Raha's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the hospital room's sterile brightness. Her head spun, and memories remained elusive.
"Mom...Dad..." she whispered, seeking comfort.
Her parents, Amal and Hassan, exchanged worried glances. "We're here, Raha. You're safe."
Raha tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her head.
"Easy, dear," Amal said, gently pressing her back onto the pillow. "You need to rest."
Hassan's expression turned somber. "The doctor says you'll need rehabilitation to regain your strength and memories."
Raha's mind raced. What happened to her? Why couldn't she remember?
As the rehabilitation process began, Raha struggled to recall her past. Fragments teased her mind: a blurred face, a gentle voice, and the scent of oud.
"Mom, what's my life like?" Raha asked, searching for answers.
Amal's smile seemed forced. "We'll get through this together, dear. Focus on recovering."
Raha sensed her parents' evasiveness, but couldn't quite grasp why.
Later, during physical therapy, Raha's gaze drifted to a photograph on her nightstand. A stranger's face stared back, with piercing brown eyes and a warm smile.
Who is he?
Raha's heart skipped a beat as a faint connection stirred within her.
---