is good for me... if all that stands between me and it is only time... then grant me patience that never weakens and faith that never shakes.
She stopped.
A faint smile appeared through her tears.
She quietly wiped her eyes.
"Ya Allah..."
"Why am I standing before You saying 'if' and 'maybe'?"
"You are Al-Wakeel."
"You are the Best of Planners."
"No... I know You will open a door for me."
"When You decide the time is right, no one in this world will be able to close it."
"And until that day comes... I am ready to wait."
"I only ask one thing..."
"Please don't leave me alone."
"Even if the whole world lets go of my hand... don't let go of it."
"And if my family's decision is truly better for me... if the person they have chosen is the one You have written for me... then remove every resistance from my heart. Fill me with peace until I accept Your decree with happiness instead of tears."
Her voice broke.
She covered her face with both hands.
"Ya Allah..."
"You'll probably say I'm repeating the same thing again and again..."
"...but who else do I have to tell?"
"Who else will listen?"
"My family doesn't hear my heart..."
"But You do."
"You always do."
"So I'm leaving everything with You."
"My dream..."
"My future..."
"And the secret of my heart that no one knows except You."
"Ameen."
The last word escaped her lips almost as a whisper.
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
She remained sitting on the prayer mat...
not asking for anything anymore.
Just breathing.
Slowly...
Her eyes grew heavy.
Still, she leaned against the wall...
with the prayer mat beneath her...
she drifted into sleep.
The traces of tears were still visible on her face.
A gentle knock echoed through the room.
"Zoya..."
Her mother's voice came from outside.
"Breakfast is ready."
Zoya's eyes slowly opened.
For a few moments...
She simply looked at the prayer mat beneath her.
Then she remembered everything that had happened the night before.
She quietly whispered,
"Alhamdulillah..."
Before wiping her face...
and getting up to open the door.
Zoya quietly opened the door.
Her mother was already walking back.
She hadn't waited.
She hadn't looked back.
For a moment, Zoya stood there watching her mother's retreating figure.
Had anything changed?
Or had last night simply exhausted everyone?
She couldn't tell.
After washing her face, she stepped into the dining room.
Everyone was already seated.
The atmosphere was strangely quiet.
The usual conversations were missing.
Even the clinking of spoons against the plates sounded louder than usual.
Zoya silently took her seat.
She lowered her gaze and reached for the cup of tea in front of her.
No one looked at her.
No one spoke to her.
She had expected nothing else.
Perhaps...
this was how the matter would end.
A quiet refusal.
A quiet acceptance.
A quiet surrender.
She wrapped both hands around the warm cup, trying to steady herself.
Just then—
Her mother placed another piece of bread onto Zoya's plate.
It was such a small gesture...
that no one else paid attention to it.
But Zoya did.
She looked up.
Their eyes met for only a second.
Then her mother looked away again.
No smile.
No explanation.
Nothing.
Zoya's heart tightened.
She couldn't understand what that silent gesture meant.
Before she could think further, her elder brother spoke while finishing his tea.
"I have to go to the passport office today."
Everyone continued eating.
Then—
their mother spoke without raising her voice.
"Take Zoya with you."
His hand stopped halfway to the cup.
He slowly looked at her.
"What?"
"I said..."
"Take Zoya."
"And get her passport made today."
The room froze.
Her younger brother stared at their mother.
Her sister looked up in complete disbelief.
Even Zoya forgot to breathe.
For several long seconds...
no one spoke.
Finally, her elder brother broke the silence.
"Passport?"
He frowned.
"For what?"
Her mother's answer was calm.
"For her studies."
Another silence.
This one felt even heavier than the last.
"But..."
"We already decided—"
"I know what we decided."
She interrupted him quietly.
"But after thinking the whole night..."
"I've made my decision too."
She turned toward Zoya for the first time since morning.
"If Allah has placed this plan."
"I don't want to stand between her and His plan."
Zoya's eyes immediately filled with tears.
She wasn't crying because her mother had agreed.
She was crying because...
for the first time in her life...
someone had chosen to understand her before judging her.
She lowered her head.
A silent whisper escaped her lips.
"Alhamdulillah..."
Not because every problem had ended.
