did I do smth wrong?

Alistair Clyde:

hey. sorry if I did anything to make you upset or uncomfortable. pls at least let me know ur alright when u can

I groan loudly and shove my face into my pillow.

Dadu happens to walk by my door then, cracked open from when she brought me dinner. She stops and looks at me with raised eyebrows.

I shake my head, not having an answer to explain my predicament.

“Do you want to watch Beauty and the Beast?” she asks. She knows it’s my favorite childhood movie. “You don’t have school tomorrow since it’s spring break, right? So it’s okay to stay up late?”

Maybe my parents are making my life a psychological horror film, but at least my grandma is here.

“Yeah, Dadu, I’d love that,” I say, throwing my blanket off.

She smiles. “I just have to make one call and I’ll join you.”

I nod my agreement and head toward the living room to put on the movie. I make the active choice to leave my phone behind.

As I’m walking down the stairs, Samir climbs up them, and I avert my gaze. In the corner of my eye, I see a bewildered expression on his face, but I keep going without a word.

I’ve been avoiding Samir since yesterday. I don’t know what to say to him, how to explain this rising resentment. At the end of the day, I know most of the blame lies on my parents, but he still told them. I don’t know how to get past it.

When Dadu comes back, her expression is exhausted.

I falter. “Who were you talking to?”

She sighs. “Nabila. She’s having a rough time.”

Of course. I’m not even remotely surprised Dadu still reaches out to my estranged cousin, even though the whole family was supposed to cut her off.

I never doubted Dadu for a moment, but knowing she’s willing to put aside traditional beliefs in order to support Nabila is a huge relief. I’m glad Nabila has that.

Selfishly, I’m also glad to know all of us, no matter what happens, will always have Dadu in our corner.

Dadu and I curl up together on the couch, and she counts off beads on her misbaha as she hums along to some of the songs.

Halfway through the film, when Belle and Beast are in the library, Dadu glances at me. “You know, back in Bangladesh, I used to have shelves overflowing with books, too.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Yes,” Dadu says. “I remember wishing I could read forever. Your Dada and I would read to your dad and your uncles when they were younger. It was the only way we could get them to fall asleep. They’d always ask for more. Stories are such beautiful things.”