I find myself in the kitchen, where I'm gazing up at the rare sight of bright stars shining over the garden through the window, wishing I could see them from outside. But I stored my own inside here. 

"They are asleep," I breathe behind her.

She nods.

When my warm arms circle her waist, when my breath washes over her, she leans against me and sigh, feeling comfortable – extremely comfortable.

"I should go check on Lila and Layan. Layan always craves water at night. I didn't bring them one," 

She turn around, but I keeps my arms around her waist. She looks truly concerned. It honestly makes me feel bad for her - yet strangely pleased by the open reactions she no longer hides from me.

I try to give her a reassuring smile. "They'll be okay, Wahaj. I will give them water and head upstairs."

"Wait don't go now," She spoke.

"Why?" I asked concerned at her fearful voice.

"Your mother has promised to kill me, and now that I am living in the same house as her, I am afraid she will make it look like an accident. Wait here and I will leave with you,"

I laughs, "What are you talking about? my mother has been so nice to you lately,"

"Yes, of course, she has, so when she kills me no one will think it is her," She mutters worriedly as she went on to clutch to my shirt. 

"I have your back,." I smile at her. She draws in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I am counting on it."

She holds my gaze. She watches as my finger moves to her face and runs it down her cheek, making her tingle.

"And you, Ibrahim? Do you believe I'll have your back? Do you believe I'll not run away"

"We'll take it slow this time," I reassured her, "because we went so fast the first time. In the blink of an eye, we had it all...and then we had nothing." 

"What if it happens again?" She anxiously asks.

"I will always meet you halfway," I reassured her, "and despite all the chaos, Inshallah, we can find a way to make it work if it occurs," 

I placed a kiss on her forehead as she closes her eyes, "Inshallah,"

For the next few days, we spend lazy mornings and laid-back afternoons. Wahaj has finished most of her credits, and she is going to graduate this summer while Layan and Lila are starting grade two.

I have noticed that Layan loves photography and drawing even though she seemed to possess the qualities of an analytical genius, while Lila is in love with the entire atmosphere of fishing. Every morning I take her out on the boat, and when I let her steer, she swears she's going to grow up to be a boat captain and a fisher.

Sometimes it's not just a physical resemblance with those two, but the hobbies and how deep we go for what we are passionate for that remind me of myself at that age, and I wonder if they were always like me.

I may never have a complete picture of what my daughters were like before age four other than through photos, videos, and memories Wahaj and everyone else that watched my daughters grow up can share with me.

But I know what they are like now, and I swear to myself that regardless of what the future may have in store, they'll always know both parents love them. Wahaj and I will guide them, but Lila's and Layan's future will always be theirs to decide – even if Lila does want to grow up to be a fisher. 

"Good morning," Layan spoke and I answered back, "Good morning," before I asked, "Where is Lila? I want to tell her that I bought her that fishing boat and placed her name on it." I look excitedly toward Wahaj.

"You're spoiling your daughter." Wahaj remarks.

It sends a warm current through me when she refers to Lila as "your daughter," as opposed to the way she used to refer to her just a couple of years ago: "my daughter." It's as if she's finally, entirely accepted in her heart that Layan and Lila are as much mine as they are hers. In that instant, as in so many others, I'm dying to tell her just how much I love her. Not only because she looks so good, but also because with those simple words, she's showing me her heart. But I don't want to send her running away so I retain myself. 

I simply shrug, shaking my head. "I don't think I am. I don't think Lila can be spoiled. She's...unspoilable," I grin, "unlike someone I know," I look toward Layan.

Wahaj chuckles. "Unspoilable. I'm pretty sure that's not a word. I hope you don't use words like unspoilable in any of the lectures you give before students, Professor Yilmaz."

She's teasing me. She knows I got my medical license back. She knows I have already received multiple offers from multiple universities, but haven't accept any yet. She knows she can finally start calling me professor again. In the past few months, I catch more and more glimpses of the Wahaj I first met, that young, carefree, trusting young woman I first fell in love with.

I was about to place a kiss on her when I sow Layan coming to the living room. "Did you sleep well ?" Wahaj asked our daughter.

"Lila isn't snoring loudly anymore," Layan beamed. "I slept like a baby; thank you for asking."

"Lila," Wahaj shouted from where she stood in the living room, "Layan, go wake up your sister," Wahaj ordered as she went into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Layan returned, "Mommy," She whispered, the catch in her voice had Wahaj scrambling for Lila's touch as she ran to their room.

I looked confusingly toward Layan, "What ?"

"Lila is cold, she is super cold, and she doesn't answer when I speak." She seemed dismissive as she went toward the bowl of cereal, and I ran after Wahaj to the room.

"Lila," A small sob escaped Wahaj's mouth.

I couldn't do anything but hold myself from crashing as I felt Lila's pulse. There was no pulse. Her heart stopped, the surgery was indeed dangerous. It seemed her small body couldn't handle it anymore. 

