Zainab’s breath felt stuck in her chest. “Then what were you?”
A long silence followed. Outside, the wind moved through the dry trees, brushing against the hut like distant footsteps.
“I come from a family you would recognize,” he said at last. “Not because they are famous… but because they are the kind of people your father serves.”
Her fingers tightened instinctively. “What does that mean?”
He exhaled, as though the words had weight. “I am not poor, Zainab. I was sent to your village in disguise.”
Her body went cold.
“A disguise,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She pulled her hands away, stumbling back. “Why would anyone do that to me? To pretend—why would you pretend to be a beggar?”
His voice stayed steady, but heavy with something like regret. “Because your father made a decision years ago that wasn’t his alone. There are people involved in things you were never meant to be part of.”
Zainab shook her head quickly. “I don’t understand. I was just… discarded.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You were hidden.”
That word hit harder than anything else.
Hidden.
She turned away, pressing her palm against the wall to steady herself. “So this marriage… my father… it was planned?”
“Yes.”
The room felt smaller suddenly, like the walls were leaning in.
Yusha stood slowly, careful not to approach her too quickly. “I was told to watch you. To make sure you were safe. To see what kind of life you were living.”
“And you decided to lie to me instead?” her voice cracked.
“I didn’t lie about everything,” he said softly. “The tea, the walks, the stories… that was real.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “So what part of you was real, Yusha?”
Silence again.
Then he said, “All of me.”
Footsteps sounded outside. Heavy. Multiple.
Zainab froze. “Who is that?”
Yusha turned toward the door, suddenly alert in a way she had never heard before.
“It’s time,” he said quietly.
Her stomach dropped. “Time for what?”
A knock came. Not polite. Not uncertain. A command.
Yusha stepped closer to her now, voice lowered. “Zainab, listen to me. Whatever you think is happening, it is bigger than your father, bigger than this village.”
The knocking grew louder.
He placed something small into her hand. Cold metal.
A key.
“You need to decide something,” he said.
The door shook slightly under the pressure from outside.
“Decide what?” she whispered, terrified now.
“Whether you run with me,” he said, “or stay and hear the truth from them.”
The knocking stopped.
A voice called from outside, calm and controlled:
“Open the door. Bring her out. She belongs to her real family now.”
Zainab couldn’t breathe.
Yusha tightened his grip on her hand just once.
And then he said the words that changed everything again:
“They know you can see more than you’re supposed to.”