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❝Angels don't lie, but you do. If I'm a devil, what are you?❞
When Burq loses his memory in an accident and doesn't remember his own wife anymore, Leyla finds it a chance to escape her beastly husband and pretends to be his friend...
My eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears. You are my home, do you not understand?
— Amy Lowell
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The snow falls silently but the sky is sad. The gray clouds are outlined by the feeble orange rays of the sun. She puts her arms around herself. The cold is biting and the air melancholic. The nature shares her mood.
She watches Mustafa playing in the snow from the bench; he's making small ice balls. Leyla doesn't know what he's trying to do with them, but she's liking the show.
His little round nose has turned cherry red but he refuses to wear a beanie. His dark hair rests on his head messily, just like his father's. But he can catch a cold and Gulalai won't be pleased to find him like this, she thinks.
"Mustafa?" she calls out to him.
He turns to her only briefly before resuming his doings.
"Come here, jaan, wear your beanie."
The child ignores her and excitedly points at the numerous irregularly shaped snowballs. "Look, lily, it's so white."
Leyla cannot help her smile. "Yes, darling. But what are you making out of it?"
"Bricks."
"What for?"
"A snow house."
She chuckles at his reply. "Okay, can you make me one too?"
"I will!" He grins up at her. "But I'll make one for baba first."
Lawangeen.
Her smile disappears as her heart contracts achingly, a dull pain nestling in her bosom. She gets up and walks towards him. He resumes working with the snow as she settles beside him, running her hand over his head.
"I'm sure your baba will love it." She kisses his temple. "He loves snow, and he'll appreciate you making a snow house for him."
"Mama says he can't live with us anymore because he lives in the sky now. But I can't go to him because the sky is taller than me," he talks whilst putting the snowballs over each other. "When I make him a house I'll call him back."
Leyla helps him steady the model, quietly listening to him. How can she learn to be numb to this pain?
"Will he come back to me then, lily?"
She blinks back her tears and forces a smile at him. "Yes, jaan."
She feels like manipulating the innocence of a child— she feels terrible. But she cannot break a blameless heart.
Her memories begin to take her back into time to the days when her brother was still alive— when Mustafa still had his baba.
