Inked Sapphire (Dear Dahlia Season 3)

9

Naima sat and undid her ponytails whilst Sayeda cooked dinner. Outside, the wind howled against the windows.

“The storm has come,” Sayeda declared. “We must stay inside so the wind doesn’t get us.”
“It won’t,” Naima replied, watching the fire. “You are too worrisome, Mama.”

Sayeda sat down beside her daughter. She waved her hand over the grate, and fire began to burn inside it. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “But I am allowed to be. We have not had a storm like this in years.”

Naima’s thoughts strayed to Laiyana. How was she, right now? Did she have her hands over her ears, or was she ignoring the storm altogether? When lightning struck the ground, did her eyes sparkle the way they did in sunlight?

There was another rumble of thunder. Naima jumped at the sound, and trembled in her mother’s arms. The girl fancied herself fearless, but ever since her father had passed, it felt like something inside her had cracked. In these moments, she could almost feel the hole widen.

Sayeda sighed softly. “It’s okay,” she said into her daughter’s hair. “This will pass, and tomorrow it’ll be sunny again.”
I know, Naima wanted to say, but she couldn’t find a way to speak them. And so, she drifted off near the smokeless fire, and dreamed, even as lightning flashed across the sky.

Sayeda was right; the next day came bringing sunshine. Naima walked along the village paths, picking her way through the mud that had been turned sloshy by the rain. Many people were staying inside today, but Naima desperately wanted to get out after being cooped up all of yesterday. She came across a bunch of dahlias. The girl plucked one from the bush and made her way towards Laiyana’s house. She knocked on the door.

“Naima, you’re here!” Laiyana said joyously. Inaya smiled from the hallway.
“This is for you.” Naima held out the dahlia. Laiyana’s eyes widened. “For me?” She took it from her friend slowly. Naima awkwardly cleared her throat. “You know, for the necklace.” She gestured to her emerald pendant.
“Oh yes,” Laiyana said, eyes lighting up. “The necklace.”

Naima glanced up at the ceiling. Miraculously, it had somehow not caved in to the pressure of last night’s storm. It still looked as new as ever - a testament to Bilal’s skills with wood and textiles. Naima let herself be led to Laiyana’s garden, and there the two played games. They did hopscotch first, then passed a ball to each other. As Naima kicked the ball and watched it lightly hit the wall opposite her, she realised she missed her father more than she thought she had. Even after all these years, his death still felt like it was yesterday.

As if recognising Naima’s feelings, the world began to cry, rain beginning to hit the ground with a plink. Laiyana took Naima’s hand and led her inside. Naima, feeling distant, let herself be led to the fire. There, Laiyana and her warmed up whilst lunch was served. Naima was quiet. Laiyana didn’t push her on why.

When Naima returned home, her mother was waiting, and knowing exactly what she wanted, as mothers do, said: “We will visit your father soon.”
Naima felt relief at that statement, and soon, the mother and daughter stepped out of the house and made their way to the graveyard.

The journey on foot was long. It took an hour, leading the two down a winding path to the back of the village. As always, the mist hung over it like a sort of ghost.

In the drizzle, Naima placed fresh flowers on her father’s grave. She stood up, and Sayeda put a hand on her shoulder. Let’s go, she wanted to say, but her chest twisted. Stay a while, said her heart. And so, Sayeda and Naima stood in peaceful quiet, letting the rain soak the ground and the coffin six feet below.