Heart Asunder (Dear Dahlia Season 2)

Chapter 17

CONTENT WARNING: mention of Islamophobia and death

It was a sunny day when news of Inej's kidnapping reached Wadi and Rahim. They found Dahlia sitting at the table. Since Saida's abrupt departure, Dahlia had taken to reading history, drawing and writing less and less as the years went on.

"Dahlia...we have something to tell you." Wadi sat down. Dahlia blinked at them. "We're going tomorrow, right? To see Inej?" she asked hopefully.

There was a short, terrible silence. Then, Rahim spoke, "Inej was kidnapped by slavers."

Dahlia's eyes widened. No. Inej and her had been friends, becoming close after Saida had left. "But...we were going to see her perform," Dahlia said, then felt stupid for saying it.
"I know," her father said gently, laying a hand on Dahlia's. "We were thinking...about...well, you."
"Me? I'm safe."

Wadi shook her head, confusing the fourteen-year-old. "Inej believes in the Saints. But you are Muslim."

Dahlia paused. She looked between Wadi and Rahim, mind whirring. It would be worse for her if she was kidnapped. No one said it aloud, but she knew what Ravkans, Fjerdans and the Kerch thought of Muslim women. The tantalizing idea that Muslim women were modest because they were forced to be, but would dress immodestly for their eyes only, showing off their skin in ways they wouldn't dare around their families. A secret fantasy that a coloniser would free them from this horrid faith by encouraging them to dress differently and engage in sexual behaviours. The idea that they were hiding that sexual nature, but could be encouraged to bring it out, if only they would shed themselves of Islam entirely.

Dahlia wanted to simultaneously snort and shudder at the thought. As if Prophet Muhammad (Sallā -llāhu ʿalayhī wa-sallam) hadn't turned his cousin's face away from the beautiful woman he'd been staring at.

The fourteen-year-old watched as Rahim glanced at Wadi. Wadi then said, "we're going to limit your movements from now on."
"What?" Dahlia exclaimed. Rahim tried to squeeze her hand, but the teenager pulled it back and stood up from her chair. "Why would you-"
"We're doing it because we don't know where the slavers will hit next," Rahim tried to reason.
"No. No-I can't even meet with my friends?" Dahlia asked, eyes wide.
"Not right now. They can come here if they want, but you can't go out."
She scoffed in disbelief, staring at her parents. "Can I at least go in the garden?"
"Yes-"
"Thank Allah-"
"Under supervision."
"WHAT?" She exclaimed. Wadi pursed her lips. "You can't be serious!"
"We are being serious," Wadi replied, clearly trying to curb her frustration, "because if you are taken, we may never find you again."

Dahlia blinked away her tears.
"Don't be mistaken," Wadi added. "We would search the earth to find you. We would travel to Kenst Hjerte, dive into Ketterdam, and roam the permafrost. But we might never find you again in our lifetimes."

The tears came again. Rahim stepped forward to comfort her but Dahlia pulled back. Through her tears, she saw Rahim's and Wadi's faces fall. The fourteen-year-old knew why they'd put this in place: for her protection. But some part of her also knew that they were protecting her because her mind was different to theirs, and that that reason was utterly useless.

Dahlia ran upstairs. Her parents didn't follow her. She was glad for it. The girl glanced at her sister's room and felt the overwhelming urge to go into it and destroy everything. But she didn't, instead heading straight for her room. She slammed the door and screamed into her pillow. Then, she grabbed her prayer mat and hijab from her wardrobe.

In the bathroom, the water ran. Dahlia performed wudu. She said "bismillah" three times whilst washing her hands, then washed her face and forearms and then dried them. After that, she wiped her hair and wet the top of her ears, then washed her feet and ankles. She rolled down her shirt and trousers, then put on her hijab and kneeled down on her prayer mat. After saying the rakahs, she said, "please bring Inej back. Make sure she's safe." She glanced over at the drafted letters she'd planned to send Saida three years ago, then opted not to ask Allah to have her sister write back. Only Saida herself could do that.