Ahmed sat in front of her, his posture stiff, his eyes darting nervously around the room. His

hands rubbed together in a continuous, anxious rhythm. Beside him sat Amna, pale and

weak, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The air in the room felt heavy, laden with

unspoken words and unresolved tension.

"So?" Sheharzaad tried to initiate conversation. She did her best to feign ignorance and act

as if Ahmed didn't propose to her.

Ahmed opened his mouth, closed it again, and then looked at Amna as ...