61. THIS WORLD ISN'T FOR ME

Taliya pushed open the creaky wooden door to her small, rundown house, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the day. She barely had the strength to close it behind her, the hinges groaning in protest as she leaned against it, taking a moment to catch her breath.

The house was modest, just a single room and a tiny kitchen, the kind of place that told stories of struggle in every corner. The tap in the kitchen dripped continuously, a steady, annoying rhythm that echoed in the quiet space. The worn-out furniture and the bare minimum of crockery on the shelves reminded her of how little she had, but it was still home, the only one she knew.

Taliya had been living alone since her foster parents left, leaving her behind to fend for herself in this forgotten corner of the world. Their departure was sudden, like a passing storm, leaving only memories and the faint hope that she could survive long enough to make something better of her life.

As she stepped further into the room, her eyes fell on the small table where she used to eat with them. It felt empty now, just like her heart. But Taliya was strong, stronger than anyone her age should have to be. She knew she had to keep going, to hold on for just a little longer. If she could endure this, if she could save enough, then maybe one day she’d find herself in a better place, in a home that didn’t carry the weight of loss and abandonment.

But for now, this was where she belonged, in this small, broken house, with the memories of those who had left her behind.

A small, hesitant smile lifted the corners of Taliya’s lips as she thought about Murad, the new student who had been a rare ray of sunshine in her otherwise gray world. It wasn’t often that someone like him noticed someone like her. His kindness had been unexpected, a gentle warmth that she hadn’t realized how much she craved until it was there.

But as soon as the smile appeared, it wavered, her thoughts darkening as reality set back in. She could still picture him trailing behind her after school, his curiosity unmistakable.

Her chest tightened with anxiety, and the warmth that had briefly blossomed in her heart was snuffed out by the cold grip of fear. What if he found out? What if he saw this place, this tiny, crumbling house that barely held itself together, just like her? What would he think if he knew she lived alone, surrounded by nothing but abandonment and silence?

The thought of him turning away, of seeing that moment of pity—or worse, disgust—in his eyes, made her stomach churn. Murad came from a different world, one where homes were warm and welcoming, where families gathered around tables for dinner, and where children didn’t have to fend for themselves. If he knew the truth, their fragile friendship, the one good thing she had found in so long, might shatter.

She couldn’t let that happen. Taliya clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she made a silent vow. She would keep this part of her life hidden, no matter what. She would laugh at his jokes, share stories during recess, and let him think that she was just like any other girl. But she wouldn’t let him follow her home. She wouldn’t let him see the truth of her life.

It was better this way, she told herself, even as her heart ached with the loneliness of the secret she would have to carry. Better to keep him at arm’s length, to protect what little she had, than to risk losing it all.

Taliya glanced up at the old clock on the wall, her eyes widening as she saw it was nearly four. Panic surged through her as she grabbed her worn-out backpack and bolted out the door. She sprinted through the streets, her feet pounding against the pavement, until she reached the small café she always visited after school. The place was a sanctuary for her, a refuge where the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the warmth of the owner’s kind heart.

As she burst through the door, Haroon’s father, the elderly man who ran the café, looked up from behind the counter. He gave her a playful glare, the kind that always made her feel like she was part of something, like she belonged somewhere. “Taliya, you’re late!” he teased, though there was a softness in his voice that hinted at something more serious.

Catching her breath, Taliya offered him a small, apologetic smile. She was about to slip into her usual routine when he called her over, his tone more somber than usual. “Come here, child,” he said, waving her closer.

She hesitated for a moment, sensing that whatever he wanted to talk about was important. When she finally walked over, he looked at her with a mixture of affection and concern, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he spoke. “Taliya, I’ve been thinking… I want to adopt you. But only if you’re okay with it.”

His words hung in the air between them, heavy and filled with meaning. Taliya felt her heart skip a beat. It wasn’t the first time he had brought this up, but it never got easier to hear. She forced a smile, trying to hide the confusion and fear that welled up inside her. Instead of giving him an answer, she simply turned away and began to do her work, wiping down tables and straightening chairs.

But Haroon’s father wasn’t one to let things go easily. He called her again, his voice gentle but insistent, trying to make her understand how much he cared for her, how much he wanted to give her a real home. Taliya stopped what she was doing and sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as she turned back to him.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she met his gaze. “I don’t know, oldy,” she whispered, using the nickname she had always called him. Her voice trembled as she continued, the words spilling out in a rush. “I don’t know. This world isn’t for me. I—I don’t understand it at all. I don’t understand this paperwork you’re talking about. I don’t know anything about business. I don’t even earn anything.”

Her voice broke as she looked at him, her vulnerability laid bare. “How am I going to survive here, oldy?”

The old man’s heart ached at the sight of her tears, but he didn’t push her further. Instead, he reached out and gently patted her head, offering her the only comfort he could in that moment. “We’ll figure it out together,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet reassurance. “You’re not alone, Taliya. You don’t have to do this alone.”

But Taliya wasn’t sure if she could believe him, not yet. The world felt too big, too complicated, and she felt too small to face it.

"I don't think so, oldy." She muttered loud enough for herself to hear as she went back to straightening the chairs. That was the only thing Mr. Mahir could let her do. He never allowed her to work but gave her allowance and helped her in every way he could.

The bell on the entrance chimed making the old man wipe his tears and walk back to his place.