If sitting in the detention room had Amani dropping her head, then the sun, eyes, cameras, and questions closing in on her when she zombied out of the custody building had her almost dropping to the ground. Her system's alarm went off, her bruised arm shielding the scorching sun and flashes of camera away from her raw eyes. The questions, and accusations, all blended and penetrated her ears.

Mike's arm guiding her towards a car had the brain-bursting ringing in her head subside, the howls of footsteps, cops, and journalists resurfacing before she slipped into the car.

She twisted to Mike beside her in the back passenger seat, asking about her family. He must know.

When he explained that Mommy and Nadeen were under heavy supervision, and Walid was with them, she asked. "Can i see them?" And quickly, rephrased. "How fast can you get me approval to go see them? I know no one believes me but I need to see my family." The space beneath her was not enough to drop to her knees and although he was her lawyer, she clasped her palms straight and held them anterior to her splotchy and wet face, eyes blinking to dwindle the rawness in them. "Please."

"I am on your side." He reassured. "I can not give you my word but I will try my best to submit the request today, seeing your examinations will be out tomorrow."

Amani slouched into the seat, body protesting at the suddenness. If it was up to her, she'd be moved to her rez but that was not an option; the place lacked security for a potential suspect and she had just lost her father. Amani gulped invincible air, closing her eyes to mentally prepare herself for the worst. It took some minutes in the car as the policemen measured and set the size of the ankle electronic monitor to her ankle.

Out of the confines of the car, Amani stood, taking in the sight of the physically dazzling manse that she had always distasted in her metallic stinking clothes, the gazes of people on her. She slowly threw her head back, agonized. Her feet rooted there, punishing herself for everything she did under the melting sun, surrendering to the mercy of the one above.

Amani was grief-stricken, mutilated, and wished an over-speeding truck would grind her to chunks of flesh but she knew her predicament was a teardrop in an ocean of what Mommy or Nadeen must be feeling, tied to machines and medication while she was scot-free.

After a lifetime, she apathetically dragged her legs into the house brim-filled with women. Her mother's and her room were restrictive areas, preventing any alteration to evidence. In lieu, she zombied past pointing fingers, murmurs, insults but never a word of comfort. No destination in mind, her feet got tired of her steps, gluing her to a spot before a glass door; a room housing Sabrin and a few people she might call friends. At least, sights to console her raw eyes with.

The person behind had other plans than letting Amani unlatch the door, grabbing and yanking her back. The act was nothing flat of raucous, agitating Amani's shaky feet and almost throwing them off balance. The assault didn't stop, a hard-boiled clash of palm against Amani's cheek resonated, sucking around attention before she was bitterly grabbed to face the person.

"You come here don bakida kunya?"

Amani's lack of response towards what she did and her stepmother's assault fueled the raging woman. Atop her wailing lips, Mama sent her palm crashing on Amani's cheek, "You're not even remorseful! Muguwa azzaluma. You are just like your mother! I promise I will—"

The threat cut halfway when a woman pulled Mama away, the warm hands of Sabrin doing the same to Amani. Sabrin pulled Amani into her, shushing her as if she was crying while Mama continued to howl as she was dragged away;

"You will pay for killing him! You must go to prison!"

Amani's dull eyes squinted with her step mother's figure shrinking out of sight, Mama's screams echoing in Amani's ears.

"Hey..." a soft voice accompanied an arm squeeze, Sabrin slowly turning Amani to look at her. Sabrin's wet eyes met Amani's dry, tired ones, the sight making her friend almost stagger. Anyone in their right sense would be crying after being accused of and assaulted for killing their father. Not Amani. She walked past Sabrin.

To hell with the yellow tapes. She bypassed them, slipping into her and her sister's room and stripping off her stinking clothes. The cold shower soothed her skin and her raging soul. The freezing feeling took no jump off her and soothed her eyes close, gently tilting her head back to let the water spray her face.

