Chapter 11 :The Weight of Silence

Noor's mornings began with the sharp call of the first light, an hour before the sun had even begun to rise. Her schedule was as relentless as the drive that pushed her forward each day. In those early moments, when the world was still and quiet, she would rise from her bed, the weight of the day ahead already pressing down on her.

Maya was always there, just as she had become accustomed to being, following the rhythm of Noor's life with an almost reverent precision. Together, they would begin the morning prayers, Noor's voice low and steady, the words flowing with an unwavering devotion. There was a calmness to these moments that Maya envied, a sense of peace that Noor seemed to find despite the storm that raged within her.

Once the prayers were complete, Noor's day would immediately pick up pace. She would attend to the orphanage, spending hours with the children, listening to their dreams, guiding their hearts. The children were her world, her anchor in the chaos of everything else. Maya would often watch from a distance as Noor sat among them, her smile serene but distant, her eyes shadowed with something that Maya couldn't fully place. It was as though Noor existed in two separate worlds, each pulling her in different directions.

The morning hours were followed by meetings that spanned the rest of the day. Noor would sit at the head of the table, commanding the room with an authority that left no room for argument. Her voice was smooth and confident as she made decisions that shaped the future of her vast empire. There was no room for hesitation, no room for doubt. Noor was a master of strategy, and every move she made was calculated, precise. Maya would sit quietly at her side, handling the details, the logistics, ensuring that everything ran smoothly.

Despite the intense focus Noor applied to her work, there was always a sense of detachment. She never seemed truly present in the moment, as though part of her was always elsewhere. The children, the meetings, the endless tasks—they were simply things to be done, and she did them without question, without fail.

By midday, Noor would retire to her private space, where she would train. It was here that Maya saw the side of Noor that few ever did—the warrior, the woman who could dismantle anyone in a heartbeat. Every movement was fluid, precise, a display of strength and control. Yet there was something darker in the way Noor fought. Her strikes were sharper, the intensity behind each motion growing with each passing day. There was an undercurrent of something dangerous in her practice, something that made Maya uneasy. But Noor never spoke of it, never acknowledged it. The training was just another part of her routine, another way for her to maintain control.

Afternoons were spent with the children once more, followed by more business meetings. Noor would speak to her partners, her investors, always the picture of grace and composure, never revealing even a hint of the storm within. By the time evening came, Noor would retreat to her study, her sanctuary, where the weight of the day seemed to settle on her shoulders.

This was when Maya would find her, always watching from a distance, waiting for the brief moments of vulnerability that Noor allowed herself. Maya had learned to respect Noor's need for solitude, but as the days passed, it became harder to ignore the subtle changes. The increasing aggression in Noor's training, the moments of silence that stretched on too long, the sadness that seemed to seep into everything she did—Maya could feel it all.

Noor's schedule, once a well-oiled machine, was beginning to show signs of strain. There were days when she seemed more withdrawn, her patience thinner than usual. And yet, she never let it show to the world. To everyone around her, Noor remained the picture of poise and perfection, a woman who could do it all, who could manage it all.

But Maya saw the cracks.

It wasn't just the increasing tension in Noor's training or the faint lines of exhaustion under her eyes. It was the silence—the silence that stretched between them, unspoken yet palpable. Noor was withdrawing, not just from her work, but from those who cared about her. Maya knew that Noor was struggling, but she also knew that Noor would never admit it. It was a vulnerability Noor had never shown anyone, and Maya was the only one who had started to notice.

Every evening, when the day's work was done and the children were asleep, Noor would sit in the quiet of her study, her mind racing. The silence in the room was deafening, and for the first time in a long while, it felt suffocating. It was a silence that spoke volumes, a silence that echoed with everything that Noor had yet to confront. The pain of her past, the weight of the empire she had built, the children she cared for—it was all too much, and yet Noor never allowed herself to falter.

Maya watched, helpless. She had never seen Noor so distant, so closed off. And for the first time, Maya began to wonder if she was losing her.

---

The days blurred into one another, each one a mirror of the last. Noor's schedule remained the same—rigid, controlled, unyielding. But beneath the surface, the cracks continued to deepen. Maya noticed how Noor would sometimes pause mid-sentence during a meeting, as though her mind had drifted somewhere far away, and how her eyes would linger on the horizon as if searching for something she couldn't quite find.

Noor had become a woman who lived in two worlds—the one she had created, and the one that haunted her. The world she had created was one of success, of power, of admiration. It was a world that was entirely within her control. But the other world—the one that Maya only glimpsed at—was one of shadows and pain, a world Noor had locked away so deep that even she wasn't sure how to access it.

One afternoon, as Noor stood overlooking the estate from her balcony, Maya caught a glimpse of the distant look in her eyes. It was the look of someone who had lived through something they couldn't forget, something they didn't know how to escape.

Maya hesitated for a moment before walking quietly to Noor's side. She didn't speak right away, allowing the silence to stretch between them. Finally, Noor spoke, her voice low and distant.

