Chapter 20 · Chapter 20

The corridor did not soften beneath the morning light. Footsteps echoed against the polished limestone, measured and deliberate, announcing an arrival before a silhouette even turned the archway. It was not another elder from the council, but Faisal, Saad’s cousin, his crisp white thobe immaculate, his expression set with the sharp satisfaction of a man who believed he held the key to an unbarred gate.

Behind him walked one of the estate drivers, eyes fixed strictly on the marble tiles, keeping a careful three paces of deference. The driver carried no folder, only the nervous, unblinking posture of someone summoned to bear witness against those whose bread he ate.

I remained where I was in the quiet shadow of the inner suite, the folds of my dark abaya falling straight to the floor, my tarha pinned secure. I did not step into their line of sight, nor did I retreat. Every stone of this house carried a voice, and a woman who shrank behind closed doors invited the very verdict they sought to construct.

"The morning brings more than papers, Saad," Faisal said, stopping just short of the threshold where Saad’s uncle still stood.