Point out if you see any mistakes inshaAllah. ❤

I hope you enjoy the first chapter :)

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I put in the last pin of my hijab and glanced at myself in the mirror, smiling slightly as the sunlight shown in from my window.

Turning around back to my night stand, I took my phone and keys and put them in my purse, smiling at the twins who were sleeping peacefully on my bed. I leant over placing soft kisses onto both of their foreheads and inhaling their heavenly scent as I walked downstairs.

(These kids look like they're 2 but whatever, they're supposed to be 3-4 years old. Lol)

"Good morning." I called out as I sat on the seat beside Justin.

"Morning." He answered with a smile as my dad and Jessica, his wife, entered the room from the kitchen.

"Good morning, habibti." He said as he kissed my forehead before sitting down.

Jessica was my step mother. My dad had married her a year after getting divorced from my mum and they've been married for about three years. Justin was my step brother, and an amazing one at that. He was like the sibling I never had and more.

While his mum disliked me with a passion for absolutely no reason, Justin loved me just as much.

"Are the babies sleeping?" He asked me and I nodded.

At the age of 22, I had two babies. Well, they were three and a half now, but they were still babies in my eyes and probably always will be.

Hamza was twenty minutes older than his twin sister, Hafsa.

They were my whole life. I've had a rough life in the past, but Alhamdulillah with my two little gifts from Allah (swt) I would feel blessed and thank Him every single day.

Right at that moment, after I answered my dad, a shrill cry was heard from upstairs and I shut my eyes, waiting for the other one which was heard five seconds later.

Jessica sat up to go get them, but Justin stopped her.

I guess I was lucky in the sense that Jessica really liked my children. Alhamdulillah, the hate that she had for me didn't effect her kind treatment of Hamza and Hafsa at all and so as I went to work everyday, I really could trust her to look after them with the upmost care.

"I want to get them." Justin said in excitement as he got off his seat.

"Relax, speedy Gonzales." I muttered with a laugh.

He smirked. "Ah, so you admit I'm speedy, huh?" He said cockily. "Does that mean you're forfeiting our race tomorrow after work?" He asked.

Yes. I had made a bet with Justin that we would race each other tomorrow after work. Yes. I knew I would probably lose. But again, yes. I was stubborn and I couldn't say no when he had challenged me.

"No way." I scoffed. "I'm still game." I said and he chuckled as the babies crying got louder.

I smiled at his back as he jumped over the stair-barrier gate that we had put up and jogged up the stairs quickly.

Justin was a sports teacher at a primary school. He was two years older than me and treated me as if I were his biological little sister and Alhamdulillah, treated the kids as if they were his biological nephew and niece with absolute love and he adored them both so much, especially his princess Hafsa.

Alhamdulillah, even though my only problem was with Jessica, I really couldn't complain as everything else in my life was such a blessing.

Taking a bite out of the toast in my hand, I got up. "I best be off before they see me and don't let me leave." I said.

My dad nodded and I kissed his cheek before leaving.

"Allah hafiz." I heard him call right as I shut the door. I hopped into my car and drove to work speedily.

I arrived at the restaurant just in time and took my apron off the passenger seat, walking inside and quickly signing my name down as I tied it around my waist.

I guess I didn't have to really work, but I enjoyed my job thoroughly and I liked being the one to support my kids fully without having to depend on my dad's income.

The restaurant was pretty high end and so the wage was very well and the people who I worked with were absolutely amazing too, so that was another plus. Every single one of them were a good friend or at the least a good acquaintance.

"Good morning, Bella." I greeted my manager who looked a little more than just pissed off.

"It's not a good morning at all, Sumayya." She muttered as she began jotting down notes on her notepad, her hand moving so furiously that she could've easily torn the paper in half.

"What's wrong?" I asked her as I picked up a tea towel and began wiping the bench space beside her.

"Night staff complained that we don't clean up as we should after clocking off and boss issued a warning in my name to all of us." She muttered angrily and I widened my eyes.

"What?" I scoffed. "We always clean up properly." I muttered and she nodded in agreement. "Late night staff complains about them not cleaning up properly."

"Exactly." Henry muttered as he walked up to us and leaned on the counter on the outside of the kitchen.

Henry was apart of late night staff which was probably the hardest of all three shifts.

The restaurant was open 24/7 and shifts were separated into three groups.

Breakfast staff, which was my group that worked 8am to 4pm, night staff which worked 4pm to 12am and late night staff which worked 12am to 8am.

"They never even wash the dishes." He muttered as he untied his apron and signed off.

"Table thirteen is waiting for a jug of orange juice and table twenty five on another fruit platter." He told me as he handed me the notepad in his hand.

I nodded and he saluted both Bella and I before leaving with a yawn.

"Go on, then. Get to work." Bella said and I smiled at her as she jokingly warned me not to slack-off.

"Sure thing, manager." I said and she shook her head with a small smile as I went into the kitchen and asked for a jug of orange juice and a fruit platter.

The day went on and at 1pm I called out to Kyle.

"Tables eight, ten, thirteen and twenty two, Kyle." I said and he nodded, casting a glance at each of my tables as I went to the locker room to pray dhuhr.

Taking my sajjada out of my locker, I laid it on the floor and began to pray. After finishing, I raised my hands and made dua. My dua's always consisted of praying for the health, happiness, livelihood and Iman of my babies. I always prayed that Allah would guide them throughout their lives and not test me with their absence.

I finished my dua and folded my sajjada, standing up and getting ready to put it into my locker as I slipped into my shoes before I heard it.

His voice.

A voice that I hadn't heard in four years. A voice that sent chills down my spine and made the hairs on my body raise.

I would recognise my name from his mouth even if he had said it from kilometres away.

"Sumayya."

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