“Do you miss him?”
Layan looked toward the mountains.
“Sometimes.”
Her father said nothing.
“He helped me survive,” she continued. “But he also made mistakes.”
Mahmoud nodded.
“Both things can be true.”
She held the owl against her chest.
For years, she had struggled to understand how someone could protect her and still fail to get her the help she needed.
Now she was beginning to accept that gratitude did not require her to ignore what had gone wrong.
She could appreciate the life Imran had helped preserve.
She could also acknowledge the years she had lost.
And she could choose what happened next.
The Choice to Go Home
Before leaving, Mahmoud asked whether Layan wanted to walk closer to the cave entrance.
She turned toward the distant hillside.
The rocks rose sharply above the trees.
Somewhere beneath them lay the chamber where she had spent three years.
She imagined the familiar stone walls.
