"You know, the only reason I show up to these emergency meetings is to get cookies," grumbled Thomas as he walked in through the front doors, top buttons of his shirt undone, tie hanging off his neck, and a navy blue suit jacket slung over his right shoulder. He slipped his shoes off. "If only Ibrahim paid me in food."

"Nice to have you here too, Thomas," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at his remarks. "Why are you so unkempt?"

"Hey, man. If you had to keep reporters off Ibrahim's back every other hour, you'd start looking like a hot mess too," he said, fixing his tie. "Those journalists eat me alive."

As much as Thomas hated to admit it, it was quite obvious how deeply his affections ran for his friend. Within one phone call, Thomas would be at Ibrahim's side fighting against all odds to shield a stressed man from the consequences of the public eye. He didn't care how hard the media pushed against his fortress because Thomas would throw them further.

I was immensely grateful for not only his but all of our friends for their dedication to us. People slandered the Tarkan name through a muck of lies, yet in our friends' eyes the glimmer of truth reflected back, a brilliant light against a dark room.

"Thank you, Thomas."

He paused his steps, arching his brow. "What for?"

"For being there for Ibrahim in ways that I can't be," I smiled sadly.

"Tasneem," he chuckled, bright cerulean eyes twinkling with amusement. "You don't need to thank me for being a friend. That's the literal description of my job, well aside from being the permanent note-taker."

The comforting noise of our friends echoed in the background, their laughter filled the empty, lonely cavities of our large house, weakening the darkness that seemed to hover our family with an inkling of regret. Just knowing that they dropped everything for this meeting warmed me because at that moment I knew the truth that others didn't.

We were never alone, not in spirituality nor in the real world. Allah graciously surrounded Ibrahim and I with a support system that never failed to pull through a mass of scandals. To any ordinary family, it would tear them apart, rip them to shreds, and shatter their existences.

Yet, that wasn't the case here.

"I'm sure you do more than a regular secretary, but that's not the point here. Come on, the others are waiting," I said, leading him into the living room.

Damon and Tanwir immediately rose to greet their friend, Thomas. Doing their weird handshake, I merely watched from the sidelines, reminiscing about a time when we were all young, making our mistakes in high school while dreams seemed like nothing but a galaxy from afar.

Our pathways in life were like constellations, each obstacle leading to another point of intersection until a picture was formed, until our life meant more than just being a dream. Back then, none of us would have believed that we would sit in the same room with each other.

Although Damon, Amira, Thomas, and I shared a high school together, we never thought we'd combine our new friendships together to create something so beautiful that we were left speechless.

Thomas and Damon met Ibrahim in college while Amira introduced me to Kanza from her undergraduate studies. Tanwir, being Amira's older brother, would occasionally follow his sister as she pursued her lifelong dream through medical school, which unintentionally threw him into the center of those close to her.

Who would have ever thought we'd sit here as some of the closest and loyal friends of one of the most prestigious CEOs in America?

Red, velvet-like carpets sat beneath our feet, scarlet curtains draping down the windows like capes of the great Kings and Queens of Britain. The sun poured through dappled light, luminating the soft creases of smiling lips, feathering them with the ghost of joy. Our leathered couches lined against the walls, a flat-screen at the center, and framed calligraphy hanging around the white walls, etching our religion and heritage through the lenses of wood and paint.

Our home. The house that Ibrahim and I shared, the house that we planned to raise a family in, the house that witnessed the nightmares that lurked the halls like the ringing of a broken past.

"So," started Kanza, smiling at me, "do you want to tell me why I'm here instead of watching my dramas?"

"I thought the Korean dramas surpassed you by now," said Amira, slyly.

"Don't act like you don't watch them either, sweetheart," muttered Damon under his breath.

Amira slapped his arm, scoffing. "It was only one time. Don't mock me."

"I wouldn't dare," he remarked, sarcasm dripping off his words. Knowing that mischievous glint in his green eyes, I knew Damon wanted to tease his pregnant wife more.

"Guys," I interrupted, "focus, please."

"Yeah, listen to our supreme leader," grinned Thomas.

"Hey, man. Tasneem is not Kim Jong-un," smirked Damon, continuing his friend's joke.

The two snickered like a couple of high school teenagers laughing when their teacher cursed under their breaths.

Tanwir, being the real adult, merely shook his head in disapproval at the two. "Could you two get any more immature?" he asked, frowning.

