Mujtaba drove silently, occasionally glancing at the rearview mirror — but never once adjusting it. Noor sat in the back, her eyes locked on the passing roads. They finally pulled up to a massive mansion.
Mujtaba got out first, walked around, and opened the back door."Come," he said softly.
Noor stepped out. He led her inside through the grand entrance into a huge, air-conditioned lobby.
"Sit here," he said, pointing to a velvet couch. "I'll call my mother."
Just as he turned to leave, he hesitated. Looking back, he spoke "Don't take this the wrong way… but it's really hot in here, I mean the weather. If you want, you can remove your niqab. I've already seen your face.."
He was right. Her niqab clung to her face from the humidity. With a quiet sigh, she pulled the niqab off.
Within a few minutes, he returned with his mother beside.
Then, stepping closer, his mother smiled warmly."Masha Allah… she's beautiful.."
Mujtaba's mother looked at Noor kindly, her eyes soft and warm.
"You can stay here, Noor," she said gently. "This house is yours too, if you want it to be."
Noor gave her a small, polite smile. "Thank you so much… but I'll leave tomorrow morning. I've already stayed longer than I should have."
Before Mujtaba's mother could respond, Mujtaba's voice cut in — firm, low, and sharp.
"Where will you go?" he asked, turning towards Noor, eyes narrowing slightly. "Hmm? Back to the same house where they tried to sell you?"
Noor flinched slightly at the words but kept her chin up.
"I'll manage," she whispered.
"No, you won't." Mujtaba stepped closer, his tone leaving no space for argument. "You're not going anywhere. You'll stay here."
Noor looked at him, caught between anger and confusion.
"You can't decide that for me."
Mujtaba's jaw clenched. "I can when it's about your safety. You're not going back to that hellhole, Huda."
It was around sunset when the maid knocked gently on Noor's door.
"Mujtaba sir has called you downstairs for dinner," she said politely.
Noor adjusted her abaya and scarf, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the room. Her heart was pounding. This wasn't her house. She didn't belong here.
But when she reached the dining hall, the scent of freshly prepared food hit her senses, and her eyes met a warm, cozy atmosphere. The chandelier above glowed gently. At the grand dining table sat Mujtaba, his mother, and his father.
Mujtaba glanced up as soon as he saw her. He stood slightly from his chair and motioned.
"Ao, betho," he said calmly, his voice steady but holding authority.
Noor hesitated.
"She's Noor ul Huda," Mujtaba said, looking at his father as she approached. "The girl I told you about."
His father gave Noor a polite smile and nodded respectfully. "We're happy to have you here, beta."
Noor gave a shy "Assalamualaikum" and returned the smile, heart thudding.
Mujtaba pulled out the chair beside him and gestured.
"Here," he said simply.
She sat beside him, hands placed properly in her lap.
Dinner began.
Mujtaba quietly served Noor first, placing a few items on her plate without asking her preference — as if he already knew.
They ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Mujtaba's mother asked a few gentle questions, his father observed respectfully, and Mujtaba… he just kept glancing at Noor every now and then — making sure she was okay. Making sure she felt safe.
He was never being this gentle with anyone in his life not even his friends.
Noor entered the guest room, her steps slow, unsure. As soon as the door closed behind her, she turned to take in the space.
It was beautiful.
Warm lighting. A soft cream-colored bedsheet. Polished wooden furniture. A small reading nook by the window. Everything was perfect — peaceful.
She hesitated before sitting on the edge of the bed, then slowly leaned back and lay down, staring blankly at the ornate ceiling above her.
This wasn't her world. Her own home... home? She lived in a cramped store room that smelled of old boxes and damp clothes. This? This felt like heaven.
"Are all mothers like this?"She thought about Mujtaba's mother — kind eyes, gentle smile, calm voice."Do parents actually love their children this much?"
She had never known that kind of love. Her parents had died when she was young. And whatever came after... wasn't love. It was survival.
"Maybe if my parents were alive… life would've felt like this too."
Suddenly, a soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
Her body shot up instinctively, heart racing. She adjusted her scarf and sat straight, trying to hide the storm behind her eyes.
The door creaked open gently.
It was Mujtaba's mother.
She entered with a warm smile, carrying a small tray with a glass of warm milk and some dates.
"I thought you might not be used to sleeping easily in new places," she said softly, placing the tray on the bedside table. "So I brought this."
Noor stood up immediately, flustered. "JazakAllah... You didn't have to—"
Mujtaba's mother interrupted kindly, waving a hand. "Sit, beta."
Noor sat. Nervously.
Mujtaba's mother sat beside her on the bed.
"You remind me of someone," she finally said. "Strong, quiet… carrying more than anyone should."
Noor looked down, silent.
Mujtaba's mother placed a hand gently over hers.
"You're safe here, Noor. No one will hurt you. And as long as you're in this house... consider me your ammi, okay?"
Noor couldn't say anything. Her throat burned with emotions she didn't have words for. She just nodded... slowly...
For the first time in a very, very long time, someone spoke to her like that. Not as a burden.
But like she mattered.