The breakfast table was abuzz with conversation, shattered by Mrs. Amin's startled gasp. A phone call came, and the room plunged into stunned silence. "Azlan has divorced Maria," she announced, her voice heavy.

Mr. Amin choked on his orange juice, disbelief etched on his face. "What? Why? Has he lost his mind?" The news was unimaginable, especially with Maria nearing her seventh month of pregnancy.

"Maria... aborted the pregnancy," Mrs. Amin revealed, her voice barely a whisper.

The revelation sent shockwaves through the family. The joyous anticipation of a new life had vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence.

Hena, the eldest daughter, finally broke the quiet. "But why would Maria do that?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Mrs. Amin, her temples throbbing, rose and excused herself, leaving a trail of unanswered questions. Mr. Amin, unable to stomach his breakfast, followed suit.

However, not everyone shared the somber mood. Fariba, Mr. Amin's younger sister, couldn't hide her twisted pleasure. Envy, a constant companion, blinded her to the pain it inflicted. She was so used to envy that she forgot that envy destroys faith like fire burns up wood.

Hena, too, harbored a dark secret joy. Her son, she believed, was the rightful heir to her father's empire, and Azlan's child had posed a threat. Greed, a forbidden whisper in her heart, clouded her judgment. She also forgot that our beloved Rasul sallallahu alaihi wa sallam warned all of us against it. Beware of greed, for it was only greed that destroyed those before you. He warned. But, sometimes people are so blinded by greed that they forget everything.

Mr. Amin, seeking answers, entered his bedroom to find Mrs. Amin pacing restlessly, phone glued to her ear. He overheard a snippet of her conversation with Maria's mother, Ruksana.

"He put so many restrictions on her," Ruksana's voice crackled through the phone. "Azlan started thinking all women are like his first wife. My daughter couldn't live with such a misogynist."

The weight of the accusation pressed down on Mr. Amin. He knew his son had a troubled past, but was he truly capable of such prejudice?

"There's no going back," Ruksana concluded, her voice firm. "Azlan has divorced Maria. We must respect their decision."

With a defeated sigh, Mrs. Amin ended the call. The dream of a grandchild, once a vibrant hope, now lay shattered. Mr. Amin reached out, placing a comforting hand on hers. "Did you manage to speak with Azlan?"

Mrs. Amin shook her head, her voice thick with emotion. "No, but I reached out to his secretary, James. He said Azlan will be returning to Bangladesh soon."

"Haya, please," Towsif soothed, his voice a balm against her rising worry. "We'll get through this."

Mrs. Amin shook her head, her eyes clouded with despair. "I don't know, Towsif. I just...don't know. Hena hasn't been home in a month, practically living here. Mim keeps rejecting every good proposal, her plans ... I just don't understand them. And now, Azlan's divorce, the baby...it's like everything's falling apart."

Towsif reached for her hand, his touch grounding her. "It feels heavy, I know. But remember, Haya, this is life. Don't stress yourself."

Haya nodded.

"Haya," he began gently, "I think it's time. It would be best if you forgave, Shahana. She is also your daughter."

Haya stared at her hand, where his fingers intertwined with hers. Her breath hitched, the weight of his words settling in. "You are saying this to me, Towsif. She killed your daughter," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Towsif closed his eyes, then said, "I know. But it's been two years since that incident. And Shahana has learned from her mistake. I have forgiven her. You must forgive her too."

Haya's heart once again filled with respect for her husband. "I will try."

Her...