The first rays of dawn filtered through the soft curtains of Naira's room. She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at the twin beds where Zara and Mina lay snuggled beneath their blankets. Their tiny hands clutched their comfort bears, the soft rise and fall of their breathing the only sound in the quiet room.

It had been three days since Ahad had introduced them to his family, and the shock of the meeting was only now beginning to subside. Romaisa's kind smile and Humaira's playful attempts to connect had softened some of Naira's initial fears, but the sense of being an outsider still clung to her like a second skin.

A small voice broke the silence. "Mama?"

Naira turned to see Mina sitting up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. "Good morning, sweetheart," she said softly, crossing the room to sit beside her.

Mina leaned into her mother, her small fingers gripping Naira's sleeve. "Are we staying here today?"

"Yes," Naira reassured her. "We're staying here."

Zara stirred in her bed, her voice muffled by the blanket. "Mama, can we see the garden again?"

Naira hesitated. The vastness of the Khan estate still overwhelmed her, and the thought of wandering its grounds felt daunting. But her daughters had found joy in the garden's colorful flowers and the small fountain that gurgled softly in the center.

"We'll see," she said, brushing Zara's hair back.

By midmorning, Zara and Mina were tugging at her hands, their excitement contagious. Ahad had told her the garden was always open to them, and she finally relented. "Okay, but stay close to me," she said firmly.

The garden was even more beautiful in the light of day. The roses were in full bloom, their vibrant colors stretching across the neatly trimmed hedges. The girls ran ahead, their laughter echoing through the air.

Naira sat on a wooden bench nearby, her hands resting in her lap as she watched Zara and Mina chase each other around the fountain. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe, the warmth of the sun on her skin easing some of the tension she carried.

"Mama, look!" Zara called, holding up a bright yellow flower she had picked.

Before Naira could respond, Ahad appeared from the far side of the garden, a small notebook in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in the other. His shawl was draped over his shoulders, and he looked as if he had been walking through the garden for some time.

"You shouldn't pick the flowers," he said gently, crouching beside Zara. "They look best when they're growing."

Zara pouted, clutching the flower. "But it's so pretty."

Ahad smiled, his voice soft. "It is. But if you leave it on the bush, it will stay pretty for longer. Would you like me to show you how to care for them instead?"

Zara hesitated, then nodded slowly.

Ahad looked at Naira, who was watching him intently. "Is it alright if I show her?"

Naira nodded, her voice quiet. "If she wants to."

Mina, not wanting to be left out, ran to join her sister. Ahad knelt between them, explaining how to gently touch the petals and how flowers needed water and sunlight to grow. The twins listened with rapt attention, their earlier shyness temporarily forgotten.

By the time they returned inside, the girls were chattering about flowers and fountains, their hands covered in smudges of soil. Naira followed them upstairs to help them clean up, but even as she guided them into the bathroom, her mind kept drifting back to Ahad.

He was careful with them, she realized. He always asked for permission, whether it was giving them a toy or teaching them something new. He never assumed, never crossed any boundaries.

"Mama, can we play outside again tomorrow?" Mina asked as Naira wiped her hands.

"Maybe," Naira said, her voice soft.

"Will Uncle Ahad come too?" Zara added, her eyes bright with excitement.

Naira froze for a moment, her chest tightening at the question. She looked down at her daughters, their innocence stark against the backdrop of her fears.

"Maybe," she said again, her voice catching slightly.

That evening, Ahad found Naira in the kitchen, washing the girls' small plates after dinner. She hadn't noticed him enter, and he watched her for a moment before speaking.

"They seemed happy today," he said.

She startled slightly, turning to see him leaning against the doorframe. "They were," she admitted. "The garden was good for them."

"For you too," he added quietly.

Naira didn't respond. She turned back to the sink, her hands scrubbing a plate even though it was already clean.

"You're still not comfortable here," he said after a pause. It wasn't a question.

She set the plate down and wiped her hands, her movements deliberate. "It's not that simple."

"I know," he said, his voice steady. "But this is your home now, Naira. You don't have to look over your shoulder anymore."

Her chest tightened at his words, her throat aching with the effort to keep her emotions in check. "It's hard to believe that," she whispered.

Ahad stepped forward, his movements slow and careful, keeping a respectful distance. "I understand. And I'm not asking you to trust this place or my family overnight. But trust me, Naira. I'll make sure you and the girls are safe, no matter what."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she quickly blinked them away. She wanted to believe him-more than anything, she wanted to believe that safety and kindness weren't fleeting.

Zara's small voice interrupted the moment. "Mama?"

Both Naira and Ahad turned to see the little girl standing in the doorway, clutching her comfort bear. Her wide eyes darted between them before settling on Ahad.

"Uncle Ahad," she said softly. "Will you tell us a story before bed?"

Ahad's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. He glanced at Naira, who nodded after a moment of hesitation.

"If that's what you want," he said, crouching down to her level.

Zara nodded, her grip on her bear tightening. Mina peeked out from behind her sister, her small hands gripping the doorframe.

"Alright then," Ahad said. "Go get your pillows, and I'll meet you upstairs."

The girls squealed in excitement, running back to their room. Naira stood frozen, unsure of what to say.

"They're warming up to you," she said finally.

Ahad gave her a faint smile. "It's a start."

That night, as Ahad sat on the floor of the girls' room, telling them a story about a brave little bear who found a family in an unexpected place, Naira watched from the doorway. For the first time in years, she saw her daughters laugh without hesitation, their faces free of fear.

And for the first time, she felt a flicker of hope-fragile, but real.