Mina woke up in the most magnificent room she had ever seen. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there—all she recalled was jumping out of the basket. If she had been caught, what was she doing here? Surely, the guards would have locked her in a cell. She feared the consequences she might face. The blue Egyptian cotton sheets, the purple damask bedding that smelled of jasmine, could only mean one thing: she was back in slavery, this time under a master of high status.

She glanced at her left shoulder, where beneath her sleeve lay a mark that always betrayed her. A crossed circle burned into her skin—a symbol of her slavery, given by a stranger she had never met. It felt more like a birthmark than a scar, as she couldn’t remember a time without it. Mina heard voices arguing outside after a door slammed shut.

Light footsteps approached the door across the room. Quickly, she shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. The door opened, and the light in the room brightened. The argument grew louder.

"Munir, this is not a good idea—you know that!" a strong, displeased voice said.

"But Khalid, have a heart!" came a softer, gentler response.

"Have a heart, you say? She’s a slave with a master, remember that!" the strong voice boomed.

"The poor child can barely lift a finger, and you want me to send her away?" Munir challenged.

"You know how the king will react to this. You’re breaking the laws for a worthless slave child?" Khalid angrily retorted.

"The king will only know what he needs to nothing more," Munir assured him.

"Oh, so you have a plan then? Because I guarantee those traders will come seeking compensation for their merchandise. And if her master is still alive, they will come to claim their property," Khalid warned.

"I do have a plan, and I know what I’m doing," Munir replied coldly, punctuating his words with a fist pounding the table.

"Okay, maalim, I just hope you don’t take this too far."

"Don’t worry, Khalid. If we’re caught, I’ll take all the blame. I give you my word," Munir said, his voice calm again.

Khalid sighed, giving in. "So, tell me this plan of yours."

The door closed, and the footsteps drew closer. Mina heard the creak of a stool beside her bed, and the smell of food filled the air.

"It’s okay, dear. I won’t bite," a small voice said kindly.

Mina slowly opened her eyes to see a young woman smiling at her. Though she looked like a teenage girl, her wide grin made her seem older.

"So, you’re finally awake?" the girl asked.

"Where am I? How did I get here?" Mina rubbed her eyes, pretending to adjust to the light from the gas lamp in the room.

"It’s not my place to tell you everything, but you’re in good hands," the girl replied, placing a bowl of porridge on Mina’s lap. She reached to touch Mina’s forehead, but Mina flinched and pulled away. "Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you. I just want to check your temperature."

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The girl shifted her hand in greeting. "My name is Leila. What’s yours?"

Mina hesitated, but hunger overpowered her caution. "Mina," she whispered softly.

"That’s a beautiful name. I like it!" Leila said warmly. "Well then, Mina, let’s eat, shall we?"

Leila spooned the porridge and fed her. Mina was famished, and within moments, she had finished two whole bowls. Leila tried to touch her forehead again, and this time Mina allowed it. As soon as Leila’s bony hand touched her sweaty head, her eyes widened.

"Oh dear, it seems you still have a fever," Leila said, concern softening her face. "Rest for now. I’ll inform the physician." She collected the empty bowls and left the room. The last thing Mina saw was Leila’s thin silhouette before she drifted back to sleep.

When she awoke again, the room, once vast, felt smaller. Two men stood at the foot of the bed—one in his mid-forties, the other closer to Leila’s age. Both wore lavish yellow *jubbehs*, the older man also draped in an emerald caftan. Leila sat nearby on the same stool, her brown dress and white scarf doing little to conceal her tired face, strands of brown hair framing her eyes.

The men stopped whispering as Mina stirred. The older man addressed her.

"How are you feeling?"

Mina tensed, but Leila took her hand. "It’s okay, Mina. These are my friends—you can trust them."

Leila looked to the men for support. "Oh yes, we’re Leila’s friends. We mean you no harm," the older man said. "Mina, is it? I’m Munir, a physician, and this is my student, Khalid." Munir jabbed Khalid in the chest, causing him to stumble a bit.

"Don’t let our big frames fool you—we’re like old date trees. Our spikes might look dangerous, but our hearts are as sweet as the fruit," Khalid joked, winking mischievously.

Leila laughed, and even Mina managed a small smile.

"Stupid boy," Munir muttered. "Sorry, Mina. This one lost his manners long ago."

Munir moved to the other side of the bed. "How do you feel?"

Mina hesitated, her voice hoarse. "Better."

"Good," Munir said, his worried expression easing. "Your fever has gone down. You’ll feel much better soon."

He smiled gently. "Freshen up and have some breakfast. Then we’ll talk. Leila will help you." Munir turned to a small wooden closet under one of the windows and pulled out a set of clothes. "Here, you’ll find something to wear. We’ll leave you now." He motioned for Khalid to follow him.

Instead of leaving, Khalid leaned in and whispered, "Don’t worry, little slave. You’re in good hands." He ignored Leila’s disapproving glare and closed the door behind him.

Mina, confused by the comment about being a tree, smiled politely, not wanting to seem rude.

"Leila," she said, turning to the woman rummaging through the closet.

"Yes?" Leila paused and looked over her shoulder.

"How can a person be a tree?"

Leila laughed loudly, her tired face lighting up. "Silly girl, it’s just a joke—a metaphor, as the wise say."

Mina opened her mouth, wanting to ask more, but Leila interrupted. "Don’t worry. Only the learned understand such things." She rolled her eyes. "Khalid was just bragging, as always."

"And are you not learned?" Mina asked, now fully alert.

Leila rummaged through the drawers, tossing clothes aside as she spoke. "Well, it’s complicated. My aab was once a servant to a scholar. His children, especially his daughter Annissa, were very kind. They taught me a lot. My aab didn’t like me being around them, though. He eventually quit, saying that girls were only a ‘beautiful burden’ for investment."

She let out a breath and held up a brown chalvar for Mina to see. "We must hurry. The physician will call on you soon."

"Please, tell me more," Mina begged.

"Maybe later. Munir is impatient," Leila replied with a smile.

"You mean the tree?" Mina teased, and they both laughed.

"I see you’re clever. I think we’ll get along very well," Leila said warmly. "But be careful—cleverness can be both a blessing and a curse."

Mina, though illiterate, thought Leila was the wisest person she had ever met. When Leila commented on the clothes being inappropriate, Mina agreed without question. As they continued sorting through the garments, Mina suddenly remembered her yellowed dress and, more importantly, her pendant.

"My necklace..." she murmured absentmindedly, her fingers tracing the empty spot on her neck where it once hung.

"What is it, Mina?" Leila asked, looking up from the pile of clothes.

"My necklace... where is it?" Mina’s face grew tense, worry creasing her brow.

"A necklace? You didn’t have one when they brought you in," Leila replied, confused. She stood up and walked to the door. "Wait here. I think I have a dress that might fit you."

Mina nodded absentmindedly, her mind racing to recall where she could have lost the pendant, as Leila left the room.