Recap of Episode #2
Aymen finds herself standing before a grand palace, only to step inside and be transported to her childhood home, reliving warm memories of Iftar with her siblings and the comforting presence of her mother. Overcome with nostalgia, she shares her longing for simpler times, prompting Mama’s gentle reminder that parenthood is about creating security and love for the next generation—just as Aymen’s parents once did for her. Waking from the dream, she carries her mother’s wisdom into her day, ensuring her own children, Zayn and Sara, feel cherished as they observe their first fast. A visit from her cheerful neighbor Azizah adds warmth to the day, but as Iftar ends, a phone call from Azizah suddenly shatters the peace—her trembling voice revealing an urgent crisis.
_________________________________________________________________
Next Episode
Aymen picked up the phone, her voice light and teasing.
"Assalamu Alaikum, my dear chatterbox! What made you call at this hour?"
A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she shifted comfortably, twirling the edge of her sleeve between her fingers.
But the moment she heard the first shaky breath on the other end, her smile vanished.
"Aymen… Aymen…" Azizah’s voice cracked, trembling and weak. Then came the sobs—raw, unrestrained, breaking through in uneven gasps.
Aymen immediately sat up, her heart tightening. "Azizah? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Talk to me!"
Her fingers clutched the phone tighter, her voice laced with worry.
"Aymen… Ali—Ali was hit by a car!" Azizah’s words tumbled out between sobs. "He’s badly injured. They—they took him to the hospital, and I just got the call. I don’t know what to do. Please, Aymen, come! You and Hasan, please take me to him! I—I can’t think, I can’t breathe!"
A cold wave of shock rushed through Aymen. She gripped the phone, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of her.
"Azizah, listen to me. Breathe. We’re coming. Just hold on, alright? We’ll be there in minutes!"
She assured, forcing her voice to remain steady despite the panic clawing at her chest.
She didn’t waste another second. Jumping to her feet, she sprinted toward the TV lounge. The room was dim, the low hum of the ceiling fan barely masking the pounding of her heart.
"Hasan, we have to go! Right now!" She called out, urgency shaking her voice.
Hasan, lounging on the couch with his eyes on the TV screen, turned his head sharply at the alarm in her tone. His brows furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes.
"Aymen, what happened?"
She swallowed hard, trying to keep her breath steady. "It’s Azizah… Ali’s been in an accident. He was hit by a car. He’s in the hospital, and she’s panicking. We need to get her there—now!"
Hasan’s expression changed in an instant—his body tensed, jaw tightening. Without hesitation, he grabbed his car keys from the side table. "Let’s go."
Aymen wrapped her scarf hastily, fingers fumbling in her rush. Her mind raced, still processing Azizah’s frantic cries.
One moment, everything had been normal. The next, their peaceful Ramadan night had turned into a nightmare.
As they rushed out the door, one thought echoed in her mind—
"Ya Allah, let Ali be okay."
Hasan rushed toward the front door.
"I'll let Ami and Abu know," Aymen said quickly before following him.
Within minutes, Hasan and Aymen arrived at Azizah’s house. She stood by the door, her face pale, hands trembling. Aymen immediately wrapped an arm around her.
"Ali will be okay, Azizah. You have to stay strong," she reassured her.
Azizah gave a weak nod, but her tears didn’t stop. Silent sobs racked her body as she clutched Aymen’s arm.
The three of them got into the car, and within moments, they reached the hospital.
At the front desk, Hasan leaned forward urgently. "Ali—Ali Khan. We need to know his condition!"
The receptionist checked her records and replied, "He’s in the emergency room."
Without wasting a second, they rushed toward the emergency ward.
As soon as they entered, their eyes fell on Ali. He was lying on a hospital bed, eyes closed. A doctor stood beside him, scribbling notes while a nurse adjusted the IV.
The moment the doctor turned, Hasan stepped forward. "Doctor, he's my friend. What happened? How serious are his injuries?" His voice carried deep concern.
The doctor sighed, his expression calm. "Your friend is very lucky. The accident was bad, but his injuries aren’t severe."
"Alhamdulillah!" The relieved exclamation left Azizah’s, Aymen’s, and Hasan’s lips at the same time.
The doctor continued, "Right now, he’s under the effect of medication and resting. We’ll keep him under observation for a while, but if all goes well, you can take him home soon. However, he will need a lot of care."
