The drive to Ayesha's home took an hour and a half, the roads weaving through the scenic outskirts of Portland. Maryam gazed out of the car window, watching the suburban homes and bustling streets pass by. It was a crisp, sunny Sunday morning, and the sky was a brilliant blue. The warmth of the sun on her face felt reassuring—a sign, perhaps, that this was a new beginning for her.
Ayesha's home was situated in a cozy, middle-class neighborhood, a modest yet welcoming house with a small garden in the front. As they pulled into the driveway, Maryam took a deep breath, preparing herself to meet Ayesha's family.
The front door swung open before they could even knock. Ayesha's husband, Ubaid, stood in the doorway with a warm smile. He was a tall man in his early thirties, dressed in casual slacks and a button-up shirt. Behind him, two small figures peeked out excitedly—Ayesha's seven-year-old daughter, Khadija, and her four-year-old son, Umar.
"As-salamu alaykum!" Ubaid greeted them cheerfully, stepping aside to let them in. "We've been waiting for you. Welcome, Maryam."
"Wa alaykum as-salam," Maryam replied softly, stepping into the house. She was immediately embraced by Ayesha's mother-in-law, Mrs. Samina, a gentle woman in her late fifties who had recently arrived from Karachi to spend time with her family.
"Beta, welcome to our home," Mrs. Samina said, holding Maryam's hands warmly. "Ayesha has told us so much about you. I hope you find peace and comfort here."
Maryam smiled, touched by the kindness in the woman's eyes. "JazakAllah khair, aunty. That means a lot to me."
The children, unable to contain their excitement any longer, ran up to Ayesha, clinging to her legs. "Mama, did you bring anything for us?" Khadija asked eagerly.
Ayesha laughed and tousled her daughter's hair. "I did, but you have to wait until later. First, let's settle in."
Ubaid helped carry Maryam's luggage inside, while Ayesha led her to the guest room. The room was simple but cozy, with a neatly made bed, a wooden wardrobe, and a small prayer mat in one corner. A soft floral scent lingered in the air, making Maryam feel at home instantly.
"This is your space," Ayesha said, setting down Maryam's handbag. "Stay as long as you need to. There's no rush."
Maryam placed her hand on Ayesha's shoulder, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Ayesha. I don't know what I would have done without you."
"You're my sister, Maryam," Ayesha replied. "And sisters look out for each other. Now, freshen up and rest for a while. We'll have lunch together soon."
Maryam nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. She was no longer alone. She had found a new family, a new home, and perhaps, a new purpose. As she unpacked her small belongings, she whispered a quiet prayer of thanks, embracing the journey ahead with a hopeful heart.