The past few days had passed in a strange haze for Layla. The house had always been quiet, but now it felt utterly silent as if even her own voice had disappeared. She barely spoke a word. Her father didn’t either. There was a heaviness in the air, a tension that neither of them acknowledged out loud.

Warda had come by yesterday. As expected, she had scolded her first, asking why Layla hadn’t refused the proposal from Zeeshan in the first place. But the moment she saw tears brimming in Layla’s brown eyes, her tone softened. She pulled her into a tight embrace, offering comfort and strength Layla had never possessed.