She stopped asking what year it was.
She stopped counting the exact number of days.
Sometimes she worried that her father had moved away.
Sometimes she imagined he had become ill.
And sometimes she feared that he had stopped looking for her.
Those thoughts were so painful that she began avoiding them.
When Imran asked whether she missed home, she often replied, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He respected her silence.
Their relationship developed into an unusual form of companionship.
They ate together.
They shared stories.
They argued occasionally over supplies and routines.
When Layan was frightened by a distant sound, Imran reassured her.
When he became exhausted after a long journey to obtain provisions, she helped care for him.
Neither believed they were living an ordinary life.
But they had created a fragile arrangement that allowed them to get through each day.
There were moments when Layan almost convinced herself she could remain there forever.
