Mafia's Pious Addiction|| KTH FF📕

✿ Ep 5: Buried beneath calm

|A tale of love and faith|

"Honey, I'm so sorry to disturb you," Min-A began with a trembling voice, her tone dramatically flipped into sobs.

"But I'm truly exhausted... your younger daughter is misbehaving again."

Haya and Daaliya froze.

"I just asked her to clean a broken glass," she continued, voice cracking, "and she refused! She's raising her voice! She's talking back! Oh Allah... what sin have I committed to deserve this?" Min-A's voice shook with fake grief.

"My foot is bleeding, and still... she won't let Daaliya come to help me!" She sobbed louder, pressing her phone to her ear as if she were being tortured.

"I don't know what more I can take," she wailed. "Nobody respects me in this house! Not even your daughters..."

Haya stood there, stunned. Her lips parted in disbelief.

"Why are you lying, Mother?" she asked loudly, shocked__her words piercing through the room.

Min-A's eyes widened at Haya's courage, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she looked even more wounded.

"You see?!" she cried dramatically into the phone. "She's calling me a liar now! Ya Allah, I've failed as a mother! I'm so ashamed...!"

Daaliya's mouth hung open, horrified at the scene. Haya's nose was red, her eyes swollen, skin pale__visibly sick. But even in this state, she stood between her sister and the storm.

Then, Min-A lowered her phone with a new expression__coldly sweet.

"He wants to talk to you, Haya," she said, her voice coated in false kindness as she handed the phone.

Haya clenched her jaw, her flared nostrils and narrowed eyes showing barely-contained fury. She took the phone from her hand, just as Min-A pressed the speaker button__she wouldn't dare let them talk in private.

"Assalamu Alaikum, Appa," Haya said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Wa Alaikum Assalam, Mija," her father's voice replied, gentle as always. "Is it true what I'm hearing? That you misbehaved with your mother?"

Just his tone__warm, affectionate, calling her Mija (my daughter)__made her heart tighten with guilt she hadn't earned.

"Appa... I only said I'd clean the glass myself," she said softly, pausing to cough mid-sentence. Her voice cracked with strain.

Her father sighed, hearing her weakness. "Mija, even if that's true... maybe your words hurt her. Please, just apologize. Say sorry in front of me__for my sake."

His voice was like honey: sweet, calm, yet filled with silent weight.

Haya felt something tug inside her. Her father__always loving, never harsh__was being misled, and she hated it. But she also knew: he couldn't see what Min-A really was.

Her eyes burned, but she swallowed the anger and looked at Min-A. Her gaze stayed cold.

"...I'm sorry."

Her words came out flat, stiff, with no warmth. But her father didn't notice.

"That's my good girl," he said with relief. "But I heard you coughing — are you sick, Mija?"

Despite everything, Haya's lips lifted in a faint smile. Even from miles away, he always noticed.

"Yes, Appa... I caught the flu. I was... enjoying the rain."