10. 'Ashra

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"I don't want to go out, Auntie," Amani replied from her bed, her voice muffled by the blankets fallen over her ears. That morning, her aunt had come in to wake her up and open the balcony doors so the cool Mediterranean wind and bright sun could brighten the gloomy mood of the room. Since then, Amani had remained between her sheets and watched the paper decorations in the street dance with each gust.

Her aunt sighed. "You cannot stay here forever, my love."

It had only been two days.

"I understand that you are hurt by Yasmeen's actions, but do not allow her to have this power over you. Why don't you go visit Reema? She's been calling to check on you all morning."

"Reema should come here."

Her tone peaked as if she hadn't considered it. "Wow, what an idea. I will call her right now and invite her over for dinner."

Once she heard the bedroom door close, Amani groaned and buried herself beneath the blankets. Normally, she wouldn't be sulking so dramatically at something like this, but it wasn't only Yasmeen's childish gossip she was thinking about. It was all the people who believed it to be true. She'd believed it wouldn't matter, would hardly affect her, because Amani was used to slander—western high schools prepared her for it—but she didn't realize how different this was.

She'd only realized yesterday afternoon when an older woman and her daughter had come to visit them. Both Amani and Auntie found it unusual considering neither of the guests knew Amani on a level personal enough to come check on her.

But they hadn't even been there to check on her.

Amani only learned what their visit was about when she brought out the tea her aunt had prepared. "I appreciate the concern, haja, but I am going to have to decline." Auntie hadn't seemed happy in her tone but her control would hardly let it show.

"Are you sure, Arwa? Mohamed and I only have the girl's best interests in mind. Once the news reaches further, nobody will want to marry her. It is best she is married before then and my son is willing to do so for the sake of Allah."

Amani's eyes grew large as she rose from placing the tea on the table, staring in shock at the woman. "They were rumors."

Her daughter responded. "Rumors are dangerous."

"No, blindness is," she answered, trying to tame her rising frustration in front of her aunt. "Because if people would only open their eyes and ears to the truth instead of the first piece of gossip they hear, rumors would only be rumors. Rumors are not news."

"Why, that is no way to speak to me while I am in your home asking for your hand to my son," the older lady spoke.

Auntie finally spoke, her words the opposite of what Amani had hoped for. "She is correct, Amani. Please apologize to our guests."

She turned to her aunt in exasperation. "But Auntie-."

"Apologize."

"I apologize," she fumed. There was no truth to it.

The older lady nodded. "It is alright, my dear."

"I apologize as well, haja-" her aunt began and Amani would have never expected the blows of betrayal to come so quickly after one another. She set her eyes on the ground and stayed silent.

Auntie continued. "-for my niece's tone. Her words were not wrong. As for this proposal, we will not accept it. You see, Amani does not need someone who is only willing to marry her for reasons that are no more than bogus spread by immature children in the streets. My niece is smart, guided, and wise beyond her years, alhamdullilah, and we do not need charity from any families. You are a friend to my husband and I so I will not see the insult in your words and visit today, but Amani has kindly made tea."

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