It was sunny in Denver.

The birds chirped to the song of nature, the trees smiled at the flowers, the latter blooming to beauty.

The girl knew it was her last day here.

Hustle and bustle was something she was quite used to. She was always imposed to pressurising situations since her childhood.

Verona Pizzeria was crowded at this hour, customers rushing in and out as the aroma of baked cheese and mixed fresh vegetables wafted in the air of the kitchen.

Lamia sighed as she smeared the pizza sauce on the rolled out dough.

"Last day, huh?" she heard a voice address her before she heard the sound of knife sliding against wood repeatedly.

It was Shreya; one of the few coworkers Lamia could bear at the place.

"Hmm," she hummed in response, a tight-lipped smile plastered on her face as she turned to her before grabbing the sliced vegetables in the bowl.

"Excited about your new family?"

This was the question that did it all. If Lamia would get a dollar for everytime someone mentioned her soon-to-be step-family, she would have left her job on a happy note instead, considering the decent amount it paid her all along.

She let out a dry chuckle. "I hope you already know my answer," she said, placing the pan in the oven. "I'm dreading it."

Shreya nodded in understanding. "I feel you. Parents' second marriages may take a heavy toll on us in the very beginning, but by time you learn to accept the reality, I guess."

Lamia wanted to scoff at her words. The reality of what? Another parent to beat her to pulp too?

Whenever anyone would advise her, she would feel her throat constricting at their naivety of her reality. She never told anyone of what she had to bear all along, and she was planning to keep it that way for a very long time.

"Yeah," she said, her voice distant. "I guess."

Lamia caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror to notice there was some flour in her hair. She untied it from its bun and went to the corner to dust it off, soon remembering she had curled her strands earlier today, a special day.

Today was her eighteenth birthday.

The pizza parlour had slowly cleared, the place quietening down as the last of the customers took their orders and left, leaving the place to be tidied up.

Lamia wiped the table with the cloth before heading to the kitchen to grab her bag and leave the place once and for all.

As soon as she made sure she wasn't leaving anything essential, she made her way to the door and was just about to push it open when her wrist was grabbed from the back and she gasped.

It was one of those days.

Lamia would feel her skin tickle with fright as she knew what was about to come.

The girl made a run for the door to escape the torture, the pain, but her wrist was grabbed from the back and she was forcefully turned around.

Marwah glared menacingly at her. "I'm not done yet, Lamia."

And then it came. In reality, it happened in a split second, but the little girl saw it all happen step-by-step.

She saw her first clench and unclench her hand before it collided with her cheek painfully and-

"Lamia!"

She jolted back to reality when a hand on her shoulder shook her gently, her widened eyes now staring at the person ahead of her.

It was Ahmed; he was a Bengali-American and the only Muslim employee at this pizza place other than her.

"God, I've been calling your name for so long," he sighed. "the manager is calling you back inside for a moment."

Lamia held his hand which was still on her shoulder and dropped it in the most respectful way.

"Oh, yeah," he voiced out sheepishly. "you weren't responding," his hand scratched the back of his neck. "I guess you zoned out or something."

She looked around the area, deciding to change the topic. "Right," she released a breath. "where is Miss Julia?"

The boy pointed towards the staff room, leaving Lamia perplexed over why the manager was waiting for her rather there.

Not thinking too much of it, she walked through the door only to see the rest of her coworkers sitting by the round table which was moved to the center, a jumbo-sized pizza box in the middle.

"Surprise!"

They all jumped, and so did Lamia when she got startled, adrenaline pumping through her veins at the scene before her.

On the pizza, she noticed the happy birthday written above her name all with ranch dressing, sliced jalapeños sprinkled all over for the prominent flavour of spice.

She was still standing there, absorbing what was happening right in front of her.

And then, she smiled.

"What's this?" she gestured to the entire room, the grin never leaving her face.

"Oh come on," Lee pushed her gently towards the table. "I didn't expect you to be so dumb." he let out a laugh. Everyone else's followed soon after.

Lamia sat down and was handed a large slice, the rest of her coworkers in a circle around the table devouring theirs'.

"It's your birthday and last day here, you really thought we wouldn't do something?" let out Shreya as she tossed a dropped slice of jalapeño in her mouth.

Lamia looked at her sheepishly. "I don't know... didn't expect anything for birthdays in general," she looked down. "to never have hope, I guess?"

Lamia looked back up again and smiled sincerely at everyone. "Thank you... really," she blinked back the water threatening to line her eyes. "I'm really grateful for all this."

"Aww," Shreya hugged her tight. "this is the least we could do. It's nothing."

"But it means a lot," she croaked.

Her coworkers had even baked another mini pizza for her to take home, the same words scrawled on the top with ranch dressing.

She spent her sweet time with them till the sun set, and she realised she had to get back home as soon as it turned dark.

"Ahmed," she tapped his shoulder. "can you please walk me home?"

