THE SILENT HEART NOVEL
CHAPTER TWO: THE PRICE OF A LIE
Meenal stared at her grandmother, her eyes wide with fake innocence. "Grandma, do you think I’m crazy? Why would I just give him money? I found a new shop the prices are unbelievable! Everything is five naira. I think they get their stock straight from a magical warehouse in Dandi." She grinned, her teeth gleaming.
She picked up a large tin of powdered milk. "See this? Five naira."
The old woman narrowed her eyes. She pulled a five-naira note from her pocket and pressed it into Meenal’s hand. "Fine. If it’s that cheap, go get me another one right now."
Without a second thought, Meenal snatched the bill and bolted. She paused in the courtyard, glancing up at Ma’aruf’s balcony. He wasn't there. Good, she thought with a smirk. God loves me today. If he were here, he’d probably try to cheat me out of more change.
She marched into the neighborhood’s biggest grocery store, her chest puffed out. Seeing the milk tins lined up, she pointed at one with a flourish. The clerk bagged it and set it on the counter. Meenal slid her five-naira note across the wood.
The clerk stared at the bill, then at her. "And what am I supposed to do with this?"
Meenal lowered her voice, whispering as if sharing a secret. "Look, Mr. Fragrance next door might be a scammer, but he told me these are five naira. I’m starting to think he owes me even more change than I thought! Give me my milk and a piece of candy with the balance."
The clerk’s face went flat. "Give me the money for the milk, kid."
"I just did!" she snapped. "I gave you five naira. Now give me my candy or are you trying to rob me?"
The man let out an exasperated hiss and snatched the bag back. "Get out of here! Who on earth sells a giant tin of Peak milk for five naira? Go home to your father and stop wasting my time!"
Meenal burst into a loud, dramatic wail right there in the shop. "I’m not going anywhere until you give me my money back! You’re trying to steal from an old woman! I bought one just like this for five naira ten minutes ago!"
"Get out before I lose my temper!" the man roared. He grabbed a switch from behind the counter, and Meenal took off, her fake sobs turning into real shrieks of terror as she ran all the way home.
ESCAPE AND CONSEQUENCES
She threw herself into her grandmother’s lap, sobbing loudly though notably, not a single tear fell from her eyes.
"What happened now, Meenalle?" the old woman asked, concerned despite herself.
"It was a goat!" Meenal wailed, kicking her legs. "I was walking to the shop and a giant goat jumped out and snatched the money right out of my hand!"
The grandmother sighed. She knew a lie when she heard one, but she figured the girl had probably just lost the money. "Alright, Aminatu, hush. If a goat took it, a goat took it. I’m not going to beat you over five naira."
Meenal didn't stop. She upped the drama, thrashing around on the floor until crunch. She felt something snap under her foot. She froze, looking down. The bag of flour Ma’aruf had bought her had been lying on the floor, and in her "tantrum," she had stepped right on it. White powder was everywhere.
Knowing the sting of Grandma’s broom was definitely coming now, Meenal didn't wait. She scrambled to her feet and vanished out the door before the old woman could even process the mess.
THE LESSON AT SCHOOL
Meenal sought refuge at her mother’s house, but things weren't much better there. Her mother, Rabi, lived under the thumb of a bitter, short-tempered husband. Meenal watched from behind her mother as the man stormed in, screaming about his dinner not being ready.
"You're only this grumpy because you're broke!" Meenal piped up from her hiding spot.
Her mother gasped, slapping her hand over Meenal's mouth. The husband turned purple with rage. "Rabi! You’ve raised a daughter who insults her elders? Fine. I have a son who knows how to handle bratty girls!"
Meenal didn't stick around to meet the son. she sprinted back toward the Islamic school, arriving late and breathless.
The teacher, Ustaz, was already in a foul mood. "Aminatu Abubakar! Step forward. No excuses today."
As he swung the cane, Meenal didn't just take it. She lunged forward, diving under his oversized robes and—with the ferocity of a cornered kitten clamped her teeth onto his chest.
The teacher let out a strangled yelp, trying to shake her off, but she held on like a leech. By the time he pried her off and retreated to the bathroom to check the damage, she had left five distinct bite marks. The man sat on the floor of the stall, wiping away a stray tear and whispering a prayer for God to deal with her, because he certainly couldn't.
A HEART’S SECRET
Later that afternoon, Meenal saw the car pulling out of Ma’aruf’s estate. She ran to the window as Abba lowered the glass.
"Abba! Mr. Fragrance still hasn't paid me back!" she pouted.
Abba smiled sadly. "Well, my dear, Mr. Fragrance isn't feeling well today. He’s sick."
Meenal’s face fell. "What’s wrong with *my* Mr. Fragrance?" she asked, her voice trembling with genuine worry.
Abba led her inside to Ma’aruf’s room. He was pale, resting under a heavy duvet. Meenal crept to his bedside, her eyes wide. She reached out and touched the soft stubble on his jaw.
"Mr. Fragrance?" she whispered.
He was awake but exhausted. When he didn't answer, she leaned in and let out a sharp, playful yell right in his ear.
He jumped, his eyes snapping open as the sound echoed in his skull. Meenal giggled, but as she touched his forehead, her smile vanished. "You're burning up," she said, her voice cracking.
He nodded weakly. She leaned in closer. "You know, Mr. Fragrance, being this sick and still owing me money is a bad combination. It makes the fever worse."
Ma’aruf let out a weak chuckle. He reached into his bedside drawer, pulled out a crisp five-naira note, and pressed it into her palm.
"See?" she beamed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Now you’re all paid up. If you die today, your soul is in the clear. But... please don't die. I don't want you to."
Ma’aruf sat up slowly, pulling the little girl onto his lap and wiping her tears. "Death comes for everyone, Meenatou. But don't worry. Pray for me, and I’ll stay. I have a 'Sirrin Zuci' a secret of the heart to share with you one day."
Over the next few days, Meenal became his little nurse. She brought him food, though she made sure to eat four pieces of meat for every one she gave him. She watched him recover, her presence the best medicine he could have asked for.
One afternoon, as they sat together, Ma’aruf reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gold ring. He slipped it onto her finger.
"Is this for me?" she asked, mesmerized by the glint.
"It is," he whispered. "Do you know what a heart is, Meenatou?"
"Of course! We learned that in first grade."
"Good," he smiled. "Keep this ring. It represents my heart."
Meenal laughed so hard she cried. "This is your heart? Well, then you better take mine too." She untied the ribbon from her hair—the one her mother had given her for the holiday and pressed it into his hand. "I love this ribbon. Now it's your heart."
Ma’aruf tucked the simple piece of fabric into his pocket as if it were made of gold.
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