Episode 2

Meanwhile, in Brazil...

Yasmin

"Father, why do I have to submit to this? Nadja should be the one getting married, after all, she's the oldest." You said you would allow me to study...

"Be quiet, Yasmin! " my father shouts. " Don't question my orders, just obey!"

"I can't just obey, Daddy! I'm still a young girl, I'm not old enough for marriage. " I almost plead.

"You've already turned 20, you're getting too old to get married and give children to your future husband! And this marriage will bring benefits to me."

"Benefits?! " I get irritated. " I won't be used as a bargaining chip to get you out of the debts you got yourself into with your thoughtless spending!"

At that moment, I feel my father grip my wrist tightly, shaking my body and dragging me to the room where I've been trapped for years, only leaving to do the household chores since my mother passed away.

"No! Don't lock me up, Daddy! Please! " I plead.

"Let her think, Omar! " I hear the voice of my stepmother, Ursula. " She defied you, so she deserves to spend a few hours thinking about her actions and rebellion."

"No, I apologize! Don't leave me here, it's dark! " I cry.

"Well, maybe she'll think twice before challenging her father's authority, dear stepdaughter. " she gives a sadistic smile and pushes me, locking the door.

Soon, the lights in the room go out, and I curl up on the bed, covering my head with a cloth.

I've been afraid of the dark since I was very young, and ever since my mother, who was the first wife, passed away... oh, mommy!

I've suffered so much since my mother's gone, so many nights locked in the darkness, scared, hungry... will this ever end?

《••••》

I eventually fall asleep, and I don't even know how much time has passed, but I feel my body being shaken, and I wake up startled.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. " I hear the voice of Najla, my older sister. " We need to have breakfast, so hurry up and go prepare!"

I sigh, tired, and get up. I look out the window and see that the day has already dawned, so I know that, once again, I fell asleep without dinner.

"We're waiting for breakfast, so don't take too long! I have to go to college, and Dad still needs to drop me off before going to the store."

She leaves, slamming the door to my small room. I sigh again and go to the small desk, where I have a photo of my mother, one of the few memories Ursula didn't take from me.

I look at the photo and close my eyes, remembering her scent, the affection she always gave me, the taste of the Baklava she made for me...

My mother was happy, at least she told me she was, but it took her a long time to get pregnant, so my father married Ursula, as they were still living in our home country at the time, and the culture there allows men to have more than one wife.

Even though she was the first wife, my mother didn't have children, while Ursula got pregnant months after they were married, so she had more privileges and more attention from my father.

When Najla was born, my mother said she was sad because my father was happy with Ursula and her daughter, but he didn't follow what the laws dictated and didn't treat both wives equally.

And when Najla turned 5 years old, my mother got pregnant. And what was supposed to be a cause for joy turned into constant fights because Ursula became jealous and always found reasons for my father to argue with my mother.

But my mother never told me any of this; on the contrary, she always told me that my father was a good man but very busy, which is why he rarely came to our side of the house.

When I was still a child, we moved to Brazil, and here we started living in a two-story house, where my mother and I lived in the back, next to the storehouse, and Ursula and Najla lived upstairs, where there was more sunlight and it wasn't as damp as the part where we lived.

My mother's health deteriorated little by little, day by day, and when my father finally realized her condition, it was already too late.

My mother passed away when I was 8 years old, and I found myself alone because my father never loved me, he never even showed affection towards me.

And I, who have always been so loved and protected by my mother, found myself forced to serve as a housemaid, in exchange for a place to sleep and a plate of food.

We have no family members in Brazil, and when they rarely visit us, I have to pretend to be the beloved daughter, but in reality, I am the rejected one in this house!

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