<p> </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p>Yana was sitting beside Mummy, and Aamna was sitting on a chair. Suddenly, a sharp pain twisted in her stomach, and she held her belly, screaming. Mummy's eyes opened immediately. Aamna quickly moved to an empty bed, panting and calling for the doctor.</p><p>The doctor entered and said, “Now, a sick person is going to take care of another sick person?”</p><p>Aamna bit her lip and replied, “I will. Doctor, it's none of your business. Just do your job. Here is your money.”</p><p>The doctor laughed and said, “Aamna, right?”</p><p>She responded, “No, it's Amy. Don’t ever call me Aamna again!”</p><p>Meanwhile, Ahmad opened a bag, took out expensive bottles of alcohol, and started drinking while Mummy slept.</p><p>As she lay there, she turned and watched him, unaware that it was alcohol—she thought it was some fancy drink for rich people. She kept staring at him, swallowing her saliva.</p><p>Aamna remarked, “Whoever eats alone, dies alone.”</p><p>Ahmad responded, “Are you saying my father will be the one to bury me?”</p><p>Aamna said, “I'm just singing a song.”</p><p>Ahmad replied, "And am I stopping you?" He continued swallowing his pills as if he was about to throw a punch.</p><p>Aamna was secretly scared of him, but her boldness wouldn’t allow her to back down.</p><p>Mummy, still lying down, breathed heavily. She knew what he was drinking because she could smell it.</p><p>Ahmad didn’t care about anyone's opinion. After finishing his drink, he stood up, slipped his phone into the pocket of his ripped jeans, and placed his hand on Mummy’s head, saying, “May Allah grant you good health. I’m going home to shower, but I’ll be back.”</p><p>Mummy responded, “You will never change, will you? Do you want to die from heartbreak and leave me in sorrow?”</p><p>He simply smiled and said, “I’ll be back, Mum. I’ll sleep here tonight. Keep praying for me—I want to change, but I can’t.”</p><p>He knelt before her, and she placed her hand on his head, praying, “May Allah guide you, Ahmad. May He bless you and protect you.”</p><p>"Ameen, my sweet Mum," he said, genuinely pleased before leaving with confidence, walking as if he were a prince.</p><p>He hopped onto his bike, sped off like he was about to take flight, and headed straight home. When he arrived, he went straight to his well-maintained bathroom, took a luxurious shower with expensive, fragrant liquid soap, and then hurriedly performed his Maghrib and Isha prayers—though he wasn’t very serious about religion.</p><p>After his prayers, he raised his hands and made a heartfelt dua:</p><p>"Ya Allah, even though I don’t always pray, I know I am sinful. Please forgive me. I want to change, but I can’t. Help me, ya Allah. Let me die as a Muslim, not in sin. Save me from Hellfire and grant me a long, healthy life. Please don’t take me too soon. Keep me away from modern-day diseases and poverty. Bless me with wealth that is halal and beneficial.</p><p>And even though I’m not desperate for marriage, Mummy wants me to marry. Ya Allah, grant me a righteous wife—educated in both religion and the modern world. Someone smart and not a village girl. Ya Allah, give me a beautiful woman, maybe light-skinned, chocolate-toned, or fair—someone whose beauty alone makes me smile, even when I don’t intend to. A woman with a full figure, not too slim."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
