---
That night, Yusuf held Zainab close as she whispered:
"I was never supposed to be here. This life, this marriage—it wasn't meant for me."
He kissed her forehead gently.
"But you made it yours. You made me yours."
---
Months passed.
Zainab's belly grew.
She no longer feared the world, the whispers, or the cameras.
She had faced betrayal, pressure, and pain—yet she stood taller than ever.
---
And then… the day came.
Screams. Sweat. Tears.
Zainab clutched Yusuf's hand in the hospital bed as her body fought through the pain.
And finally… a cry.
A girl.
Tiny. Pink. Screaming like she had a voice meant to be heard.
Yusuf was silent as he held her for the first time.
"She looks like you," he whispered.
Zainab smiled weakly. "Then she'll survive anything."
---
They named her Zayrah — light in the midst of darkness.
---
Weeks later, Zainab sat outside in the garden, baby Zayrah in her arms, sunlight in her eyes.
She looked down at her daughter.
"They tried to break me, little one. But instead, they built you."
She glanced back at the mansion behind her—the place where it all started.
The contract. The silence. The tears. The betrayal.
And yet, somehow… love grew there.
Real love.
Not perfect. Not painless. But real.
---
Zainab stood now, not as a scared teenage bride…
But as a woman, a mother, and the author of her own story.
---