The Marid pact

The Twins

The months that followed the bargain passed in a haze of anticipation and anxiety. Mariam often found herself waking in the early hours, her hands resting on her growing belly, wondering if the strange events of that night had been a dream. But each morning, as she felt the gentle flutter of life within her, she was reminded that her wish—and her promise—were all too real.

Sameer became more attentive than ever, fussing over Mariam and the house, making sure everything was perfect for the arrival of their child. Yet, beneath his careful smiles, there was a shadow in his eyes—a silent dread that grew as Mariam’s due date approached. He tried not to think about the bargain, but it lingered in the corners of his mind, a silent spectre haunting every moment of joy.

When the day finally arrived, the house was filled with a nervous energy. The midwife bustled in and out of the bedroom, her face set in a mask of calm professionalism. Sameer waited outside, pacing the corridor, his heart pounding with every muffled cry from within. The hours stretched on, each one heavier than the last.

Then, at last, a cry pierced the silence—a high, clear note that seemed to echo through every room. Sameer rushed inside, his breath catching as he saw Mariam cradling a tiny, wriggling bundle in her arms. Tears streamed down her face, but this time they were tears of joy. The midwife smiled and beckoned Sameer closer.

“It’s a girl,” she said softly. “A beautiful, healthy girl.”

Sameer knelt beside Mariam, his hands trembling as he touched the baby’s soft cheek. The child stared up at him with wide, curious eyes, her tiny fingers curling around his thumb. For a moment, all his fears melted away, replaced by a love so fierce it took his breath away.

But then the midwife spoke again, her voice tinged with surprise. “Wait—there’s another.”

Mariam gasped as another wave of pain gripped her. Within minutes, a second child was born—another girl, just as perfect as her sister. The midwife cleaned and wrapped the twins, placing one in each of Mariam’s arms. The girls were identical in every way, from the delicate curve of their noses to the soft, downy hair on their heads.

Sameer and Mariam stared at their daughters in awe, unable to believe their luck. They named the first girl Aliyah, and the second Sarah. The names felt right, as if they had been waiting for these girls all their lives.

For the next few days, the house was filled with laughter and light. Friends and relatives came to visit, marvelling at the twins and showering the family with blessings. Mariam and Sameer took turns holding their daughters, whispering promises of love and protection.

But as the celebrations faded and the house grew quiet again, Mariam found herself lying awake at night, watching her daughters sleep. Sometimes, she thought she saw a shadow flicker across the wall, or heard a whisper just beyond the edge of hearing. She would pull the girls closer, her heart pounding with a fear she could not name.

Sameer, too, was changed. He watched the twins with a mixture of adoration and dread, wondering which of them the marid would claim. He tried to push the thought from his mind, but it returned again and again, a silent reminder of the price they would one day have to pay.

Yet, for now, the twins were safe. Their laughter filled the house, their tiny hands reaching for the world with innocent wonder. And in those moments, Mariam and Sameer allowed themselves to hope that perhaps, somehow, they could find a way to keep their family whole.