He was lost in his thoughts, drifting back through the past, gathering himself inside that cloud of darkness where not even a trace of light could reach — the place where he had lost himself many times before.
A knock at the door pulled him back.
He stilled immediately, eyes falling shut. The door opened slowly and Czar already knew — it was Mahira. She peeked inside carefully, checking whether he was asleep, then stepped in with light, measured footsteps, making sure not to disturb the quiet.
She sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand reached out and gently ruffled the hair back from his forehead, leaning slightly as she did — his face was turned away from her, toward the wall. Small slivers of light crept into the room through the open door.
"I know you are not asleep yet," she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. "I can tell by your posture. Since you have been here — you are not eating, not talking much, and not sleeping well."
His heart went heavy.
He almost wanted to turn around and cry in her arms — tell her everything, all of it, every piece of the weight he had been carrying. But how much could he tell her? And would she be able to bear it? He could not take that risk. Mahira was a sensitive person. He knew that better than anyone.
"I will never force you to open up," she continued softly, her voice steady but tender. "But I am getting worried seeing you like this every day. It hurts me to the core. I cannot see you this way. This burden is eating you and I know it — you should at least speak to someone about what is happening inside you."
She paused. Her hand moved to his face and gently wiped away the tear that had slipped from the corner of his eye.
"I love you so much, my dear. I hope you will be fine soon." A small pause. "I will sleep here on the sofa tonight if you are comfortable with that. Just say yes. I want to be near you."
She waited.
He said nothing. Quiet as clouds before rain.
She smiled a little, soft and understanding, and sat straight. "Don't worry. I understood." She then spoke again — gently, without hurry. "Let me convey something to you which will make your heart little light" she went quiet straight for 10 minutes and then spoke
"Ayyub (AS) was tested with the loss of his health, his wealth, and his children — for many years. What is striking is how long he stayed silent. He did not complain to people. He did not protest openly. He did not beg others for sympathy. He endured in near-total silence until — only when his suffering became physically unbearable — he turned to Allah alone."
(Surah Al-Anbiya 21:83-84 / Surah Sad 38:41-44)
She paused.
"Indeed, adversity has touched me, and you are the Most Merciful of the merciful."
"He did not even make it a demand. Just a whisper. And Allah answered immediately."
She stood quietly for a moment longer, then moved toward the door. Before pulling it shut, she turned back toward his silhouette one last time.
"His silence wasn't weakness. It was dignity. He refused to let his pain become a performance for people."
The door closed.
Several tears left Czar's eyes. His heart turned heavy, his lips sealed, his throat tight. His thoughts pressed down on him from every direction and his silence — the same silence he had always carried — continued eating him whole.
Mahira walked quietly to her room and closed the door behind her. She turned on the light and stood there for a moment, and then several tears left her eyes too. She looked upward and whispered.
"Ya Allah — ease things for my child. Do not let him be unaware of Your mercy. Grant him hidayah and turn him toward Yourself, because Your love will never weaken him. It will make him stronger than he has ever been."
Days passed.
Sunday arrived the way it always did — softly. The delicate sound of birds chirping outside, silence settled over the whole house, and Elaya at her desk as usual, scrolling through documents on her laptop while Ava stood behind her, setting her hair into a neat ponytail and humming quietly to herself.
Soft morning light spilled across the room. When Ava finished, she leaned down and tickled Elaya without warning.
Elaya laughed — a real laugh — and spun around, shutting her laptop.
"So now what will you do," she said, a flirty, threatening look on her face.
"Elayaaa—" Ava shrieked and took off across the room.
Elaya was already chasing her, fingers wiggling. "Stop right there, it is my turn to tickle you!"
Ava ran for her life, laughing loudly, until Elaya caught her by the waist and dropped her softly onto the sofa, tickling her without mercy.
"You are just doing like my mom — stop, stop!" Ava giggled, laughing her heart out.
Then her hand flew to her mouth.
Elaya went still.
The word mom hung in the air between them. Elaya's hands withdrew slowly, her eyes dropping to her lap, the laughter gone from her face as quietly as a candle being put out.
Ava sat up straight, her own smile fading. "Sorry," she whispered.
Elaya looked up and smiled — the kind of smile that costs something. Ava reached out and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of each of Elaya's hands, one after the other.
Elaya looked at her, eyes glassy.