The Mystery of the Third Child
One night, Rowan posed a question that Abdullah found unsettling. "What do you think, Baidah, if we have another baby? Rashoud is three and a half, and Khaled is five. It's time for a little sister—a mini-Smarah for me to dress up and teach all my mischievous ways. You'll have two of us to drive you crazy!"
Abdullah's answer was firm: "Not now, Smarah. We've been in exile for less than a year, and our financial situation is still unstable. Let's finish furnishing the house and settle our affairs first."
Rowan smiled sweetly, "As you wish, my Baidah."
But less than two months later, she dropped the bombshell: She was pregnant.
Abdullah was stunned. "What about the long-term contraceptive the doctor placed inside you?" he demanded.
Rowan played the part of the remorseful victim perfectly. "I had it removed back in Jordan. Khaled accidentally hit me in the stomach while we were playing, and it caused heavy bleeding. The doctor advised its removal."
The Anatomy of a Lie
Abdullah's anger flared. "And why didn't you tell me? I am your husband, your partner! This decision belongs to both of us!"
Rowan tried to soothe him with a well-rehearsed apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be this upset. I meant to tell you when we reached Riyadh, but I forgot. Besides," she added, hitting his moral soft spot, "this is a gift from God. Every child brings their own sustenance. If my pregnancy bothers you that much, I'll go to the doctor tomorrow and terminate it."
She knew he would never agree to such a sin. She used his faith as a shield, urging him to repent and be grateful lest God punish them through the child's health. Abdullah, overwhelmed by fury and confusion, walked out of the house.
The Awakening
As he walked the streets of Riyadh, a cold clarity began to settle over him.
Was his entire life a series of accidents?
The story of the "elastic hymen" just before the wedding—and then the "accidental" lack of blood on the wedding night.
The "accidental" failure of birth control pills for the second child.
The "accidental" injury that led to the secret removal of the contraceptive for the third.
Abdullah realized that "coincidence" does not repeat itself with such surgical precision. This was a pattern. This was a strategy. He began to suspect that Rowan wasn't acting alone; someone was whispering in her ear, teaching her how to manipulate his emotions and his faith.
The Architect of Deceit
His mind immediately went to Nihaya—Rowan's older sister.
Nihaya, the secretary to a lawyer, whose face wore the mask of experience and cunning. Her daily exposure to legal loopholes and human tragedy had gifted her a twisted mastery over life's complexities. She knew the law, and more importantly, she knew how to circumvent it.
But how could he be sure? Even now, a small part of him hoped he was wrong, that he wasn't being played.
Then, it hit him. The distance between Jordan and Riyadh meant their long, tactical conversations couldn't happen over expensive international calls. The evidence—the scripts for the "accidents," the advice on how to handle him—must be somewhere else.
WhatsApp. That was the key. Somewhere in those free, encrypted messages lay the answer to the question that was tearing him apart: Who taught Rowan to deceive him? Who told her to remove the contraceptive in secret and replace it with pills she could easily discard, ensuring that the control over their future remained solely in her hands?