My English teacher once told twelve-year-old me that I had "the face of an owl" and that English wasn't for me.

I still have no idea what the owl part meant.

I still think about her sometimes

Not because I hate her. I don't.

If you're reading this novel in English, then Allah willed otherwise.

Everything good in these pages came from Allah first.

The older I get, the more I realize that people can support or hurt you, but they don't get the final say in your story

That's something Allah does

And He has always been kinder to me than I deserved.

If by some miracle she ever reads this:

To you, Miss: The owl has now written a novel.

And if I'm good at English today, I can't honestly give you much credit for that.

May Allah forgive us both.



B.D. Zeinéb : dreams in ink and builds stories that don't just end when you close the book. I can't get enough of stories about strength, and the quiet storms inside us all.