Damon threw an arm over his brother-in-law's shoulders, towering him by a couple inches. "Oh, don't act like you don't love me and my jokes."

"Who said I was acting?" he remarked, challenging Damon with his own devious smile.

We're never gonna get through this meeting if they keep getting off-task.

"Hey!" I yelled, clapping my hands to ensure their attention. "This is an emergency meeting, pull yourselves together, men."

"Yes, Mom," groaned Thomas and Damon in unison.

I inhaled a slow breath, letting it out gently. "You two will be the death of me," I mumbled before clearing my throat. "I called you guys here because we have to stop Jared Gavlik, and we have to do it soon."

"That little slime ball, what did he do now?" asked Damon, a deep frown on his lips. He cracked his knuckles for dramatic effect. "Whatever it is, I think a couple punches should straighten his crooked mind."

Amira rolled her eyes at her husband. "Physical violence is not how you derive justice from a powerful businessman!" she exclaimed.

He pouted. "But it's so much fun."

"Damon!"

"Okay, I'm done," he chuckled. "What do you want us to do, Tasneem? It's your call."

I smiled. "Glad to hear that, Damon. I actually have a very special job for you and Tanwir."

The two men looked at me with wide, curious eyes. Those two had a synergy that was equivalent to Thomas and Ibrahim. Tanwir's genius mind could conjure strategies to any problem, any obstacle with only a time constraint to rush his thought process. On the other hand, Damon's charismatic personality welcomed strangers with open arms, inviting them to his embrace of soothing words and frivolous antics.

The pair were a puzzle of perfectly matched pieces, hence why they were perfect for Jared's fall.

"I need you two to advertise a talk show that I'm going to be on."

Tanwir tilted his head, pocketing his hands as a strand of black hair fell over his dark, mysterious eyes. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what talk show are you juggling fire with?" he asked, a hint of amusement ringing his voice.

Kanza nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you do realize that if you let your emotions control you on a talk show presented to the vast majority of America, they're going to eat you alive and peck at all your weaknesses just to see you crack," she warned. "Don't act impulsively."

"You know it's bad when Kanza tells you not to be impulsive," said Amira, concern dripping off her voice.

Thomas's brows furrowed. "How the hell did you even get on a talk show?"

I shifted on my feet, staring at the floor in hopes of hiding the shyness that bubbled within me once I realized that I forgot to tell Thomas. "Well... I was wondering if... uh... if you could maybe land me an interview on a hit talk show?" I asked, so quiet that I doubt he heard me.

"You want me to land you that spot?" he spluttered. "Woman, are you insane? Did you tell Ibrahim?"

I shook my head, not meeting the furious ice caps of his eyes. "Ibrahim is convinced that he can handle everything on his own, but I just can't," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut as if the daggers of heartbreak had stabbed me once more, forcing my bleeding heart to ache even more. "I can't sit back and watch as Americans tear my husband's reputation to shreds over a lie. Bashir got attacked, guys. Students abused him over this. If we wait any longer, one of us might be victim to a larger hate crime."

A tense silence swept the room, burying inhibitions under the carpet like a speck of dust. Within the colored eyes of the room, a darkness loomed, the very same darkness that consumed Ibrahim's nightmares now infiltrated the hardened walls of our hearts, pounding an uncomfortable bell of alarm throughout our minds. Ambivalence reigned.

There was no doubt that Ibrahim would hate himself more for allowing those he cared about to take the bullet of his scandal. He would blame himself for our futile attempts to strike a man of indestructible power like steel to a flame.

Although the maxim of America followed the pursuit of innocent until one was proven guilty, my husband was guilty before he could even defend his honor. He was deemed unfit for his position over a series of lies fueled by a Russian CEO.

The repercussions of such filthy actions by Jared had led to Bashir's crumbling mentality, where he was forced to acknowledged the heart wrenching truth of his parents' death before he could comprehend its weight. Not only did Bashir face the cruelty of rash judgement, but his brother took the spear of guilt for him, took the stab of regret for the youngest Tarkan.

Our lives would never be the same, but we had to adapt, we had to evolve as different people. No longer could Jared dictate our lives with his subtle threats and manipulative maneuvering of crime. We had to fight back against all odds.

