Chapter Five: The First Escape

The market was alive with the sounds of haggling vendors, clattering carts, and the occasional squawk of a chicken being carried off for dinner. Syra clung to Nasreen's hand as they navigated the narrow aisles, her wide eyes taking in the vibrant colors and unfamiliar smells. At ten years old, she was still small enough to feel overwhelmed by the chaos, but her curiosity always won out.

"Mama, can we buy some lychees?" Syra asked, pointing to a stall piled high with the pink, spiky fruit.

Nasreen smiled down at her daughter, her heart swelling with affection. "Of course, *azizam*. But only a few, okay? We still need to buy rice and vegetables."

As Nasreen negotiated with the vendor, Syra wandered a few steps away, her attention caught by a display of handmade dolls. They were dressed in traditional Chinese outfits, their tiny faces painted with delicate features. Syra reached out to touch one, her fingers brushing against the smooth fabric.

"You like that one?" a voice asked, too close for comfort.

Syra turned and saw a man standing behind her, his smile wide but his eyes cold. He was older, with greasy hair and a stained shirt, and he smelled faintly of alcohol. Syra took a step back, her heart pounding.

"It's pretty," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man leaned closer, his breath hot on her face. "You're pretty too. Prettier than any doll."

Syra's stomach churned, and she looked around frantically for Nasreen. Her mother was still at the lychee stall, her back turned. Syra opened her mouth to call out, but no sound came.

Before she could react, the man reached out and grabbed her arm, his grip tight and painful. "Why don't you come with me? I'll buy you whatever you want."

Syra's eyes filled with tears, and she tried to pull away, but the man's grip only tightened. Just as panic threatened to overwhelm her, Nasreen appeared like a storm, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Get your hands off my daughter!" Nasreen shouted, her voice cutting through the noise of the market like a knife.

The man hesitated, his grip loosening slightly. Nasreen didn't wait for him to let go. She stepped forward and slapped his hand away, her movements swift and precise. Then she placed herself between him and Syra, her body a shield.

"If you ever come near her again, I'll make sure you regret it," Nasreen said, her voice low and dangerous.

The man's smile faltered, and he took a step back, muttering something under his breath before disappearing into the crowd. Nasreen watched him go, her chest heaving with anger, before turning to Syra.

"Are you okay, *azizam*?" she asked, her voice softening as she knelt to check Syra for any signs of harm.

Syra nodded, though her hands were still trembling. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to wander off."

Nasreen pulled her into a tight embrace, her heart aching with a mixture of relief and fear. "It's not your fault, Syra. But you must always stay close to me, especially in places like this. Not everyone has good intentions."

Syra buried her face in Nasreen's shoulder, her small body shaking with silent sobs. Nasreen held her tightly, her mind racing with thoughts of how to protect her daughter in a world that seemed determined to harm her.

---

That evening, as Syra lay in bed, Nasreen sat beside her, stroking her hair and humming a Persian lullaby. Syra's eyes were heavy with sleep, but she clung to her mother's hand, unwilling to let go.

"Mama," Syra whispered, her voice barely audible, "why do people look at me like that?"

Nasreen's hand stilled, and she took a deep breath before answering. "Because you are beautiful, *azizam*. And sometimes, people don't know how to handle beauty. They either want to possess it or destroy it."

Syra frowned, her young mind struggling to understand. "But I don't want to be beautiful if it makes people mean."

Nasreen's heart broke at the words, and she leaned down to kiss Syra's forehead. "Your beauty is a part of you, but it's not all of you. You are also kind, and smart, and strong. Never let anyone make you feel like you are only your beauty."

Syra nodded, though her eyes were already closing. Nasreen stayed by her side until she was sure her daughter was asleep, then slipped out of the room, her heart heavy with worry.

In the kitchen, Li Wei was waiting, his face drawn with concern. "Is she okay?"

Nasreen nodded, though her hands were clenched into fists. "For now. But Wei, I'm scared. The world is not kind to girls like her."

Li Wei sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. But we'll protect her. We'll teach her to be strong, to stand up for herself."

Nasreen's eyes filled with tears, and she leaned into her husband's embrace. "It's not enough, Wei. We can't always be there to protect her."

Li Wei held her tightly, his own fear mirrored in his eyes. "Then we'll teach her to protect herself. For her sake, we have to."

---

As the night deepened, the apartment was filled with the soft sounds of sleep. But Nasreen lay awake, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. She knew that this was only the beginning, that Syra's beauty would continue to attract both admiration and danger. And she vowed silently that she would do whatever it took to keep her daughter safe, no matter the cost.