I never had it easy.
From watching my parents succumb to the horrors of a car accident to craving the healing presence of the man I love-my entire life-I had navigated through this messy maze I call my life with a shard of hope in my heart.
Every da...
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Being stuck in a humid elevator, roughly thirty feet above the ground was definitely not how Mubaraka had intended her shopping trip fantasies to play out. The chances of being stranded in a four-walled metal cabin had to have been pretty slim.
Why couldn't the odds have been in my favor? Just this once?
Mubaraka held out her niqab a little, aiming to ventilate her heated face. Not even twenty minutes in, and she was already dreaming about lounging in her bedroom, the air conditioner turned on to the lowest degree with nothing but her iPad and a tub of Ben and Jerry's.
She fanned her niqab just enough so that the tall, brooding, handsome young man sitting directly opposite her could catch no glimpse of her face.
Not that he wanted to, anyway.
Judging by how he had his legs sprawled before him, his head positioned to lean against the wall, and his eyes closed, he seemed to be the picture of disinterest. He'd opened the first two buttons of his button-down shirt and had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Mubaraka caught him counting something off on his fingers, and as her gaze traveled to his lips moving soundlessly, she realized he was engaged in Tasbeeh.
She stared at him until she registered the thought, and snapped her gaze away.
Mubaraka slid her phone out of her bag, aiming to check if her SIM had caught any signals yet. Unfortunately, it hadn't, and she could presume that neither had his phone. She should've switched her carrier when Wahdan had asked her to.
The two of them had tried every possible way to find an escape from this prison. Mubaraka had found a nail file in her purse and had tried to pry the doors open.
The nail file had snapped into two.
He had tapped on the emergency call box and had been informed the mechanics were working on the issue, and it would take no longer than ten minutes.
It had been twenty.
Mubaraka nudged his leg with her shoe, and his eyes shot open.
"Maybe we should try the hatch again? We could find a way out," Mubaraka whispered.
He shook his head, leaning back into the wall. "It won't work."
"It could! You never know!" Mubaraka protested.
"The escape hatches are more often than not bolted from the outside," he said in a low whisper.
"Not always. We never know if the hatches of the elevators in this specific mall are bolted from the outside or the inside."
"You're welcome to try," he shrugged.
Mubaraka frowned at him. She stood up then, gathering the folds of her abaya around her. She slid into her low-heeled shoes for the additional height and glared at him as he eyed her with amusement, his gaze provoking a challenge.