"I know I'm asking for a lot," I began as my limbs quivered at the fear of rejection from my friends. "I know this may seem unfair of me, but if any of us were in Ibrahim's position, you know he would do everything in his power to bring justice to those who have been silenced by their perpetrators. So, what do you say?"

Thomas sighed, offering me a small smile that sparkled to his bright azure eyes, glimmering with warmth. "Of course, I'll help. Ibrahim is one of my closest friends and my boss. I can't let my man go through this alone," he said firmly.

Damon cracked a wide grin. "We can't just throw our favorite businessman into a pack of wolves, right? So, just tell us what we need to do to stop the Russian once and for all."

"Damon, he has a name," laughed Amira.

He scoffed. "When he has the courtesy to treat others like human beings, then I'll use his name."

"I think we're missing the point here," I said, gently trying to win back everyone's attention.

They quieted down, eyes replaying their unspoken words about Jared and his cronies. Thomas, Damon, and Tanwir were Ibrahim's brothers in life, their bonds stronger than those made from blood.

As the American public slaughtered their legacies, these men pushed with a greater force against their backlash. Like soldiers, they awaited my command, trusting my judgement more than their owns.

Alhamdulillah (thanks to God), we've surrounded ourselves with such amiable people.

Their love for my husband plus my friends' love for me gave me the strength to set the playing field.

I grinned. "Thomas, you set up an interview date for me on a talk show."

He straightened, mockingly saluting. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Damon and Tanwir, I need you guys to get the word out. Make sure everyone in our local area plus national figures understand the gravity of this interview. People need to know the truth, and our Muslim community need to know that a brother in Islam is being wrongfully accused. Silence won't work anymore."

Damon and Tanwir exchanged guileful glances with each other, gears turning the systematic encore of ideas. Their eyes sparked, a contrast of forest and timber, a light and dark brought to one spectrum of calculation for victory. They knew what they had to do even without my guidance.

"What about us?" asked Amira, gesturing to her and Kanza.

I opened my mouth, but Damon interjected. "Wait!" he said. "She's pregnant, and if she's stressed out too much, it could harm her and the baby."

"Damon," she pouted at her husband, grasping his hand in hers to ease his qualms. "I want to help too. Our baby will be fine."

"Are you sure?" he questioned, not convinced.

Kanza broke her silence, rolling her eyes at his protectiveness. "You new fathers are really something. Amira will be fine. She's pregnant, not disabled," she huffed.

"But-"

"Don't worry, Damon," I smiled. "Amira is going to help me prepare for my interview while Kanza uses her YouTube channel to create a buzz of everything."

Kanza's evergreen eyes widened in disbelief. "You really want to include my channel?" she asked, incredulously. "You realize I don't have a million subscribers or anything, right? I make gaming and vlogging videos."

I laughed. "Trust me, I know, but the gaming population on YouTube is huge. You once vlogged our bake sale, and it went viral. A couple hundred thousand subscribers is more than enough to get the word out."

"She's right," interrupted Thomas, turning to Kanza. His stern, serious posture replaced his carefree exterior. "A hundred thousand is more than enough. Part of ensuring success for this type of project is by utilizing all our resources."

Amira and I lost the hinges of our jaw from hearing Thomas talk like a professional, like a real businessman. He didn't display his usual sophomoric personality. This Thomas spoke like Ibrahim and scrutinized his assists just like him. It was a mirror reflection.

Kanza shrugged. "I can't argue with that logic."

Damon blew a low whistle. "Now I know why Ibrahim kept you as a secretary."

"What's that supposed to mean?" scowled Thomas back to normal. "I'll have you know that I'm much more professional when I work than I am with you. No one likes rigid, business Thomas compared to the hilarious, fun-loving asshole that I am."

"I heard so many contradictions in that," I muttered under my breath.

"What can I say? I am a man of controversy," he smirked. "And that's exactly why I'm perfect for the public eye."

"Thomas, focus," I reminded him.

"Right," he chuckled, pulling out his phone. "I'll make some phone calls now."

Damon nodded. "Tanwir and I will head out now too. Will you girls be okay here?"

"Yeah," I said. "We'll be fine."

The seeds of justice were planted, our roots seeking the nourishment of truth within reason. Nothing could stop determination because when a person effortlessly worked towards their passions and dreams, only rewards would follow. Yes, it would be marred with difficulty, but the end was always the same.

Like Allah said in the Qur'an, with every hardship came ease.