Taif - Part 8: Healing the Wounds of Time

Zayn was home.

Taif still couldn’t believe it.

Every morning, she woke up expecting it to be a dream—that any moment, she would open her eyes and find herself back in a world where she still believed her son was gone.

But then, she would hear the sound of tiny footsteps padding across the floor. She would see Zayn rubbing the sleep from his eyes, looking up at her with a soft smile that melted all the pain away.

And she knew.

This was real.

For the first time in eight years, her son was where he belonged.

A New Beginning

Taif adjusted quickly to life as a mother—not just as a teacher who cared for her students, but as a mother to a little boy who had gone far too long without a family of his own.

At first, Zayn was hesitant in their home. He still flinched at loud noises. He still hesitated before calling her Mama, as if the word itself felt foreign on his tongue.

But little by little, he softened.

He followed Taif around the house, clinging to her presence as though afraid she might disappear.

She never scolded him for it.

She simply smiled, reaching for his hand and holding it tightly in hers, reassuring him without words that she was never leaving him again.

Diaa, too, stepped into his role as a father with ease.

Though Zayn had been hesitant around him at first, Diaa was patient. He read stories to him at night, brought home small surprises, and took him on short drives around the neighborhood—little things to make Zayn feel safe.

And over time, it worked.

One night, as Diaa tucked Zayn into bed, the little boy suddenly spoke.

"Baba?"

Diaa froze.

Zayn had never called him that before.

He turned, his throat thick with emotion. "Yes, habibi?"

The boy hesitated, then whispered, "Can you stay until I sleep?"

Diaa swallowed hard, his heart aching at how small his voice was.

"Of course," he murmured, sitting beside him. "I’ll always be here."

And as Zayn drifted off, Diaa wiped away a tear, knowing that—for the first time—his son truly believed it.

An Unexpected Meeting

One afternoon, as Taif picked up Zayn from school, Umm Ayman approached her.

"You have another visitor today," she said with a small smile.

Taif frowned. "Who?"

Umm Ayman stepped aside, revealing a familiar face.

Umm Mu’tasim.

Taif’s heart skipped a beat. "Umm Mu’tasim?"

The older woman smiled warmly. "I heard the news."

Taif’s chest tightened. "Then you know."

Umm Mu’tasim nodded, her eyes shining. "That Zayn is your son?"

Taif exhaled. "Yes."

The older woman reached out and took her hands gently. "I knew it," she murmured. "From the first moment I saw him, I knew he belonged to you."

Taif swallowed hard, emotion thick in her throat. "I can’t thank you enough," she whispered. "For everything you did. For speaking up when you didn’t have to. If it weren’t for you…"

Umm Mu’tasim squeezed her hands. "You would’ve found your way to him, no matter what. A mother always does."

Taif wiped at her eyes.

"You’re right," she whispered.

Because no matter how many years had passed, no matter how much had been stolen from them—her son had always been meant to find his way back to her.

The Orphanage’s Fate

Though justice had been served for Zayn, Taif knew her fight wasn’t over.

There were still so many children at the orphanage—children who had suffered under the same cruel hands that had hurt Zayn.

She wouldn’t let them be forgotten.

Within weeks, she used the media attention surrounding the case to push for change.

She spoke out about the abuses. She demanded better conditions.

And eventually, she got what she wanted.

The orphanage was placed under new management. Strict policies were put in place to protect the children.

And Taif?

She made sure she was there.

Not just as a teacher, but as an advocate—a voice for those who had none.

Because she refused to let any other child suffer the way her son had.

A Home for Everyone

One afternoon, as Taif and Zayn sat in the park, he looked up at her suddenly.

"Mama?"

She smiled. "Yes, habibi?"

Zayn hesitated before whispering, "I miss my friends at the orphanage."

Taif’s heart clenched. "I know, sweetheart."

Zayn looked down. "Can they… can they come live with us?"

Taif let out a soft laugh, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Oh, my love. I wish I could bring them all home."

Zayn looked up at her, his eyes big and hopeful.

She hesitated.

And then, an idea formed in her mind.

Maybe she couldn’t take them all in.

But she could do something even greater.

That night, she sat with Diaa, her heart racing as she voiced her thoughts.

"What if we open a home for them?" she whispered.

Diaa stared at her. "A home?"

"A real one," she said. "A safe place. A foster home. Where children like Zayn don’t have to feel lost or abandoned anymore."

Her husband was quiet for a long time.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"You really don’t stop, do you?" he murmured.

Taif grinned. "Not when it comes to children like Zayn."

Diaa exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

Then, finally, he nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Let’s do it."

The House of Light

Months passed.

Taif worked tirelessly. She met with officials, filed paperwork, and raised funds.

And finally—her dream became a reality.

A home for children who had nowhere else to go.

A place where they could be safe.

Where they could be loved.

She named it "Dar Al-Nour"—The House of Light.

Because for every child who had lived in the dark, she wanted to give them light.

A Mother’s Promise

One evening, as she tucked Zayn into bed, she leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Sleep well, my love," she whispered.

Zayn blinked up at her, then smiled.

"I love you, Mama," he whispered back.

Taif’s heart swelled.

"I love you more," she murmured.

She turned off the light, stepping toward the door.

But before she left, she looked back at him—her son, her miracle.

And she made a silent promise.

She would never stop fighting.

For Zayn.

For every child who had ever been lost.

And for every mother still waiting to find her way back to them.