Gentleness flew out of her, her hands flying to scrub off the dry blood. Images of the blood, the knife, the medics, the hands pulling down the fabric off her, exposing her cleavage, and taking pictures of her came crashing in, seizing the breath off her.

The blood wasn't scrubbing off. It had to scrub off, come off, leave, please. Amani surged her vigor, scratching instead of scrubbing, peeling the skin holding the dry blood until it wasn't just the blood on her hands, but her blood flowing out of stream.

She raged forward, losing the water on her skin and gaping at the bloodied white tub. The sight compelled a yell out of her and a spontaneous jump out of the bathtub to cower into the nearest corner.

No. No. No.

It was too much. The blood was too much. Where was it coming from?

Amani tightened her jaw, locking her teeth and freezing as the blood dripped down her newly inflicted wounds, the bathtub draining in bubbles.

Her vision followed the tub to her ankle-monitored leg, red footprints accompanying her and a new set of blood drops en-circling her. She screamed again, throwing out her arms to stop any harm

It kept coming. They kept coming; the blood.

A while in, she sat under the shower again, hugging her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. The wish to cry so the pain traveled to her physically rather than languishing her mind continued to ravage her.

"Hello..." a call escorted by a knock drew Amani's face from between her knees to the door, her mind recognizing Sabrin's voice. "Do you need anything?"

Yes, her mother. Nadeen. Walid. She needed blood; not the one surrounding her body.

"Amani...are you there?"

"Uhm." Amani managed a weak reply, returning her head to her knees until Sabrin spoke again.

"You've been in there for two hours. I know what Mama said was not right. But please...please just—"

"You don't know anything. Go." Sabrin did not have an inkling what hurting was. She had a loving dad, a loving mother, and a good home, she was perfect and had a perfect life. "Go away!"

That did the trick. The door banged close. See? Nothing about hurting.

Getting up proved to be the hardest move on earth, taking over a minute before she could move from her numbing position. In a snail-like aspect, it took hot minutes before she rose, the water stinging her open wounds but she could only give thanks to it; the pain distracted her.

She wrapped her body in a towel, avoided the mirror, and walked back to the room. To her disappointment, Sabrin sat at the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth.

Not another glance, she opted for drawing the closet door open and picking the first set of gown her fingers brushed. She snuggled her raw skin into it, omitting any underwear and pulling a hijab atop it.

"I don't want to talk about it." Amani beat Sabrin's impending plea, walking past her only for Sabrin to grab her wrist.

"Cry about it then. Please. Don't bottle the fact that it is not alright to be accused of killing your father."

"I am alright about that," She said, landing a stoic gaze on Sabrin who pulled her head back and widened her eyes. This was not Amani, it was the grief. "What i am not alright with is the fact that everyone watched this man terrorize my mother. Terrorize us. And when he got what he deserved, everyone wants to blame the terrorized who would've—"Amani ceased her words of incrimination, dropping her eyes to her heaving and falling chest. It was useless and that made her let out a dry chuckle, choking on her lack of breath.

"I know it's the grief talking," Sabrin rose, putting a palm towards Amani as if telling her to calm down. She earned a signal, walking down the breakneck path and enveloping Amani's upper arms with her palm. "But you don't have to play it out like that. You are allowed to be vulnerable. Cry it out, it'll make things better."

People who had the tiniest idea of things were the loudest to boast about it; talking, and spitting bullshit like Sabrin was. Amani rose limp eyes to her, tilting her head to the side. Huh. "Things are better," Amani wanted this-just not like this. The reason why she had not ingested the bottle of bleach in the bathroom was her family, she could care less about her father.

Sabrin watched the vague dilemmas flash through Amani's eyes. For a second, the guilt slackened her features, unveiling her vulnerability before her eyes narrowed back in focus, stoicalness overtaking her.

Her mouth had been heavy but the people around her had equally been selfish, pushing her to speak when all she wanted to do was be with her family.

Fleeing the room saturated with Nadeen's scent was her next decision. She could care less if Sabrin followed. Although she did hear the sound of footsteps following her to the living room scattered with colleagues.

