Eighteen-year-old Hayat Amanullah has it all: a loving family, a carefree life, and a future at the Ivy League school of her dreams. But her perfect life shatters when her oldest brother suddenly dies in a car accident. The tight-knit Amanullah fami...
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~ Daffodil: Uncertainty ~
My parents waste no time in calling Aneela's parents. They have a lengthy conversation over the phone, which I unabashedly eavesdrop on, and when my mom is turning the phone off I rush quickly away from their bedroom door.
Only to find Ihsaan not far from where I had been standing, huddled in a corner of the hallway and trying to make himself invisible.
I fold my arms and smirk. "I can see you, you know."
He squeezes his eyes shut and presses himself against the wall. "No. Nothing to see here. This is just another part of the wall."
A burst of giggles escapes me. I walk up to my brother and poke his shoulder. He opens one eye and gives me a sheepish look. "Ihsaan, were you eavesdropping?"
His other eye opens and he sighs, rubbing the spot where I poked him. "Why do your fingers feel like screws?"
"Why are you avoiding the question?"
"Well, you were eavesdropping too," he shoots back defensively.
A slow, mischievous smile spreads across my face. "Dear, dear, Ihsaan Amanullah. This excited to hear what Aneela's parents have to say, are we?"
He opens his mouth to retaliate but at that moment my parents exit their room. Immediately Ihsaan and I straighten, wiping the smiles off our faces and standing shoulder to shoulder with our arms behind our backs.
Papa's eyes are glittering as his gaze darts between the two of us. "Do I need to ask what you two are doing here?"
My mom tsks. "Sharam karo. Listening to your parents' conversations." Then her face breaks into a smile as she fixes her attention on Ihsaan. "Beta, her parents were very happy. Aneela happened to be home, and they spoke to her before calling us back. She seemed a bit shocked, understandably, but she has asked for some time to think about it and pray istikhara, as you did."
I snap my head towards Ihsaan, barely contained excitement roiling throughout me. He tries to play the news off as nonchalant, but I don't miss the spark of happiness in his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as if in contentment, then reopens them and nods to my parents.
I nudge him playfully. "We can see right through your act."
"Oh, shut up." He lightly shoves my shoulder and dashes downstairs, leaving the three of us exchanging overjoyed glances.
"I hope she really considers it and gives it some thought," my mom murmurs.
Papa wraps an arm around her shoulder. "She will, Insha Allah. And Allah will grant both of them what is best for them."
A week later, my mom receives a phone call from Aneela's mom. I wait with bated breath as she picks it up in front of me, then squeal as soon as she turns it off a few minutes later.