Lamia always reached home before the moon would be sighted, and today was the very first time she was running late, and walking alone in the night was out of question.

"Yeah, sure," he nodded before getting and bidding goodbye to his coworkers, Lamia doing the same before heading to the door.

Once they were out, the warm breeze slapped their cheeks and she tucked any stray strands of her bangs behind her ears, making sure they were out of her face.

"You won't join again anytime soon?" Ahmed voiced in the quiet night to kill the silence.

"I don't know..." she trailed off. "I'm moving to the other part of the city. Working here was easy as I didn't have to pay for transportation, just had to walk, but I'll be searching for other jobs later probably."

Ahmed nodded. "So you won't be doing senior year here then?"

She shook her head. "I wish, but currently everything is against my wishes."

Ahmed was quiet for a while, kicking a pebble in his way.

Once they reached her apartment, she turned around to him for the final time, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Thank you for dropping me."

He pushed his curls back, shaking his head. "You're welcome."

She took a few steps ahead before turning to him again.

"Goodbye, Ahmed," she voiced quietly, staring at his dim form in the night.

"Goodbye, Lamia," he replied back, a sad smile playing on his lips as he realised this was the last time he would probably see her.

Lamia wasn't one he hung out with a lot at school, but she was in his friend group for three years, which was enough for it to feel a little empty when she wouldn't be there anymore.

She waved at him before turning and entering the gate.

Taking the stairs, she reached her door on the third floor and thrust her key in the keyhole, twisting twice.

Once she was inside, she ploddingly went and placed her mini pizza box on the kitchen counter.

"You're home."

In the midst of pulling her hair open and letting it loose, she stopped and turned to see her mother standing in the doorway.

Hands on her hair tie, she undid her bun and walked in her direction, steps cautious.

"Mama."

Marwah's jaw ticked, black eyes glancing at her daughter before turning her face away, a forced breath escaping her lips.

There was one thing Lamia hated from the very beginning, and that was the resemblance her and her mother had in physical appearance.

Both of them had the same long eyelashes, the same oval face shape, and the same plump lips.

There were still some differences she was thankful for.

Lamia's eyes were a deep, stormy grey, unlike her mother's pitch black irises. Marwah's hair was of the same shade as her eyes, while her daughter's was a soft coffee brown. The lady had sharp cheekbones and a chiselled jaw, while Lamia had gentler features.

"Resigned from work?"

Her question caught the young girl off-guard, pulling her back to the situation ahead of her.

"Yes, mama," she said meekly, watching her mother entering the kitchen to go straight to the fridge.

She noticed Marwah's tone was slightly off, and she hoped it wasn't because of losing another case in court.

She knew exactly what happened at home when her mother lost.

"Everyone baked a pizza for me today."

She was giving hints to her mother, to remind her that today was her birthday and even a simple wish would remove her heart from the liquid of uneasiness and pain it was dipped in.

"Nice," she replied curtly, not even turning around to acknowledge her.

Lamia didn't know that her mother already knew about her birthday. The reason she sounded ticked off was only because of one reason.

No more child support installments.

Her daughter was an adult by law, and now her father wouldn't be paying any money to Marwah for their daughter, which she had mostly used for herself.

Lamia walked towards the door, leaning on its frame before turning to her mother, entire body prepared to bolt in case anything goes against her wishes.

"Mama... won't you wish me a happy birthday today?"

Her voice was expectant, eyebrows raising as she waited for her reaction. Her hesitance resurfaced.

Marwah's hands stopped their motion, placing back the tomatoes she had grabbed and turned to her after slamming the fridge shut.

Her blood heat up, eyes livid as she gritted her teeth for being reminded of the one thing that she had tried pushing at the back of her mind.

"And what am I supposed to do, bake you a fucking cake?"

Her voice boomed and Lamia stepped back, fear clinging to her heart as she held the door frame tighter, body shaking at what was to come next.

"N-No mama I-I-"

"Then leave," she said in a flat tone before turning around and opening the fridge again, bending down.

Lamia didn't know why she stood rooted to her spot. Maybe preparing to taking a run for safety was of no use, her legs unable to respond.

The next moment, her eyes were lined with tears as she blinked harder to stop any from escaping without her consent.

Why does it hurt so much? She thought with an ache in her heart. Shouldn't I be used to this by now?

Lamia sniffed softly, and that had grabbed her mother's attention.

"I said go," Marwah voiced in a tone of warning, and Lamia took it.

She ran back to her room, slamming the door shut and locking it before leaning on it and sliding down.

Her face was in her hands as she full-on sobbed, shivering as chills coursed through her body from head-to-toe.

Her knees were to her chest as she tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, hiccuping as her cheeks turned crimson.

"It h-hurts," she whispered to herself. "It hurts so m-much."

Moving out was something that crossed her mind everyday, but in reality it didn't seem possible. She didn't have that much money to pay for an education, a place to live, food and much more.

