ECHOES OF DEFIANCE

chapter 34

*Farhana’s POV**

*Innalillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.* Why is everything falling apart? Amma is sick, and it’s been seventeen hours since I last heard from Zain. What is wrong? Why isn't his phone going through? The silence is unbearable, suffocating. Each second stretches into an eternity, filling me with dread. The only person who can comfort me about Amma is gone, and the person who could soothe my heart about Zain is the one I'm terrified of losing.

I sob loudly, uncontrollably, as I lay on the prayer mat, my phone still clutched in my trembling hands, constantly dialing Zain's number. My heart beats in sync with the ringing, hopeful, desperate—until that deafening voicemail tone fills my ears once again. No answer. No Zain. It’s as if the world has swallowed him whole, and I’m left here, gasping for air, grasping at straws.

I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours—no food, no water. My body feels weak, fragile, but my mind is a storm. I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally, yet sleep is a distant dream. How can I rest when everything is unraveling before me?

Just then, my phone rings. For a moment, my heart leaps, hoping it's Zain, but it’s Ozge. Her voice is gentle, concerned. "How are you feeling?" she asks.

And that’s all it takes. The walls I’ve been holding up shatter. I break down, sobbing into the phone. “My Amma… she’s sick. They told me to prepare for the worst.”

The words are heavy, suffocating. It feels like I’m drowning in them, but I can’t bring myself to tell her about Zain. That would be admitting another layer of fear, another part of my world crumbling. I don’t have the strength for that—not yet.

After the call ends, I stare blankly at my phone, my fingers moving on their own as I check flights to Qatar. *Maybe he’s there,* I think. Maybe something happened, something beyond my understanding. But even his father’s number isn’t going through.

Panic rises in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I decide to check the news, praying I’ll find something to explain this silence. And then, the headline slaps me across the face.

*Qatar Royal Wedding: Prince Nahyan bin Safwan and Princess Mahra bint Rasasi to tie the knot tomorrow.*

I freeze, staring at the screen. The words blur as my mind tries to process what I'm reading. “Who… who is Nahyan?” My voice trembles, barely a whisper. They’re not referring to my Zain, are they? No… it can’t be. My pulse quickens, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum.

Suddenly, a message notification pops up. It’s from Ozge again, forwarding me a voice note. With trembling hands, I press play.

"Baby," Zain’s voice fills the air, familiar yet distant. "I’ve been trying to reach you, but your phone wasn’t going through. I heard about Amma. Don’t worry too much; she’ll be okay. I’m catching the next flight back to Seoul. Please, try to stay off the internet for me, okay?"

His voice, usually a source of warmth, now feels like ice coursing through my veins. He went to get married… without telling me? My heart shatters into a million pieces. I didn’t even realize how much I loved him until now—until the thought of losing him to another woman became too real.

The tears come harder now, wracking my body with sobs. I can’t stop them, can’t hold back the torrent of emotions. Fear, anger, betrayal, and a crushing sense of helplessness wash over me. The thought of sharing him with someone else—another woman—feels like a knife to my heart. What am I supposed to do? What can I do?

I want to see him, to look him in the eyes and demand the truth. Has he already married her? Is that what he’s coming back from?

“*Allahumma ajirni fee musibati…*” I whisper, struggling to finish the prayer, seeking relief from this torment. My hands shake as I wipe the tears from my face, but my heart continues to crumble.

In my desperation, I dial Ya Usman. He’s on his way from Canada, but I need his voice right now, his reassurance. When he answers, I try to speak, but the words get stuck in my throat. Instead of comforting him, he’s the one comforting me. His voice is calm, soothing, but I can’t tell him the full truth—not about Zain. Not yet.

“We’re all worried about you, Farhana,” he says softly. “But Amma will pull through, Insha’Allah. Stay strong.”

His words offer a momentary relief, a flicker of hope in this overwhelming darkness. But Zain’s absence still hangs over me, a cloud of uncertainty and fear.

Hours later, when Amma and the family finally arrive at SNU Teaching Hospital, the air feels thick with tension. Amma is taken in for surgery, and the waiting begins. Time moves slowly, each minute stretching into an agonizing eternity. Every breath feels heavy, each heartbeat a reminder of everything I don’t know—about Amma, about Zain, about my entire world.

When the doctor finally emerges, his face calm, he speaks words that make my heart skip a beat. “The surgery went well,” he says. “She’s going to be okay.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I breathe a sigh of relief. *Alhamdulillah.* Amma is going to be okay. That light of hope I’ve been clinging to flares up, bright and steady. But even as I exhale, a new storm brews inside me.

Zain. He’s still out there, somewhere, and I don’t know if the man who comes back to me will be the same.

As I sit in the sterile waiting room, exhaustion creeping over me, I close my eyes and try to imagine what happens next. Will everything go back to the way it was? Will Zain come back to me, unchanged? Or is everything I’ve known about our life about to unravel?

I don’t know. And that uncertainty is tearing me apart