"I don't think she would ever leave his side," Mama said, touching her forehead that was beginning to pound like a hammer. "Oh!" She suppressed the tears; she would cry later. She would not cry in front of Salam and Amara.
When they had brought Malik, she had only hoped that he was sleeping, that nothing bad had happened to him. But the lifeless state she found him in, the slumped shoulder of her daughter, and the hollow in her eyes reminded her of an event she didn't want to think of, didn't want to let her mind travel to, but it was beyond her power.
This is exactly what she was avoiding. For history to repeat itself, this was why she did not want war. No, Malik cannot go, and she would not lose her daughter as well. She had lost herself all these years, merely putting on a facade.
