As I stood at the vanity, smoothing lotion over my skin, a nagging feeling crept over me. "Something's off with Laila," I murmured, my gaze drifting to my husband, who sat on the bed, lost in his thoughts. "She's been acting really weird today, all of a sudden."

He looked up, his expression calm as he pulled the duvet around himself. "Yeah, I noticed that too," he replied, settling into the bed. "Maybe she just had a rough day. Don't overthink it."I turned back to the mirror, but my reflection offered no answers.

My thoughts spiraled, questions forming in the corners of my mind. I'd never felt this unsettled before, a strange heaviness pressing on my chest.

"Can you talk to Laila?" I asked, watching him as he reached for the jug of water on the nightstand.

He glanced at the clock. "Isn't it late, dear? She's probably already asleep. We'll check on her tomorrow," he said, his voice steady as he poured water into the glass.The sound of the water trickling into the glass grated on my nerves, amplifying my unease. It felt like the room was closing in on me, the air thick with unspoken worries.

The night stretched on endlessly, sleep slipping further from my grasp as my mind raced with unease. Just as I began to drift off, a piercing cry shattered the silence. "Helpppp!" The sound echoed through the darkness, jolting me awake with a start.

My heart pounded as I scrambled out of bed, the urgency of the voice spurring me into action. Flinging the door open, I realized the cry had come from Laila's room. Fear tightened its grip on me as I rushed down the hallway, each step echoing in the stillness of the morning. The shadows seemed to close in, and a sense of dread settled deep in my chest, urging me to reach her as quickly as possible.

I flung her door open, only to find Laila thrashing in her sleep, murmuring as if she were trapped in a nightmare. I rushed to her side, gently shaking her awake. "What''s the matter?" I asked, my voice edged with concern as her eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Just a bad dream," she mumbled, trying to brush me off and turn away. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. My heart ached with worry as I sat down beside her, gently stroking her hair. "Laila, darling," I said softly, my voice laced with concern.

"I've noticed you've been off lately. Is everything alright, dear? You know you can always talk to me." I searched her eyes, desperate to connect, to understand what was troubling her. The unease in my chest grew stronger, urging me to reach out to my daughter, to bridge the gap that had suddenly formed between us.

"There's nothing to worry about, Mum I'll join you for breakfast soon" she acted as if nothing had happened, but I could see the truth in her eyes. I knew she was hiding something from me, and the thought kept nagging at me.

 As I walked out of the room, I didn't want to pressure her. I just hoped she might come forward and open up.

I freshened up and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. I could hear faint footsteps coming down the stairs—I knew it was Laila, especially when she started shouting at Sara. It's easy to tell when there's sisterly rivalry going on.

My happiness was short-lived when I saw Laila come down wearing an oversized blue long-sleeve top—the one she hated, a gift from her grandmother. She was adamant about never wearing that shade of blue.

Everything started to click in my mind, and my heart urged me to talk to her. Watching her fidget with her phone and ignore breakfast, I finally snapped, shouting, "Stop fidgeting and eat!" Her expression fell instantly, and she pushed her plate aside before walking out.

I heard the rustling of her coat as she opened the door, the cold breeze sweeping in. "Mum, I've got an urgent class! I'm off, love you, bye," she said, her words hurried and trembling. I could sense a deep emotion troubling her inside.

My mom instincts kept ringing in, I knew my daughter was suffering, but something is stopping her from sharing... 

Everything began silent, as the door bell rang,