But because...
the first door had just opened.
Nobody touched their breakfast.
The silence that had settled over the table moments ago became even heavier.
Her elder brother looked at their mother in disbelief.
"Mom..."
"You can't be serious."
"I am."
Her voice remained calm.
"I've never been more serious."
He let out a slow breath.
"What changed overnight?"
"You were the one insisting on this marriage."
"And now..."
"...you're telling me to get her passport?"
Their mother didn't answer immediately.
She looked down at her cup of tea.
Then quietly said,
"Last night..."
"I remembered something."
No one interrupted her.
"I remembered that every time this girl needed me..."
"...someone else needed me first."
Her eyes slowly lifted toward Zoya.
"I thought she was patient."
"I never realized..."
"...she was sacrificing."
Zoya immediately shook her head.
"Mom, please..."
"I never—"
"I know."
Her mother gently stopped her.
"You never complained."
"That's exactly what hurts."
The room became silent again.
She continued softly,
"She never fought with me."
"She never demanded anything."
"Whenever I asked her to step back..."
"...she quietly did."
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"A mother notices the child who cries."
"But sometimes..."
"...she forgets to look at the child who stays silent."
Tears gathered in Zoya's eyes once again.
Her mother looked at both of her sons.
"I'm not sending my daughter away because I want to lose her."
"I'm sending her because I don't want her to spend her whole life wondering..."
"...what would have happened if I had trusted her."
Her elder brother lowered his gaze.
"But people will talk."
Her mother smiled faintly.
"They already do."
"If we start living for people..."
"...we'll never have peace."
She then looked toward Zoya.
"I have only one condition."
Zoya looked at her immediately.
"You'll never let this education take you away from Allah."
"And you'll never forget this home."
Before Zoya could stop herself, tears rolled down her cheeks.
She stood up, walked around the table, and knelt beside her mother.
Without saying a word...
she rested her head gently in her mother's lap.
"I promise."
Her voice was barely audible.
"I'll never give you a reason to lower your head."
Her mother placed a trembling hand on Zoya's head.
For the first time in many years...
she prayed for her daughter silently instead of deciding for her.
And at that moment...
none of them realized—
that the decision made around this breakfast table...
would one day carry Zoya thousands of miles away...
to a country called...
Where destiny...
had already begun waiting for her.
For the first time in many years...
she prayed for her daughter silently instead of deciding for her.
Zoya looked at her mother with tearful eyes.
For a brief moment...
she believed everything was finally going to be alright.
Then—
her mother's voice echoed through the silence.
"You can study."
"You can even go abroad."
A faint smile appeared on Zoya's face.
But it disappeared before it could fully form.
"There is only one condition."
Zoya looked at her mother, confused.
"What condition, Mom?"
Her mother answered without hesitation.
"You don't want a wedding."
"Fine."
"But you will leave after your Nikah."
"So that wherever you go..."
"...you remember that one day you have to come back."
The words struck Zoya like lightning.
A tear that had been resting in her eyes slipped down instantly.
Her breathing faltered.
For a second...
She wasn't looking at the dining table anymore.
She was looking at...
last night's dream.
A bride dressed in a Nikah outfit.
Someone asking,
"Do you accept?"
Her heart had tightened so painfully that even in the dream she couldn't breathe.
She had tried to say no...
and woken up on her prayer mat, gasping for air.
At that moment, she had dismissed it as nothing more than a nightmare.
But now...
hearing the same words from her mother's lips...
It felt less like a dream...
and more like a warning.
Zoya instinctively took two slow steps backwards.
Her eyes never left her mother.
Her voice trembled.
"I..."
"I can't do that."
The room fell silent again.
Her elder brother frowned.
"Why?"
"We've agreed to let you study."
"What's wrong with a Nikah?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Or..."
"...is there another reason?"
Before he could finish—
Zoya turned toward him.
There was hurt in her eyes.
But there was dignity too.
"No."
"I want to study."
"That's all."
"And I promise you..."
She looked at her mother.
"I will never marry without your permission."
"That promise is enough."
Her voice broke.
"So please..."
"Don't ask me to prove my intentions by tying me to a relationship I am not ready for."
She swallowed hard.