Most stayed away once Amani buried her head in the sand pertaining any form of compassion towards her loss and state of stand to allegations coming from family. Her blank visage drove most out. No family came for her, looking for her, or offered a shoulder to cry on.

At the first third of the night, Sabrin crawled closer to Amani, whispering. "I have to go." Her words tumbled out with difficulty, her eyes closing to blank the joyless sight of Amani while pushing her tears back before she reached for her friend's cold hands and assuring her that she was always a quick phone call away.

Amani hummed, internally chuckling. With what phone? Her last memory of her phone was at the gruesome scene.

Sabrin turned a blind eye to the dismissive hand gesture she received and encircled her hands around Amani's shoulder, engulfing her. The act wasn't reciprocated, Amani stared ahead, blankly and breathed heavier at the weight of someone on her.

The soothing words Sabrin offered did little in bringing comfort to Amani. She knew what she was facing and it was no antic.

"Check up on mommy and Nadeen..." Amani plead in a barely visible tone.

With heavy legs, Sabrin stood, nodding at the request and waved her friend off, receiving the same cold shoulder before sticking her phone out once she was out of the house. On the first ring, the headlights of a car across the street flashed toward her, honking.

Sabrin settled into the back seat of the silent car and slowly, the ride to no destination began. The streak of red, white, and yellow lights of the scanty roads cast a shadow over Sabrin's face that rested on the window, the day too hard to digest.

"We should drop by the hospital," Sadiq said.

"It's almost eleven." Hafiz reasoned.

"She wanted us to go," Sabrin affirmed, coiling her head towards the blank sight of Sadiq in the front seat.

The gang on him, Hafiz had no choice but to head to the clinic. "How is she?"

"Not herself."

Sadiq hummed, agreeing with Sabrin.

Hafiz had the most certainty considering he had not had a one-on-one with Amani, "I don't believe them," he tsk-ed, shaking his head, "Katagum could never."

The lack of response from Sabrin and Sadiq other than the glance they gave each other had Hafiz loosing line of focus, stepping on the brakes. "Wha-what are...why are you looking at each other like that?" the journey sustained, "You don't...think...kai! Amani would ne...Sadiq?"

Sadiq gestured at the road, "Don't kill us." Once Hafiz's attention was on the road again, Sabrin scoffed.

"Amani..." She began, closing her eyes. "She's...it's hard...I told myself no so many times but, you didn't see how she was."

"Miserable...that's what she must look like." Hafiz rolled his window down for the clinic tag card.

"Un-remorseful."

"But you—"

"You guys." Sadiq cut off, throwing his head back. He had heard enough of their speculations. He unlatched the door, bearing his way towards Nadeen's room.

Taking a deep breath, Sadiq fisted his hand before knocking and receiving a hesitant, "Yes." A few seconds later. He pushed the door, sticking his head first for an overview before widening the door and heading in with Sabrin and Hafiz.

Nadeen glued to the bed breathed slower, waving at Sadiq who made a stop at Walid on a couch. The kid was curled under a duvet, fast asleep and Sadiq unconsciously nodded. The kid was fine.

To corroborate his conclusion, he placed a palm on Walid's forehead to feel his moderate temperature.

Sadiq lingered a while more, letting Hafiz and Sabrin talk to Nadeen before he dragged a chair and planted himself close to her bed. Over the year and months, he had grown fond of the girl. Amani's loved ones were his-even if Nadeen was the most distant, irate, and reserved of them. He knew beyond those layers lay a broken child shielding herself and looking out for her siblings. But it was not his layers to unravel.

"Who is staying with you?"

"Mommy's sister, Hanne. She went to Mommy's room."

"How's mommy?" Sabrin queried, gaining Nadeen's attention.

Nadeen's neutral aspect fluttered back, unsettling Sabrin's thoughts about Nadeen still not liking her even after two years of being in Amani's life. You couldn't blame her, the kid hated everyone but her family. "She is going to be fine, insha Allah."