My dear Baba,

The light of my life, the wind on my cheeks,

If you read this letter, I am gone. I embarked on Ibn Amar’s ship and I am headed to Faz. I do know that you must feel betrayed and angry but let me create my path. I do not wish to be the shadow of Mama or you. I wish to be my own person.

I will strive to become the best chef of Faz. No, of the world.

Your foolish daughter, Ayyur.

The old man gripped the parchment with force he never thought he had. His eyes read again and again those words, feeling his heart stretching and bursting into endless pain. His sweet child, his daughter, the first of his five girls.. Gone. Like that.

When did she leave? Just hours before, she was kissing his forehead and softly brushing his grey hair, telling him how much she loved him. How foolish of him! He should have known. He should have known at that very moment that she was leaving, going far away, in a place where he couldn’t reach her, he couldn’t protect her..

“Just like your mother, you are leaving me too.” He cooed in a painful cry, holding the parchment against his forehead. “Ayyur my sweet bird.. Please, wherever you are, be safe.”