"you are the bravest, most thoughtful and loving girl I had ever known," Wahaj uttered as she tried to stop the tears from flowing. "Please wake up so I can tell you this, wake up so I can give you my heart instead of yours."

"Wahaj," I held myself as I wrapped my arms around her, "She is gone." Fighting my own tears as I brushed hers away. Her eyes met mine briefly over my shoulder, and I knew – Wahaj was cracking.

"in lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un," She mummers and I mummer behind her.

When a person's child dies, Allah, the Most High asks His angels,

'Have you taken the life of the child of My slave?' They reply in the affirmative. Allah then asks them, 'Have you taken the fruit of his heart?' They respond in the affirmative.

Thereupon He asks, 'What has My slave said?' The Angels say, 'He praised you and said 'Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'oon (To Allah we belong and to Him we will return)' At that Allah replies, 'Build a home for my slave in Jannah and call it 'Bayt-ul-Hamd' (Home of Praise)'. [Tirmidhi]

***********

I wanted to rage, make calls, and ruin lives as Wahaj remained by Lila's cold body for three freaking hours after Lila passed. That was how long it took for the coroner to send someone.

However, I had to keep that bottled up. For wife and my family that grieved and cried for the girl, we had lost. I had to remain stable; be the rock Wahaj needed to hang onto as she drowned in her grief.

For those hours, I watched as she became quieter, grew still and slipped into an almost cationic state. The tears stopped after the first two, which should've been my first clue that I had to get her out of there. However, I wasn't me anymore, I didn't know how to function anymore. 

When they finally arrived to take her, Wahaj awakened from her trance and clung to Lila as her tears renewed. It took several minutes of coaxing between my mother and me to get her to let Lila go.

Layan was still in the living room, not aware of anything going on as Ahmad stayed with her. I didn't allow her to watch as they'd taken Lila.

I wanted Layan to think that just for a couple more hours that Lila was her twin sister that fell asleep and didn't snore that one night. I wasn't sure I could endure watching it, either as I went to our room.

The next day came as silenced filled the whole living room. Layan slept between us that day as she said that she couldn't sleep that night without hearing snores.

"Ibrahim," Wahaj whispered when she woke up if she even slept, as I sat in the room at the corner. My eyes, glistening with tears.

"I can't," I gasped. "I can't be weak; I need to be strong for you. for Layan."

"You will. For Lila, you will be strong. Inshallah"

Allah gives the hardest battles to his strongest. That is all I thought as I looked into her puffy eyes. She was soo strong. 

"You'll stay with me, right? You're not leaving." I ask. She cradled my face, searching for my glistening dark eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her, trying not to forget the smell of Lila. My eyes fell closed, her face there, bright and young and full of life. I wanted to remember that look, her smile, and I had to fight to remain numb. 

Friends and family came and went for the next twenty-four hours after the Islamic burial. The next twenty-four hours. However, I remembered little of their condolences. They all sounded the same.

***********

I was ashamed to say that I had to be given something to sleep after that night as I sow how Wahaj took care of Layan when she started crying the other nights that followed. 

When I woke the following morning for Fajer, I wondered why I felt so cold still. I had no more brilliant smiles from my Lila to look forward to every day, no more "Lets go fishing," and no more "I love you mangums," 

Where is the million year you promised to love me, Lila?

I wondered as I found it tough to wake up, but there was someone to make the days easier. I felt Layan beside my side. Even in her sleep, she tried to soothe me. She slept beside me, peacefully without the weight of what happened on her sweet face.

We'd get through our loss, though I knew it wouldn't be easy. And we'd do it together. Our daughter is with the Rahman, hopefully, she is placed beside Ibrahim (AS). 

Samura bin Jundub reports: One morning, the Prophet Muhammed (SAW) said 'Last night, two persons came to me (in a dream) and woke me up and said to me 'Proceed!' I set out with them...' He (SAW) mentioned things and places that he had seen, and then he said, 'We proceeded and we reached a garden of deep green dense vegetation, having all sorts of spring colours. In the midst of the garden there was a very tall man and I could hardly see his head because of his great height, and around him there were children in such a large number as I have never seen. 

I said to my companions, 'Who is this?' They replied 'Proceed! Proceed!...' Then among the things that the two companions (angels) said to him (SAW) was: 'The tall man whom you saw in the garden is Ibrahim (AS) and the children around him are those children who die with Al-Fitrah (the Islamic Faith).' [Bukhari]

From the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar face. Wahaj. She stood in the darkness on her mat crying as she made duaa. 

"Alhamdulillah, for every memory I got with you, Lila."

"Alhamdulillah, for every day I woke up to see her face and touch her."

"Ya Allah, I wanted to give her the world, but she chooses heaven with you. May Lila and I meet again" She tried to not cry any louder, "baby girl, May we meet in heaven inshallah."

Her voice moved around us, sweet and angelic, her whispers seemed to cover every corner in the room. How beautiful is to have that. She always seemed stronger than I ever was to handle anything, now I know her secret. 

Allah was with her.