Umma replied, “Then go and rest. After all, exams are going on. May Allah grant you success.”

Aliya responded, “Ameen, Umma. Truly, the joy of having a mother by the hearth is that one eats until satisfied.”

Those words made Jidda remember her late mother, and tears welled up in her eyes. It had been eleven years since her mother passed away. Whenever her mother was alive, she would always save food for her—even when she wasn’t around. Sometimes, she would even deny herself just to keep some aside for her. But death, the great separator, had taken her away—the death that cuts bonds of love.

Jidda returned to her room, lay down on her small mattress, curled up, and rested her head on a pillow. She closed her eyes, feeling hunger gnawing at her stomach. She wanted to bathe, but hunger wouldn’t let her.

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. It felt as though she had lost her parents just that day. She missed them deeply, in her heart and soul. Everything that had happened after their deaths confused and shocked her, making her wonder whether life was always like this.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when Umma called her. She quickly sat up, wiped her eyes, ensured there were no visible tears, and went out.

“Yes, Umma.”

Umma said, “Here, take this. You locked yourself in the room, and when he comes back, he’ll think something happened to you and start asking questions.”

She pushed toward Jidda a plate containing the leftovers from Aliya’s meal, with just a little extra food added. Jidda took it without complaint and turned to go back into her room when Aliya said mockingly:

“Of course, take it and go—no thanks at all. After all, your maid cooked it specially for you.”

Jidda turned back and said politely, “Thank you, Umma. May Allah reward you with goodness.”

Umma didn’t respond, as expected, so Jidda went into her room.

She ate everything, though it didn’t fully satisfy her hunger, but at least she felt somewhat better. Quietly, she wondered why Umma had changed. Why, when her parents were alive, Umma never showed hatred toward her—but now she did. Why the love Umma and Aliya once showed her had disappeared, as though they had never cared for her at all.

After some time, she brought out the empty plate. The Asr prayer call had begun. She went to bathe, came out, and Umma looked at her and said:

“You just waste water and soap for nothing. No matter how much you bathe, nothing changes—you’re still dark.”

Jidda said nothing and went back into her room.

She changed clothes, gathered the clothes she had worn to school and earlier in the day, washed them, and hung them out. When the weather cooled, she swept her room, then the compound thoroughly. She washed the dishes and finished all the house chores just as the Asr prayer time ended.

She filled the water containers and set them aside. Aliya was in her room with her friend, Amatullahi.

As Jidda was carrying a basin toward the kitchen, she accidentally bumped into Umma, who was coming out. Angrily, Umma raised her hand to slap Jidda—but at that moment, Abba entered, greeting them. He froze, staring at Umma.

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