Amina barely slept.
Even when her eyes stayed shut, her mind kept running, replaying every second of the night before: the argument, the warnings, the kiss she didn't expect, and the question that still sat in her chest like a stone.
What exactly did Rafi want from her?
By dawn, the house felt too quiet. The harmattan breeze slipped through the cracked window, brushing her skin with its dry chill. She sat up, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, and let the silence settle.
It wasn't peaceful.
It was heavy… almost expectant.
Somewhere downstairs, she heard voices—muted, tense, nothing like a normal morning in the Yusuf household. Her heartbeat picked up. Nothing in that house ever stayed calm for long.
She stepped into the hallway and found Maryam leaning at the base of the stairs with her arms crossed tightly, her lips pressed so thin they almost disappeared. She wasn't shouting—yet. But her anger was unmistakable.
Amina paused halfway down the stairs.
"What happened?" she asked cautiously.
Maryam didn't look up. "Go and ask your precious prince," she snapped. "Since he's the only one you listen to."
Amina blinked. "Rafi is here?"
Maryam scoffed. "He never left."
That didn't make sense. He'd walked her home last night… he shouldn't be—
Footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Rafi appeared, phone in hand, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight. He stopped the moment he saw Amina on the stairs. For a second, the morning tension broke—his expression softened, just a little.
"Amina," he said quietly.
Something in his voice made Maryam stiffen beside him. The air sparked.
"What's going on?" Amina asked.
Rafi hesitated. "I needed to speak with your father. It couldn't wait."
Maryam clicked her tongue and turned away like she couldn't stand the sound of his voice.
Amina stepped off the last stair. "Is everything okay?"
"No," Maryam answered sharply. "It is not."
Rafi ignored her and focused fully on Amina. "Your exams are in three weeks," he said. "You can't keep studying in this environment."
Amina's breath caught. "Rafi…"
"I spoke to your father," he continued before she could stop him. "I've arranged a safe place for you to stay until exams are over."
Maryam exploded. "Over my dead body!"
Rafi didn't flinch. "It's temporary. She'll return after."
"This is my house," Maryam barked. "And nobody—nobody—will take that girl out without my permission."
Amina pressed a hand against her chest. "Rafi, you shouldn't have—"
"I should," he cut in softly. "Yesterday proved you're not safe here."
Maryam stepped forward, eyes burning. "You think money lets you come here and dictate? You think because you're rich the whole world must listen?"
Rafi stayed calm. Too calm. "No. I'm doing what a responsible adult should do."
The tension vibrated through the walls.
Amina's father finally stepped out from his room, adjusting his glasses. His eyes were worried, beaten down by the storm already gathering.
"Maryam," he said quietly. "Let's not do this again today."
She rounded on him. "So you agree? You want her to go with him?"
He didn't answer. And that silence—deep, ashamed, exhausted—was enough.
Maryam turned away like she had been stabbed. "This house has turned upside down."
Amina felt torn in two.
"Rafi," she whispered. "I can handle it."
"No," he said simply. "You've handled enough."
He walked closer until she could almost feel his breath. His voice dropped lower.
"But it's your choice, Amina. If you say no, I'll step back."
Her heart hammered. His confidence wasn't the loud kind it was steady, patient, protective. And that scared her almost as much as it comforted her.
Maryam spat from across the room, "Choose well, Amina. If you leave with him, don't bother coming back."
Her father winced. "Maryam, stop—"
She didn't.
The whole room froze.
Amina stood still, the weight of both futures pressing on her shoulders. She could taste fear and freedom at the same time, bittersweet and overwhelming.
Rafi watched her—not demanding, not controlling… just waiting.
"Amina," he said softly, "you don't owe anyone your pain."
Her eyes stung.
She looked at Maryam. At the cracked walls. At the life she had survived, not lived.
Then she looked at Rafi.
And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to imagine a different version of her future—one where she wasn't running, hiding, or apologizing for existing.
She inhaled shakily.
"I'll go," she said.
The words dropped like thunder.
Maryam shouted something, but Amina didn't hear. Rafi moved toward her, relief flooding his eyes even though he tried to keep his expression steady.
"A wise decision," he murmured.
But as he reached for her hand, something shifted in the room—an invisible boundary breaking.
And in that moment, Amina realized the truth:
Leaving the house was the easy part.
What waited outside… especially with Rafi… would be much harder.