Farid ibn Omar Qureshi, a 27-year-old hacker with the face of a Greek god and a sharp, cunning mind, thrives on chaos. Arrogant, charming, and an unapologetic playboy, he works for Turkey's government, living by his own rules and rejecting all notio...
Be moderate in your pace. And lower your voice, for the ugliest of all voices is certainly the braying of donkeys.
(Qur'an 31:19 surah luqman)
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-H A L A-
What kind of husband had I gotten, ya Rabb? Could a man like him even exist?
First off, he didn’t even accept Islam and openly claimed to be an atheist. I know it’s his life and his choice, but still—marrying me to someone like him? Why would Baba choose him for me?
Second, he was rude—really rude. How could he just push me like that? I’d take my revenge for sure.
“Are you okay, Hala?”
A sweet voice interrupted my chaotic thoughts, and I turned toward its source.
Sarah.
She stood there, glasses perched on her nose, books in her arms, and a small backpack slung over her shoulder.
“Yes, I’m fine, Sarah,” I replied with a weak smile.
Sarah, my best friend and study partner at university, was always concerned about me. We were in our final year of MBBS together. Yes, MBBS—I was studying to become a neurosurgeon. Cool, right?
Right now, we were sitting in our university cafeteria.
“Then where are you lost?” she asked, plopping down beside me. She placed her glasses and books on the table and her bag on the floor, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion.