Hasan shook the doctor’s hand. "Thank you so much, doctor."
Azizah let out a shaky breath, covering her mouth as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. She broke down, her body trembling as relief and exhaustion finally took over.
Aymen didn’t think twice. She pulled her into a tight embrace. "Don’t worry, Azizah. Allah has been merciful. Ali is safe."
Azizah sniffled, her voice barely above a whisper. "But… how did this even happen?"
Azizah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I don’t know," she whispered, her voice hollow. "After Iftar, Ali left for a meeting. It was only half an hour later that I got the call from the hospital."
Her hands trembled as she wiped the fresh tears spilling from her eyes.
Hasan, watching her closely, turned to Aymen. "I’ll get her some water," he said softly.
Aymen nodded as Hasan walked off, then gently guided Azizah to a row of chairs in the hospital corridor. She kept hold of her hand, feeling its icy coldness.
A few minutes later, Hasan returned with a small bottle of water, handing it to Azizah.
"There’s a masjid a short distance from here," he said, checking the time. "I’ll join Isha and Taraweeh there. Call me if anything urgent happens."
Aymen and Azizah both nodded. As Hasan walked away, Aymen’s gaze followed him down the corridor until he disappeared through the doors.
Azizah, as if the exhaustion had finally caught up with her, rested her head on Aymen’s shoulder.
Aymen looked down at her friend’s tear-streaked face, and a flood of thoughts washed over her.
The same face that had been beaming with laughter this morning was now drowning in sorrow. How unpredictable life is. We plan one thing, but something entirely different happens.
Her gaze softened as she thought about the nature of relationships. How strange and yet how beautiful they are.
A husband and wife—once complete strangers—become bound so deeply that their joys and sorrows merge into one. Their happiness intertwines, their grief becomes shared. These bonds are both fragile and precious. They give life meaning.
And in that moment, Aymen recalled her own struggles from the day before—the feeling of being overwhelmed by responsibilities, the endless demands of home and family.
But now, as she sat in this cold hospital corridor, a realization struck her.
These relationships are not burdens. They are blessings.
They are the very essence of life, the reason we feel love, care, and belonging. This is why Allah has called them Huqooq-ul-Ibaad—the rights of His servants.
Without relationships, who would be there in our times of need? How terrifying would loneliness be?
As her thoughts carried her away, another wave of realization hit her.
The responsibilities of home, of Zayn and Sara, the noise, the endless tasks—all of it is better than sitting in the still, heavy silence of a hospital.
And then, a verse from the Quran echoed in her mind:
فَبِأَيِّ آلَاءِ رَبِّكُمَا تُكَذِّبَانِ
"So which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?" (Surah Ar-Rahman 55:13)
A lump formed in her throat.
Ya Allah, thank You for every blessing. We are the ones who fail to see them.
Just then, Hasan returned, his expression lighter than before.
"I spoke to the doctor. Ali is conscious now, and they’re ready to discharge him. He’s going to be okay."
Azizah gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. "Alhamdulillah!" she whispered, tears spilling once again—this time from relief.
Aymen squeezed her hand. "See? Allah is merciful."
After completing the formalities, they helped Ali into the car. Aymen sat in the front with Hasan, while Azizah sat in the back, holding Ali’s hand tightly—clutching it as if she had been given back something too precious to lose.
Aymen noticed the gesture and smiled to herself.
This night had been overwhelming, but for some reason, she felt a deep clarity within.
By the time they dropped off Azizah and Ali at their home and returned to their own, the house was quiet. Zayn and Sara were already asleep, while Ami and Abu waited in the lounge, concern evident on their faces.
After reassuring them that Ali was out of danger, Aymen and Hasan finally went to their room.
They were exhausted. A few whispered words between them, and soon, sleep took over.
The Next Morning – Suhoor Time
The loud chime of the alarm pulled Aymen out of sleep. She groggily reached for her phone and silenced it.
After making wudu, she stood on the prayer mat, offering her Tahajjud salah.
Ya Allah, thank You for Your blessings. Forgive me for my weaknesses. Help me to be grateful always.
As she finished her du’a and stepped toward the kitchen, she felt lighter, more at peace.
But as soon as she reached the doorway, her eyes widened in shock. What she saw in the kitchen shocked her to the core.
But why? What had happened?
What new challenge was waiting for Aymen this morning?
Find out in Episode 4! Stay tuned!