forbidden whispers

chapter 1

"Qassem, come and greet your sister."

Qassem, only nine years old, looked at her with anger and disgust, shouting sharply. "She is not my sister. I want my real sister, not this mute child."

He ran to his room, slammed the door, and curled up on his bed, drowning in tears of grief and sorrow over the loss of his beloved sister, who had died in a car accident that he felt responsible for.

Hanan looked at her husband with sorrow, and he responded with a gentle smile as he held the four-year-old child in his arms. He reassured his wife, "Don't worry. He will get used to it gradually. It may take some time, but eventually he will."

Hanan sighed as she joined her husband and their adopted daughter in an embrace, whispering in pain, "I hope it won't take too long."

Hanan took Maasa to her late daughter Mais's room. The room was exquisitely furnished with the finest furniture, from the bed to the curtains, carpets, and a small bookshelf in the corner, all in shades of pink reminiscent of violet flowers. It was truly a luxurious room. When Hanan saw the joy on Maasa's face as she jumped on the bed, the crystal chandelier above lit up, scattering beautiful rainbow colors. Maasa gasped in delight, clapping her hands in happiness.

Hanan approached and hugged her, whispering as silent tears wet her cheeks, "I will make up for all your unhappy days. You will replace the daughter I lost, and I will be the mother you never had. You will restore the joy that life stole from Qassem and bring back the smile that his sister's death took away."

Maasa stepped back, looking at the woman embracing her with curiosity, and reached out with her small hand to wipe Hanan's tears. Hanan smiled softly and whispered as she kissed her, "I am certain I will not regret this decision."

In the evening, after Qassem and Maasa had gone to sleep in separate rooms, Hanan sat beside her husband Salem on the bed. She sensed his slight dissatisfaction with her decision, but he had agreed out of respect for her determination. Their relationship was strong and untainted by doubt, yet she wanted to ensure he was not angry.

"Salem, do you think I made a mistake in my decision?"

Salem sighed, pulling her close to rest her head on his chest. His voice was soft and comforting, "I have always trusted you and your judgment. One of the reasons for my success and the prosperity of our work is that I value your opinion. Do not worry. God is with us, and He will compensate us for what we have lost."

Salem had always been her strongest support. Without him, Hanan would never have endured the months following the tragic loss of her daughter Mais. Mais had been the joy of the house and the delight of their souls, and she never imagined that death would take her so soon. But fate had spoken, and the deepest pain had fallen on Qassem, who had witnessed the accident.

Mais had been excited about her new bicycle, while Qassem, her older brother by three years, had distracted her by promising to teach her to ride. On the day of the tragic accident, Mais sneaked out during nap time to ride the bicycle alone. Qassem, seeing her from the window, shouted angrily, "Mais, put the bicycle back immediately!"

Mais, teasing him, stuck out her tongue and ran away with the bicycle. Despite falling twice, she tried to ride again. Qassem, terrified for the bicycle, shouted, "Mais, you fool! I will kill you!"

Mais froze in fear, standing in the middle of the street, unaware of the approaching red car. The driver, unable to stop in time, struck her. Her small body was thrown into the air and landed violently on the curb, blood staining the ground.

Qassem, paralyzed by shock and horror, screamed hysterically, calling for his parents. Mais, still alive, tried to comfort him with her final words, "Don't cry. I will ask Dad to buy me a new one." Shortly after, she took her last breath.

Two months later, Hanan still recalled the tragic memory with anguish. Qassem was no longer the same; he had been traumatized, suffering from horrific nightmares. He would wake screaming for Mais and run outside searching for her. To prevent him from being alone, Hanan would stay close by.

Maasa, on the other hand, had adapted remarkably well. She slept in a strange house for the first time without fear. Hanan carefully checked on her, making sure she was warm and secure before attending to Qassem, who was tossing and turning, sweating heavily, haunted by the familiar nightmare.

Hanan smoothed his hair and recited verses from the Qur’an until his breathing stabilized and he calmed down. Her mind wandered back to the hospital, remembering how Salem had comforted her, saying, "She is a gift from God. Calm yourself and pray for her mercy. You are a faithful woman; trust in God and accept His decree."

Hanan could only weep, leaning against her husband, who patiently let her cry until she calmed. Then she asked in fear and worry, "Where is Qassem?"

"He is fine, thank God. But…" Salem’s hand tightened over hers. "He is suffering from shock and denial. He does not remember what happened. He woke up asking for Mais, demanding to see her. I didn’t know what to tell him, so I told him she was safe and would return soon."

Hanan frowned, confused. She had expected him to remember everything. Salem explained that they needed to consult a psychologist to guide them on how to handle Qassem’s condition.

In the psychologist’s office, they were informed, "He is experiencing dissociative amnesia. His mind is blocking the traumatic events to protect his mental health. For now, he remembers only chasing his sister in the yard, not the accident. You must create a safe environment and avoid discussing the incident in his presence. Engage him in activities with peers who do not know what happened."

Salem interrupted firmly, "We have no one else. He is all we have. We will do everything to protect him."

The doctor nodded understandingly. "That is all for now. I wish you success in your challenging task. Here is my number if you need any guidance."