"Do you ever wonder, Maya, if it's all worth it?"

The question hung in the air, a question that spoke of doubt, of a weariness that went beyond physical fatigue. Maya glanced at her, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't like Noor to show such vulnerability, to question the world she had built with such precision and care.

Noor turned toward her, her expression unreadable.

Maya's heart tightened. She could see it now—the internal struggle, the battle between the woman who had everything and the woman who had nothing.

Maya took a step forward, her voice soft but steady. "You've built something incredible, Madam Noor. You don't have to bear it all in silence."

Noor's gaze softened, just for a moment, but it was enough. "Only if I knew how to let it go," she whispered.

Maya stood beside Noor, trying to break the tension that had settled like a heavy fog between them. She wasn't used to seeing Noor so... distant. The unshakeable woman who commanded the world with a single glance now seemed like a shadow of herself, lost in some faraway place only she could understand.

Determined to snap her out of it, Maya shifted nervously on her feet. She wasn't sure how to approach this, but she knew she had to do something. Something that could pull Noor back from the abyss of whatever thoughts had clouded her.

"So," Maya began, forcing a lightness into her voice, "I heard Zeyla's latest joke, and I have to share it with you. It's terrible, but it'll probably make you laugh."

Noor didn't even flinch, her gaze still fixed on the horizon, as if the world around her had ceased to exist. Maya cleared her throat, but there was still no response. She had been so used to Noor's sharp wit and ever-present poise that this silence felt... wrong.

"Okay, okay, here's one," Maya continued, a bit too enthusiastically. "Why don't skeletons fight each other?"

Still no reaction. Maya paused, waiting for even the smallest flicker of a smile, but it didn't come. She pressed on, determined to keep the atmosphere light.

"Because they don't have the guts!" Maya said, forcing a playful chuckle.

Nothing. Not even a twitch of an eyebrow. Maya stood there, momentarily stunned by the sheer lack of response. Her words had fallen flat, and the silence stretched between them like a chasm.

She couldn't help but feel a bit foolish. She had never been good at reading Noor's moods—Noor was a fortress, always so composed—but this? This was different. Maya had seen Noor in moments of exhaustion, moments of pain, but never like this. Never so unreachable.

A nervous laugh escaped Maya's lips as she tried again, the awkwardness seeping into her tone. "Okay, that was a terrible one, I admit. How about this? Knock, knock!"

Still no reaction. Maya swallowed hard. Her sense of humor was starting to feel more like a lifeline she was desperately clinging to, but it was slipping out of her fingers. She could feel the weight of Noor's silence pressing down on her.

"Knock, knock..." Maya tried again, her voice faltering. "Who's there?"

The wind rustled through the trees, and Noor's silence was deafening. Maya stood there, dumbfounded. She had no idea what to do anymore. Should she keep going? Should she give up and let Noor be?

Noor turned slightly, her face still unreadable. "Maya," she said, her voice softer than Maya had ever heard it, but still carrying that familiar coldness, "do you really think now is the time for jokes?"

Maya froze. For a moment, she wondered if she had crossed some invisible line. Was she being insensitive? She had just wanted to lighten the mood.

But as the seconds ticked by, Maya realized just how foolish she must have looked, trying to make Noor laugh when the woman's world seemed to be crumbling in a way Maya could barely comprehend.

Maya cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Right, of course... I just thought you might need a... distraction."

Noor's eyes softened just slightly, the smallest flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe amusement—but it was gone before Maya could even be sure.

"You don't need to distract me, Maya," Noor said quietly. "Sometimes... sometimes, there are things that need to be felt. Not avoided."

Maya nodded, feeling the sting of her failed attempts to lighten the moment. She had tried to crack jokes, to bring humor into the room, but all it had done was emphasize the chasm that now lay between them.

"Well, I guess I'm not the best at cheering people up," Maya said, almost embarrassed by her own awkwardness. " I Apologise"

Noor didn't respond right away. She simply looked at Maya, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, the silence stretched long and heavy. Maya couldn't shake the feeling that she had somehow failed—failed to lift Noor up, failed to understand what Noor truly needed in that moment.

But then, as if to soften the tension, Noor's lips curled just the slightest bit upward, a barely perceptible smile that made Maya's heart skip a beat. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"You don't have to be funny, Maya," Noor said, her voice gentle now. "You just have to be here."

Maya's chest tightened, her heart warming at the simplicity of Noor's words. Maybe she hadn't cracked a joke that landed, but she had given Noor something far more valuable—a presence, a quiet understanding.

Maya stood there in the quiet, her earlier attempts at humor forgotten. In the end, sometimes all it took was being there, even if it made her look foolish in the process.

And in that moment, she knew Noor wasn't as unreachable as she had seemed. She was still there, still fighting, and Maya would stand by her, no matter how awkward or out of place she might feel at times.