Then looked at her brother.
"If you say anything more..."
"...you'll only make me fall in my own eyes."
Silence.
No one answered.
Zoya lowered her gaze.
She couldn't stay there anymore.
She quietly turned around...
and walked out of the dining room.
No one stopped her.
Her mother watched her leave.
For the first time...
she realised something she had never understood before.
Zoya wasn't running away from marriage.
She was running toward a dream.
And somewhere between the two...
there was a fear her daughter still hadn't found the words to explain.
Weeks passed.
Zoya's passport arrived.
Then came the endless paperwork.
University applications.
Document verification.
Financial statements.
Recommendations.
Visa requirements.
Every completed step revealed another waiting ahead.
By the time everything had been arranged...
almost six months had passed.
Life at home kept moving.
During those months, her cousin Pashma got married.
Soon after...
the same proposal that everyone had wanted for Zoya was accepted by another girl, and that marriage took place as well.
No one mentioned it in front of Zoya.
But she knew.
Her brothers remained distant.
They still believed she had made the wrong decision.
Zoya never argued.
She had learned that not every silence meant defeat.
Sometimes...
Silence was simply patience.
She focused on her applications instead.
One rejection.
Then another.
Then another.
Every email made her heart sink a little more.
Yet every time she remembered her prayer, she whispered to herself,
"Allah promised nothing would come before its appointed time."
Then...
One morning...
an email arrived.
Congratulations.
She had been accepted.
Not in Korea.
But in China.
For several minutes, she simply stared at the screen.
She smiled.
Alhamdulillah.
Maybe...
This was the door Allah had opened for her.
The family, too, slowly began preparing.
Documents were submitted.
Fees were arranged.
The admission process was almost complete.
Only a few formalities remained.
Then...
Just as everything was about to be finalised...
another email appeared in her inbox.
She opened it absentmindedly.
Her eyes stopped moving.
She read the first line.
Then the second.
Then she read it again.
Her heart began to race.
It wasn't China.
It was...
Pusan National University.
A partial scholarship.
For a long moment, she couldn't breathe.
She checked the sender.
Then the university name again.
Then the scholarship letter.
Again.
And again.
As if she was afraid it would disappear.
The dream she had carried since her father's lifetime...
was suddenly standing in front of her.
China had been the practical choice.
Everything there was almost complete.
But her heart...
quietly leaned somewhere else.
That evening, after offering two rak'ahs of prayer, she made her decision.
She respectfully declined the Chinese admission.
And accepted the offer from Pusan National University.
The next three months tested her patience more than anything before.
The paperwork seemed endless.
The visa process moved painfully slowly.
At home...
The distance between her and her family remained.
They never stopped her.
But they never truly accepted her decision either.
Sometimes silence hurts more than harsh words.
Still...
Zoya remained patient.
She remembered the promise she had made to Allah.
She would wait.
Without complaint.
Until He opened the door completely.
And then...
the day finally arrived.
With a single suitcase beside her...
and a backpack resting on her shoulder...
Zoya stood inside the airport.
Her mother hugged her tightly before letting go.
Her eyes were wet.
"So are you."
Neither of them spoke the words aloud.
Some goodbyes are too heavy for language.
After meeting everyone one last time...
Zoya walked toward immigration.
She didn't look back immediately.
Because she knew...
if she did...
she might not find the strength to keep walking.
Hours later...
after one long flight...
and another...
the aircraft finally descended.
As the wheels touched the runway...
Zoya quietly looked out of the window.
South Korea.
She whispered,
"Alhamdulillah."
A few moments later...
She stepped out of the airport.
Cold air brushed against her face.
She adjusted her scarf and looked around.
Everything felt unfamiliar.
A different language.
Different faces.
A different world.
She had no idea...
that destiny had been waiting for her long before she arrived.
Not far away...
Camera flashes lit up the airport entrance.
Security guards hurried through the crowd.
People were calling out excitedly.
Someone important had just arrived.
Zoya paused for a moment, curiously looking toward the commotion.
From a distance...
She could only see flashes of light surrounding someone like a living showcase.
No one knew this country had already begun writing the next chapter of her story.
To be continued...
Regards,
ZK💌