3

She tossed the phone back onto the glass table beside her as if shaking off something sticky clinging to her skin; it struck lightly and vibrated briefly before settling.

The illuminated screen gradually faded to black, leaving a faint trace of blue light lingering in the air.

The two women had settled into Reem’s room—her private suite within the palace—where the environment was better suited to her physical well-being as she prepared for the next phase.

The white light from the bedside lamp spilled over the furniture with a cold precision, devoid of any genuine warmth.

Everything appeared overly tidy: the luxurious gray leather sofa, the glass table—bare save for the phone and a half-full glass of water—and the heavy curtains that remained motionless despite the window being left slightly ajar.

Hala, her friend, didn't move from her spot; she merely tilted her head slightly,

her eyes fixed on the phone screen after catching the name that had appeared for the tenth time in just a few minutes. She spoke in a quiet voice, carrying that specific kind of curiosity that masquerades as indifference

: "Why are you ignoring her?"

She didn't turn to look at her immediately. She was preoccupied with something else—something inside her head that was louder than the persistent ringing.

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her gold bracelet, moving it slowly, like someone testing its balance between two decisions. Then, without looking up, she said

: "A chatterbox of a woman... I know what she’s going to say. She wants money."

Her friend gave a short, unconvinced laugh, then leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on her knee:

"Still, ten calls in five minutes? That’s not just asking for money... that’s desperation."

"She’s been hounding me for a week. Every time I answer, it’s the same story—a request, a complaint, and then money."

Her friend wasn't entirely convinced, but she shifted her line of questioning

: "What about the new doctor? I heard she comes in from England once a month."

The atmosphere shifted slightly at the mention of the name—not because the name itself was significant, but because of the context surrounding it. Her features softened a little, and a glint appeared in her eyes—something that wasn't quite indifference...

but rather anticipation.

"I’m optimistic about her this time..."

She paused for a moment, then continued

: "I think she’s different... everyone talks about her genius in the field of fertility."

"People say a lot of things..."

She said it quietly, then added after a moment

: "But the strange thing is that everyone who praises her does so with the same enthusiasm... as if they aren't talking about a doctor, but an opportunity."

She didn't answer directly. Instead, she turned toward the half-open window.

No real breeze was coming in, yet its presence was palpable; a heavy curtain stirred almost imperceptibly,

as if slowly swelling outward. A notification arrived—a voice message accompanied by a text from the same number.

This time, she couldn't ignore it; the message seized her entire focus, riveting her senses upon a dream she longed to touch.

"Rejoice, Madam—you are finally going to be a mother."

❈-❈-❈

"Asia, my daughter, are you alright?"

Asia’s mother asked, panic etched across her somewhat lined face as she hurriedly embraced her daughter tightly.

For the past half-hour, she had been terrified—her heart pounding as if it might burst from her chest—ever since a nurse had called, urgently summoning her without explaining why.

Her immediate fear had been that some harm had befallen her daughter—something Asia had kept from her to avoid causing worry. Asia hugged her back, patting her gently on the back

: "Mom, I’m fine... don’t worry. Just sit down. The doctor needs to tell me something crucial about my future, and I wanted you by my side to hear it."

The mother cast a look of uncertainty between her daughter and the doctor. The doctor nodded, offering a wavering smile and reassuring her with the very words she was longing to hear:

"There is no need to worry; it is a simple matter... A mistake occurred—I will explain it to you, Madam—and I hope you will view the situation sensibly."

The doctor tried to maintain her composure and suppress her anxiety about a potential escalation, especially given the director’s warning:

"Has the patient arrived? Contain the situation by any means necessary; any escalation could completely ruin the center's reputation."

"What kind of mistake?"

She handed her the relatively large yellow file—acting as though the woman could actually decipher the medical terminology inside—hoping to instill a sense of credibility...

and hoping she would understand and avoid causing trouble. If things went wrong, the entire center would inevitably come crashing down on them.

"Two months ago, Ms. Asia underwent a procedure by mistake. I am not sure exactly how the anesthesia was administered, but all I know—and what I suspect happened—is that there was a mix-up between her medical file and that of another patient."

She fell silent, watching the impact of her words and allowing time for them to sink in. The woman shook her head in bewilderment

: "I don't understand... What is happening here?"

"Please, there is no need to worry, Madam; let me explain. Unfortunately, the procedure in question was related to fertility issues—a fertilization procedure. The result is that your daughter is two months pregnant."

The woman’s jaw dropped. She fixed a piercing gaze on her daughter, who lowered her eyes as if afraid to meet her mother's look, then shook her head in denial.

The mother instantly broke down in tears:

"What? Pregnant? Pregnant out of wedlock? My daughter has never been married—how did this happen? How?"

"Mom, the procedure doesn't distinguish between a married woman and an unmarried one... I mean, it can be performed on a virgin, and it works just as well."

The doctor glanced down at the report, speaking professionally as her eyes scanned the file:

"In Ms. Asia’s case, I find myself marveling—not at just one thing, but at many. To begin with, the procedure went incredibly smoothly, as if her uterus were already primed for it. What’s more, she went about her daily routine without the pregnancy being affected in the slightest."

She set the file aside and continued, clasping her hands together

: "But what raises my suspicions..."

She paused for a moment, clearing her throat gently

: "...is that the sample had been prepared a full week before the procedure. Did you know something back then, Asia?"

❈-❈-❈.

With graceful, confident strides, she quickly moved from the first floor to the second—specifically, to her dear husband’s office.

Mazen’s private secretary greeted her with exaggerated warmth. Reem offered her a haughty smile, before her gaze fixed on the woman’s clearly visible, rounded belly.

"Are you pregnant?"

The young woman grew flustered and stammered quickly

: "Yes, but I’m only in my fourth month; my health is fine, and I’m performing my duties perfectly, without any shortcomings."

Understanding the source of her nervousness, Reem let a faint, mocking smile play across her thin, heavily painted lips; then, with a wandering, unfocused gaze, she asked:

"Is pregnancy exhausting? I mean, what does it feel like to have a soul settling in your womb—moving and breathing... It’s a beautiful feeling, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course; motherhood is the ultimate blessing."

She realized she had stood there too long and stared a bit too intently—something the young woman found odd.

After all, since when did Mrs. Reem ever actually speak to them? Usually, she offered only brief glances—glances tinged with an arrogance the other woman readily forgave; any woman in her position would act the same way, if not worse...

She truly envied her. Little did she know that Reem was the one envying *her*—a thought running through Reem's mind as she walked away and reached the office door. She took a deep breath before entering and plastering a wide smile on her face

a smile that instantly froze on her lips—along with her fingers on the door handle—the moment she saw what made her stomach clench in dread

. ❈-❈-❈