Saladin paced down the front hall, realizing now that he had left the room, he didn't know where to go. It had been cruel of Neha to bring out those things without warning him. Of all people, she should have warned him! And they were all talking about Sahar as if they knew, what did any of them know? Asking what Sahar would say first when talking about Daizi, what she'd be most proud of. Casting his gaze around this house he paid for decorated with so much forbidden imagery, no doubt selected by that man who had corrupted his daughter and pulled her away. What would Sahar say? What would she be proud of? But if he fashioned himself after Zeus, Sahar was Metis, buzzing in his mind and contradicting him. No, she wouldn't have cared, but she should have. Sahar had lived and died a songbird in a beautiful cage, too delicate to survive in the wild. Daizi had been turned wild, and Sahar would've lacked the strength to say so. Still, that buzzing in his mind reminded him yes, Sahar was naivë, but that naïveté meant, yes, she'd be proud of their daughter. But hard as he tried, he couldn't figure out what she'd be proud of. Being a doctor was a neutral start, he guessed. And he stood awkwardly in the front hall, wishing he still smoked so he had an excuse to step outside instead of standing like he was the new coat rack.
Yasmin sat awkwardly as her extended relatives cried over a photograph of a woman who had died decades before she met her husband, who was too young at the time to have more than a few scant memories of her. She was empathetic, certainly, because she liked her extended relatives, they had always been good to her, but she felt more than a little out of place. When Marwan finally noticed, he gave her a slight nod, and she swiftly left the room, saying, "I'm going to see if Xander needs any help." True to her word, that's exactly where she went, but seeing everything clearly finished, she rubbed her perfectly manicured nails on one hand against the nails opposite them, and watching Xander watch the action, took a quick breath and still asked, "Is there anything I can help with?"
With Saladin gone, Dark moved more closely into Daizi, and was near to saying something when Hassan and Noor stepped inside again. Noor quickly noticed the picture frame on the table, it used to hang on her grandmother's wall. Hassan, however, looked over at all of the faces and asked, with a big grin, "Wow, who died?"
Immediately, Noor pulled on her brother's arm, "In about five minutes, it'll be you, ya hamar. Were you born stupid or do you work at it?"