And informing the authorities was something out of question, considering the threats her mother gave her all along if she ever even thought about it.

Grey eyes landed on her form in the full-length mirror opposite to her. She got up and walked towards her reflection with shaky steps.

Her eyes scanned her face.

Mascara streaks stained her cheeks, her eyes bloodshot. Pink lipstick was slightly smudged due to the constant wiping of her face.

Makeup was something Lamia was really good at. Instead of using it to solely enhance her features, she covered up her marks of abuse pretty well, still making it seem like it was her natural face devoid of makeup.

Marwah always made sure she wouldn't throw a punch or anything of that sort to her face, considering it would be a dead giveaway of what she did to her daughter.

But the slap marks left after a few hours.

Making her way to the bathroom, she washed off the makeup and dabbed her cheeks, her sobs dying down as she placed her hands on either side of the sink and stared at her makeup-free face.

Her mother hadn't laid a hand on her for quite a long time, and she could see the marks fading, almost invisible.

Though the marks on her heart would stay forever.

She stared into the windows of her soul and tilted her head.

Whose grey eyes had she inherited?

It was only a year back when Lamia started deeply wondering again who her father was, otherwise she had grown accustomed to the fact that he was probably someone just like her mother, and hoped to never have him cross her mind again. Marwah never mentioned anything about him and always dodged the topic whenever Lamia bugged her about it.

She pushed her hand in her pocket and fetched her wallet, opening it and pulling the photo she found a year back while cleaning her room.

Her eyes scanned the photo as she felt a lump form in her throat.

There was a man looking down at a baby in a crib. The baby's hand was wrapped around his pinky finger as he gazed down at the little bundle with a loving smile on his face.

It was obvious that she was the baby, and the man was in fact her father.

She couldn't tell what he looked like. He was facing away from the camera, and she could only notice that he had no beard and his eyelashes were long.

She flipped the photo and scanned the words as she gulped.

Baba will always love you, my beautiful angel. I will come back to meet you again. I promise.

She blinked back her tears again, her hand holding the photo shaking.

Lamia wished to know her father's name or even have a glance at his full face. Meeting him was something she wouldn't even fathom. That seemed too far from her reach.

She tucked the photo back and remembered a promise her mother made a long time ago.

Lamia had bugged her to the very brink about her father, and her mother had told her that she would tell her where he was when she would turn eighteen, just to shut her up for the next couple of years.

Making sure a few hours had passed, she changed and made her way out of her room to see her mother in the living room sipping her tea.

Lamia stood by the door way again for safety reasons.

"Mama?"

She turned to her daughter, removing her lips from the rim of her mug as a signal for her to continue.

Lamia knew after a few hours her mother's anger dissipated. She still had a nonchalant expression on her face.

"You promised..." she said in a low voice before blurting out the words.

"W-Where is baba?"

She questioned timidly, staring at her mother with hopeful eyes to at least pity her and tell her.

"Lamia I'm not—"

"It's my only question," she interrupted, scared for her life. "I won't bug you about him again. Just tell me, please."

The fact that she wouldn't question her about her ex-husband again made her finally give in and get this topic over with.

Marwah placed her teacup on the table, uttering the words which shook her daughter's world.

"He's dead."

Lamia didn't know if she first felt a certain crack in her heart, or a tear trailed down her cheek. Maybe both happened at the same time.

"What?" she whispered in a soft, broken voice, wiping her cheek. "How?"

Marwah didn't meet her daughter's gaze.

"When did this happen?" Lamia felt her voice rising slowly. "When did my baba die?"

"I don't want to talk about thi–"

"How?" she questioned again rhetorically.

"Lamia," Marwah said sternly. "go to your room–"

"But mama what's his na–"

"Lamia," she said again, this time more strictly. "I'm not talking about this ever again."

And that was it. She ended the conversation.

Lamia turned back to her room with a heavy heart, closing the door and locking it.

She sat on her bed and pulled her knees to her chest, another tear trickling down her cheek as she stared straight ahead at the night sky through the window.

"Baba," she whispered softly. "I didn't know you left me for good."

She placed her cheek on her knee and closed her eyes, letting the remaining tears fall.

"I miss you, baba," she murmured before she tilted her head up. "I hope you're okay up there."

She cried as she laid down. She pleaded her Lord to keep her father safe and in His care, and for her to join him up there soon when the time was right.

It was midnight when the stars twinkled, the moon emerged from between the puffy clouds and illuminated the dark sky.

It was midnight when her eyelids grew heavy and her stormy grey irises covered themselves to sleep.

It was midnight when she realised that promises were always meant to be broken, no matter what.

★ ★ ★

hey there peeps!

how was the chapter? did you enjoy it? what was your favourite part?

our main leads will meet soon! if there's anything you don't understand from any chapter then feel free to comment.

please pray for my results. i'll keep writing this in every chapter because prayers count so much :) i love you all so much and thank you so much for supporting me <3

till then, take care and may Allah bless you.

- sana