Danish froze as he opened the nightstand drawer. Several razor blades were still neatly packed inside, but one of them had dried blood spattered across it. Danish's suspicion was right—Amora had hurt herself.
“Don’t bring that up again! What woman would willingly accept her husband taking another wife? You’re still too young to understand! You’re selfish, Amora! You want me to go back to your dad just because you want to live happily, but have you ever thought about my happiness?”
“Mom ...”
“That’s enough. I’m sleepy. We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”
Selfish. Danish smiled bitterly. The woman called her daughter selfish without realizing that she was the selfish one. Wasn’t it only natural for a child to want both parents to live together?
When he was little and still living in an orphanage, Danish had once longed for the same thing. Yes, before a married couple came to take him away and told him that Danish was their child. In that instant, Danish’s desire turned a hundred and eighty degrees. He would rather live alone than return to the people who had once abandoned him.
The bedroom door opened, and Amora appeared with her face wet from crying. When she saw Danish, she hurriedly wiped the clear tears from her face with her palms, pretending to be strong in front of him. Believe him, Danish understood exactly how the girl felt.
“Which part of your body are you planning to cut? Maybe I can help.” Danish toyed with a razor blade in his hand.
“My mom is sleeping in the room next door. For now, you can stay at a hotel. Come back after she leaves.” Amora took a deep breath. “Don’t touch my things. Put them back where they were.”
“Harming yourself won’t solve your problems. The wound in your heart won’t heal, and now you’ve added physical wounds you made yourself. How funny.” Danish took all the razor blades from the nightstand drawer and moved them to the trash can.
“Danish!”
“Those things shouldn’t be kept in this room.”
“Don’t interfere in my affairs.”
“You want both your parents to get back together. That’s your life’s goal, right? Then why do you want to die before you achieve it?”
“Don’t act like you know everything.”
Danish pulled Amora toward him and gripped her shoulders tightly. “Look at me. Even though death has often come for me, I always try to stay alive, even when I have no purpose in life.”
The girl looked up, her weary eyes gazing at Danish in despair. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Yes, I’ve only just met you. But unfortunately, you’re too naive. Like an open book, you’re easy to read.”
“Danish ...”
“You’re hurt. You’re alone. What you need is a friend, not something sharp.” Danish cupped Amora’s cheeks in both hands. “We can’t talk too much here. Your mom might suspect I’m here. How about we go outside for some fresh air?”
“I don’t know.” Amora shook her head hesitantly.
“I’m willing to listen to everything that’s weighing on you. Don’t keep your sadness bottled up all by yourself. Okay?”
“Go. I’m staying here.”
“And play with a razor blade again? Come on, just this once, trust me. I promise you’ll feel better after letting your feelings out. Let’s go! We’re leaving now.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
“Danish—”
“Trust me!”
“But where are we going?”
“Somewhere. Don’t worry, I guarantee your safety. You’ll make it home in one piece.”
Amora didn’t argue again. She let Danish pull her out of the apartment, gripping his arm tightly.
Trust me! The two words echoed in Amora’s ears. She didn’t know why, but the words felt so reassuring. As if that stranger had promised her something that would heal the wounds in her heart.