The sun pierced through the chipped shutters, casting golden lines across the dusty floor.
Amira had been up since dawn.
Silent and methodical, she had slipped into a dark work dress and tied her hair into a strict bun.
In the next room, Nahia opened her eyes, alerted by the movements.
She sat up, stretching, her heart beating with a strange nervousness.
She approached the small kitchen, where Amira was slipping a few clothes into a worn-out bag.
"You're leaving?" she asked, her voice still hoarse from sleep.
Amira turned to her with a gentle smile.
"Yes, little one. I have to work."
Nahia frowned, worried.
"Where to?"
Amira firmly tied the bag before replying:
"To the palace."
She saw the confusion in Nahia's eyes and clarified:
"I'm a housekeeper there. I take care of the housekeeping, the rooms, the kitchens."
Nahia remained silent for a few seconds, impressed.
"The palace..." she murmured.
"Yes. It's far from the village. I stay there all week, I only come back on weekends."
A pang of anxiety tightened Nahia's throat. She glanced toward the other room, where her sister Amaya still slept.
Amira sensed her thoughts and added in a reassuring voice:
"Don't worry. I did some shopping yesterday. You have enough to last until I return."
She pointed to bags filled with dry bread, dates, some vegetables, and a sack of rice.
"And above all, don't open the door to anyone. Don't go out for any reason."
Nahia nodded, her heart heavy.
"Thank you..." she whispered.
Amira stepped closer and placed her hands on her shoulders.
"Protect your sister. She is your light."
After one last look filled with emotion, she left the house.
The door clicked softly behind her, leaving Nahia and Amaya alone, facing the vastness of their doubts.
---
The first day passed slowly.
Nahia, refusing to sink into waiting, got to work. With Amaya by her side, she began to clean the house.
They scrubbed the floors, dusted the furniture, and cleaned the walls dulled by years. Under their careful hands, the small home came back to life.
By evening, they prepared a modest meal of rice and boiled vegetables.
Amaya ate in silence, her gaze distant, lost in thought.
Later, Nahia took her to the small room Amira had given them. Amaya quickly fell asleep, exhausted.
Nahia, however, remained awake.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, she stared into the darkness.
The weight of their situation gradually crushed her.
They were safe. For now. But for how long?
Her gaze drifted to the cracked ceiling. She thought of Amaya.
Of her thin frame. Her silence.
Amaya was no longer a child, no. But she was still vulnerable. Too gentle for this harsh world.
She deserved better. So much better.
Nahia felt anger and determination rise within her. She had to find a way. Work. Earn money. Offer Amaya a life with dignity.
But how, here, in a village where she was just a stranger, a pariah?
Maybe... by hiding.
Maybe... by changing her name.
Maybe... by offering her services to discreet traveling merchants who asked no questions.
Cleaning. Sewing. Laundry.
Anything but staying invisible.
A shiver ran through her. She hadn't forgotten the wary glances, the whispers.
She had to be cautious. Very cautious.
She stood, silent, and approached the small window.
Outside, the night stretched deep and starry.
Maybe this sky was the same as in Italy. Maybe their parents were watching over them.
Nahia pressed her forehead to the cold glass.
A silent vow formed in her heart:
She would never let anyone steal their future again.
---
The following days passed in a discreet routine.
At sunrise, Nahia prepared the little food they had.
Then, with Amaya, she cleaned again and again, until every corner shone.
They carefully organized Amira's belongings, respectful of the trust she had placed in them.
In the evening, after feeding Amaya and listening to her read a few pages from an old novel found in a drawer, Nahia sat alone by the window.
She watched the shadows lengthen. She thought. Of plans. Of ideas.
She refused to beg.
She refused to depend on Amira forever.
She wanted to be free.
Every night, the same thought returned, like a prayer:
"I must find a way. For Amaya. For us."
---
On the fourth day, Nahia felt something shift inside her.
A new fire burned in her chest.
She had made her decision.
As soon as Amira returned, she would speak to her.
She wanted to work. Even in the shadows. Even if it meant being rejected.
She didn't yet know how, or where.
But she would do it.
In this world, no one would come to save them. They had to fight.
And Nahia was ready.
Ready for anything.
Because love, sometimes, is the only force that turns fear into courage.