Women's Revenge

Chapter 6, Episode 5

Scene 1

Samar slowly pulled her car over to the side of the road at the Nile Corniche, where the cold breeze lightly burned her cheeks, carrying the scent of the water along with the city air flowing between the tall buildings. The lights of the Corniche and the scattered lamps along the road reflected on the dark Nile waters in fractured golden lines, dancing with every small wave, as if silently telling the city’s story.

Samar reached out and turned off the radio, and silence took over, broken only by the soft sound of water lapping against the riverbank. A moment of stillness enveloped her with a strange sense of peace, as if the world had paused to allow her to reflect.

She gazed at the dark surface of the Nile, her voice barely audible as she spoke to herself:

Samar: "The Nile at night looks beautiful…

But the water is dark, frightening…

Like the hearts of so many people."

Yet, it wasn’t just the darkness that was intimidating. Her eyes wandered along the Corniche until she spotted Darin and Aya sitting on the edge of the Nile wall. Darin leaned gently toward Aya, as if trying to offer her a small comfort amidst the sea of sorrow. Aya, in turn, wept silently, tears streaming down her cheeks as if transferring the pain she had carried in her heart for years.

Samar froze in place, absorbing the scene in every detail, as though trying to read between the words and tears, between silence and grief, between the past and the present. She felt that every gesture, every faint smile, every droplet of tear was telling a story, and that this scene carried the weight of life itself in a single moment.

Samar took a deep breath, feeling her heart beating slower, as if the Nile and everything around it were whispering: "Some continue to live despite the pain… some find their way to the light even after long darkness."

She raised her hand to touch the cool car window, the chill mingling with a warmth that slowly crept into her from watching the two girls. The world around her remained noisy, streets crowded with people and cars, but at the Corniche, along a few meters, time seemed to stand still, and the pain hid between the waves, tears, and fractured lights.

Samar smiled softly, quietly, as if telling herself silently: "Even amid the ruin, there is beauty… and there is a life worth continuing

Scene Two

Samar opens the car door and steps out, walking calmly toward Aya and Darin, who are sitting on the wall by the Nile.

Dareen and Aya sat on a weathered wooden bench at the edge of the street, wrapped in a heavy silence broken only by the occasional roar of passing cars. The night was growing colder, and shadows stretched across the pavement as if hiding something that waited to emerge from the darkness.

As they exchanged uneasy glances, a tall young woman approached. She wore a dark athletic jacket, and a faint, unreadable gleam flickered in her eyes. A slight smile curved her lips as she spoke in a calm, confident voice. — Hi.

Dareen lifted her head hesitantly, offering a quiet reply, while Aya merely cast a wary glance. The stranger stepped closer until she stood before them, leaning in slightly. — I’ve been watching you from my car for a while. It’s obvious something’s troubling you… If you’d like to talk, maybe I can help.

Dareen and Aya exchanged a quick, anxious look, as though the girl’s words carried both a hidden promise and an unspoken threat. At last, Dareen found the courage to ask: — And who are you?

The young woman answered with steady confidence, her eyes never leaving theirs. — Just like you… a stranger here. But maybe we can help each other. I’m Samar. And you are?

Dareen hesitated for a heartbeat before extending her hand. Samar’s grip was unexpectedly warm. — I’m Dareen… and this is my friend Aya.

Samar turned toward Aya, giving her a brief, knowing smile before shaking her hand as well. Then she said, her tone friendly yet quietly insistent: — Why don’t we continue this conversation somewhere more private? Come with me to my place.

Dareen glanced at Aya, as if granting silent permission, and finally whispered: — Let’s go.

The two of them rose to their feet, following Samar as she strode confidently toward a black car parked at the far end of the street. Their footsteps echoed in sync with the hush of the night, while the city lights receded behind them, leaving the air thick with questions that had no answers.

Scene Three

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Bara’a was walking along a side street alive with the city’s restless noise, her eyes wandering as if searching for something lost—or fleeing a thought too heavy to bear. Her steps faltered, weaving left and right without direction, while the glow of traffic lights and passing cars swirled around her in dissonant bursts of color. Her face looked pale, her mind adrift in a storm of worry and distraction.

On the other side of the road, Samar drove with a tense urgency, her eyes catching sight of Bara’a from a distance. She pressed the horn repeatedly, trying to warn the girl, but Bara’a remained lost in her own world, deaf to everything but the chaos of her thoughts.

The car drew closer. Samar eased her speed, fighting to avoid contact, but Bara’a suddenly stepped into the lane. The side mirror struck her arm with a sharp thud, and her body recoiled before collapsing to the ground. A muffled gasp rose from someone nearby.

Dareen, seated in the front, jerked around in alarm, her voice sharp with panic.

— Are you just going to leave her? She fell!

Samar shot back quickly, her eyes locked on the road ahead.

— Of course not. We’re going back.

Dareen’s breathing quickened as Samar swung the car toward a space wide enough to reverse. She stopped at a short distance, glancing into the side mirror. There lay Bara’a, motionless on the asphalt, as a small crowd of bystanders began to gather, their voices blending with startled exclamations.

Without hesitation, Samar shifted into reverse. The car rolled backward against the flow of traffic. Horns blared violently, a storm of metallic noise rising around them. Drivers gestured angrily, shouting through the chaos, but Samar kept her focus fixed on Bara’a’s fallen figure.

She shut the windows tight, sealing herself inside the cocoon of the car, and continued reversing with measured precision until she reached the spot where Bara’a lay. At last, she braked hard and pushed open the door. Samar stepped into the street, Dareen following with tense, hurried movements, while Aya remained in the back seat, staring wide-eyed through the glass at the confusion outside.

The streetlights flickered across the faces of the onlookers, voices merging into a restless din, while Bara’a lay silent on the pavement—still, as if suspended between fading consciousness and an endless, spinning haze.