Taif - Part 4: The Hidden Scars

The days passed, and Taif could feel a shift in her classroom. The air was lighter, the tension easing little by little. Noor had apologized to Zayn, though it had been an awkward, hesitant exchange. Still, it was a step forward.

Yet, something still troubled Taif. Zayn was improving, but he wasn’t healing.

She could see it in his eyes—the way he still flinched at sudden sounds, the way his hands curled into fists when anyone got too close. He was learning to trust her, but the ghosts of his past refused to let him go.

And Taif had a feeling she knew why.

One afternoon, after class ended, she watched as Zayn lingered behind.

Most of the students had already rushed outside, eager for their short time in the playground before returning to their rooms at the orphanage. But Zayn stayed in his seat, staring blankly ahead.

Taif approached quietly.

"Zayn?"

The boy tensed slightly.

She crouched beside him. "Would you like to take a walk with me?"

Zayn hesitated, then nodded.

Together, they walked through the school hallways, passing by classrooms filled with noisy students and teachers finishing up their lessons.

Taif led him toward a quieter part of the school near the caretaker’s office, where Umm Ayman often sat in the afternoons, drinking tea.

When they arrived, Umm Ayman looked up from her cup and smiled. "Ah, Taif. And Zayn! To what do I owe this visit?"

Taif turned to Zayn. "Would you like some tea?"

Zayn didn’t respond, but Taif noticed the way he glanced at Umm Ayman’s cup.

Umm Ayman chuckled and reached for another cup, pouring some tea and handing it to the boy.

"Here you go, little one."

Zayn hesitated but finally took it. He held the cup close to his chest, staring into the steaming liquid.

Taif watched him closely before speaking again. "Umm Ayman," she said casually, "I’ve been thinking a lot about Zayn’s past. About his… silence."

The older woman’s smile faded.

Zayn stiffened.

Taif turned to him gently. "I know you weren’t always this way, Zayn."

The boy’s grip on the cup tightened.

"You used to speak. Laugh. Play."

Zayn’s shoulders hunched.

"Zayn," she whispered, "can you tell me what happened?"

For a moment, it felt as though the whole world had gone still.

Then, Zayn let out a tiny, broken sound.

It wasn’t a word. It wasn’t even a full sob. But it was the first noise she had ever heard from him.

Taif’s heart ached.

Umm Ayman placed a hand on her chest, looking away as if to give him privacy.

And then, in a barely audible whisper, Zayn finally spoke.

"They locked me away."

Taif’s breath caught.

Zayn was staring at his tea, his lips trembling. "They put me in the dark. And they left me there."

Taif’s vision blurred with tears. "Who?" she asked softly.

He sniffled, his small fingers tightening around the cup. "The lady at the orphanage," he whispered. "She said I was bad. That I needed to be punished."

Taif clenched her fists. The orphanage.

Umm Ayman sighed heavily. "I was afraid of this," she muttered.

Zayn continued, his voice raw. "She put me in a small room. There were rats." He swallowed hard. "I cried. I screamed. But no one came."

Taif wiped at her eyes, trying to steady herself. "How long were you there?"

He hesitated. Then, in a voice so small she almost didn’t hear it, he said,

"Two days."

Taif covered her mouth in horror.

Zayn sniffled again. "When they finally let me out, I—" He broke off, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "I tried to talk. But the words wouldn’t come anymore."

And then, just like that, he fell silent again.

Taif turned away, her hands shaking with rage. How could they? How could anyone do this to a child?

Umm Ayman exhaled deeply. "I always suspected something happened," she murmured. "But the orphanage has its secrets. And people are too afraid to speak up."

Taif wasn’t afraid.

She turned to Umm Ayman, her voice firm. "I want to report them."

The older woman gave her a sad smile. "I knew you’d say that."

"But I need proof."

Umm Ayman nodded. "Then you need to talk to someone who was there."

Taif frowned. "Who?"

Umm Ayman hesitated before glancing toward the door. "You should meet Umm Mu’tasim."

Taif blinked. "Who?"

"A former worker at the orphanage," Umm Ayman explained. "She left years ago, but she knows a lot. And… she’s been waiting for someone like you."

Taif felt a spark of determination ignite in her chest.

She looked down at Zayn, who was now wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

She reached out and gently placed a hand on his head.

"I promise you, Zayn," she whispered. "I won’t let them get away with this."

Zayn lifted his eyes to hers, searching her face for any sign of dishonesty.

And then, for the first time since she had met him, he nodded.