He was Ziad. Without any introduction, he came to ask for my hand in marriage. My mother welcomed him warmly and invited him to a breakfast table filled with delicious dishes. I later learned that she had known about his visit all along—as if she had prepared everything just to be rid of my presence, as though I were a mark of shame.
After breakfast, Ziad said, "I want to speak with you alone." We went out to the balcony and sat facing each other. Inside, I kept asking myself: how could I marry him when I hadn't yet settled matters with the underworld? He took my hand and told me he loved me, that he had returned to settle in his homeland for my sake, that he would open his clinic here, that he owned a house, and that I would be the happiest woman in the world. I interrupted him: "I'll give you my answer tomorrow." Then I went back to my room, my thoughts consumed by one question: why hadn't Malik interrupted us this time, like he always did? Was he truly just a servant of Malika, sent to take that so-called power she spoke of?
I told myself: never mind, I'll go to tonight's meeting and understand everything.
I sat at my desk and began sketching a little boy, perhaps six or seven years old. He was strikingly fair and extraordinarily handsome, like an angel. He wore a crown set with a red gem. I jolted awake at the sound of my mother's voice telling me that Ziad's mother and sister had come to visit. I went out and sat with them, yet despite being among them, I felt like a stranger, as though I didn't belong. My mind was entirely consumed by what would happen that night—not fear of Malika, but fear of the truth about Malik. Yes, he was a jinn, but he had stolen my mind and my heart. Not a moment passed without him crossing my thoughts. What terrified me most was discovering that he was evil—that he had only wanted to exploit me for my power.
Time passed, and the clock struck midnight. Ziad's mother and sister said their goodbyes and left. I went to my room, took out a long red dress, and laid it on my bed. Then I stepped into the shower. Beneath the hot water, I closed my eyes, hoping to feel Malik's embrace or catch the scent of his perfume. A single touch from him would have been enough to make me follow him anywhere. Every cell in my body called out his name. I needed only to hear a whisper of his warm, masculine voice. But he was gone—he had left after binding me to him, leaving me madly in love, then disappearing.
I stepped out of the shower, shattered. I put on my red dress, styled my hair, and that night, I was breathtaking. I remembered my friend's words: on your moonlit nights, you become a moon walking among us—radiant, luminous, impossibly beautiful. I applied perfume, wore my black coat, and slipped out of the house at half past two in the morning, while my entire family slept.
I walked down the street under the moonlight, my eyes scanning left and right. Yes, I was still searching for Malik, telling myself that at any moment he might appear, take me away, and we would vanish together. But my hope faded with every step I took toward the place, replaced by a growing sense of disappointment.
At last, I arrived at the appointed spot. I took off my shoes and stepped onto the soft, cold sand. Suddenly, I saw dozens of red candles burning, and pale women dressed in red caftans approaching me. Then I heard Malika's voice: "At last, the appointed day has come, Rana."
I stood before her in a scene that made my skin crawl—blood covered the sand, and hundreds of slaughtered white doves lay scattered on the ground. She said, "Let's begin, Rana. It's simple. You will take the golden dagger and cut your left hand. Then, while the blade is soaked in your blood, you will slaughter the gazelle. This way, you will free yourself from everything that binds you to the underworld, and your third eye will be sealed."
I asked, "May I ask you something?"
"Ask," she said.
"Where is Malik?"
She replied, "Malik wanted your power. When I got to you before him, negotiated with you, and freed you from the prison, he realized he had lost the war and withdrew in silence."
Her words struck my heart like lightning. How could that mad, overwhelming love have been nothing more than a desire to seize my power?
"I just want to know," I said, "what is this power that all of you are trying to take from me?"
She laughed mockingly. "Oh, Rana… if you truly knew your power, you wouldn't be standing here before me now."
Then she screamed, her voice shaking the very air: "Move!"
I trembled with fear. I picked up the golden dagger, studded with red rubies, and cut my hand. Blood poured out.
"Now," she ordered, "slaughter the gazelle."
As I looked into the gazelle's eyes, I whispered, what have you done to deserve death at my hands? Then I saw someone sitting behind bars.
Malika screamed at the top of her lungs: "Do it before dawn breaks!"
I closed my eyes, slit its throat… and lost consciousness.
I awoke to the waves of the sea brushing against my feet. I looked at my hand—there was no wound. At that moment, a question tore through me: was what happened last night real, or just a dream? Am I losing my mind… or am I seeing things?
I returned home, collapsed onto my bed, and slept until the afternoon. I woke to my mother's voice: "Rana, enough sleeping and laziness. It's your engagement day—get up and get ready."
I rose like a body without a soul. Everyone who saw me asked, "What's wrong with you, Rana?" My gaze was hollow—lifeless. My cousins came in to help me get ready. One of them brought me a red dress, and the moment I saw it, I screamed, "Are you crazy? Get it away from me!"
She replied, surprised, "But you love red. On your engagement day, and you refuse to wear it?"
Another cousin laughed. "It's love—love is what's making her so nervous."
As they applied makeup and adorned my face, I drifted far away, drowning in my thoughts: Who am I? What is this power that was taken from me? Why did Malik pretend to love me only to leave me clinging to him, his true goal my power? And worse—those who paid the price because of me: Hamza and Sarah… and her supposed killer. Why did I see my mother with serpents for hair? Is she one of them? How could an ordinary woman give birth to a jinn in human form?
The thoughts collided violently inside my head, and the girls' chatter only made it worse. I shouted, "I want to be alone!"
They left. And the moment the door closed… she appeared.