Chapter One

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Third Person's POV:

A glamorous, red embroidered wedding dress shone back at her deep hazel eyes as they inspected it with awe. The golden beads that traveled down the neck to the bodice, making golden spiraling designs that were enough to make any girl squeal out of joy.

A strand of wavy hair was tugged behind her ear by her long, slender fingers. One of them was surrounded by a diamond ring that shone brighter than the ceiling lights of the shabby room.

Maryam looked around the room, thinking that it was probably her last night there—if Allah willed and her foster parents didn't do anything to stop the wedding. She remembered the nasty look on Salma—her foster mother's face when she heard Amna Saleh express her eagerness for Maryam to become her daughter-in-law.

Only a few weeks before the gorgeous dress arrived at her doorstep, did she hear the news that her foster father, Mehmood Abdul Ghafoor had said yes to the Saleh couple. It was a strange feeling that she felt at that moment. Excitement and joy were some of the emotions she felt with fear and worry.

The strange feeling returned as she started at the dress hanged neatly in the small cupboard. She eyed the heavy-looking dupatta that was even more embroidered than the dress. Finally, the day came that she was going to wear that piece of art.

It looked expensive, to say the least, but it was already expected of Amna Saleh and her husband, Mua'az Saleh.

A knock on the door made Maryam snap out of her daydream and she turned quickly towards the door. She pushed it open, which revealed her little sister, Husna, probably the only person in the house that had better things to do than make Maryam regret she was ever born.

Husna was just 13. She was mostly oblivious of Maryam's existence but she was nice. "Mom's asking if you're ready," she asked, pulling her phone away from her face that showed her round black eyes and brown ponytail. Maryam nodded.

"Almost," she replied. Then, she pointed to her face. "Do you think it looks okay?" she asked Husna who acknowledged the makeup on her face at that moment. With a small smile and a thumbs up, she spoke. "Great. You look exactly like those glamorous brides in Indian films." with that, she left.

Maryam smiled to no one in particular and walked away from the door to put on the dress–something she was dreading. Finally, after struggling inside the wedding gown and avoiding getting her bun tangled in the beads, she looked at herself one last time in the mirror.

She looked nice. But something was missing.

She tried looking at herself after pulling on the heavy jewelry that was also her soon-to-be mother-in-law's gift. But again, she felt like she was missing something.

As if on cue, Salma barged inside, wearing her sparkly peach Kurti and trousers. "My God, Maryam! Can't you do anything right?!" she stormed up to the confused girl and took her by the shoulders.

"You had one task! Just one! And you couldn't even do that properly." as she ranted on about how useless Maryam was, she fixed the heavy dupatta over her head, concealing the perfect bun. Just two curled strands fell out from the sides of her face. After the dupatta was pinned up, Salma breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now that you're ready, let's get going." weirdly, Salma wasn't very noisy that day. Maryam looked at herself one last time and a smile broke out on her face. "Perfect." she thought to herself as her mother bickered on and on in the background.

"Move your lazy self, already! Don't you know the time of the function? We're late!" that made Maryam start walking on her pencil high heels. She ignored the pain as she was excited to live the experience of wearing such expensive and long heels.

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