Yusha prepared tea for her with gentle hands.
He gave her his own coat and slept by the door, like a guardian protecting his queen.
He spoke to her sincerely, asking her what stories she liked, what dreams she had, what foods brought her joy.
No one had ever asked her anything like that before.
The days turned into weeks.
Yusha accompanied her to the river every morning, describing the sun, the birds, the trees—with such vivid poetry that Zainab could almost see them in her mind’s eye.
He sang to her while she washed clothes, and at night he told her stories about stars and faraway lands.
Zainab laughed for the first time in years.
Her heart began to open.
And in that small, strange hut… the unexpected happened:
Zainab fell in love.
One afternoon, while holding her hand, he asked her:
—Were you always a beggar?
Yusha hesitated. Then she replied in a soft voice:
—Not always.
But he said no more, and Zainab did not press the issue.
Until one day…
Zainab went to the market alone to buy vegetables.
Yusha had given her clear instructions, and she memorized them step by step.
But halfway there, someone grabbed her arm tightly.
“Blind rat!” a voice spat. It was her sister, Aminah.
“Are you still alive? Still pretending to be a beggar’s wife?”
Zainab felt tears welling up, but she remained resolute.
“I’m happy,” he said.
Aminah let out a cruel laugh.
“You don’t even know what it’s like. It’s trash… just like you.”
And then, he whispered something that broke her heart:
Continued on the next page
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