adoptive 3

Chapter 3 

“Not bad, not bad,” he said with a grin, showing off his tobacco-stained teeth. “Layla’s all grown up. She looks strong. She’ll definitely give me a son.” 

The memory was from a few years ago. 

Jury,” the judge said, “please cast your vote on the first charge.” 

“What are you doing?” my mother, Nasrin, shrieked. “She won’t be worth as much if her 

face is scarred!” 

She had every reason to be afraid. 

My father grabbed a heavy brass ornament and hurled it at me. It struck my forehead, and 

blood started to flow. 

“I knew it! She finally snapped!” 

Panic seized me as they drove me to our old family home. There, I met my cousin, Omar Hassan, a man in his late thirties. 

“They aren’t human! They’re the ones who should be on trial!” 

The screen lit up again. 

My parents had excitedly told me they were taking me on a vacation to Europe to celebrate a new job I’d found. 

The door opened and my cousin Omar walked in. 

My father’s face darkened. “You’re getting out of control!” 

His greasy gaze slithered over my body, making my skin crawl. 

Farid saw the horror on my face and spat. “What, you’re not happy to be back in your 

own country?” 

A chill went down my spine. They knew that a lack of education would ruin my future, yet they were the ones who forced me to give up Stanford. 

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“Are they really her parents? They treat her worse than an enemy!” 

Every single vote was for my innocence. 

The chat erupted again. 

I actually believed them. But when the plane landed, I saw the familiar, dusty landscape of 

Kabul. 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All the years of suppressed rage exploded. 

My mother grabbed me. “You didn’t go to college, and you don’t have a good job. Omar’s family is rich and powerful. Marrying him is a blessing! Why would we ever hurt you?” 

“$300k? That’s a down payment on a house in California!” 

“If she’s not willing, why did you bring me here?” he said impatiently. “Look, I already gave you the three hundred thousand dollars. I’m taking a wife home today, one way or 

another.” 

I glanced at Zahra. She looked calm, but the slight tremor in her fingers betrayed her fear. 

“Are you insane?” I screamed. “I’m your daughter! Not a piece of property!” 

“Yeah. No way she stayed that weak forever.” 

Then came my parents’ next accusation. “The defendant is accused of stealing a three-hundred-thousand-dollar dowry and deserting her family in disgrace.” 

“Okay, her family are jerks, but I bet she did something later.” 

e fight back so fiercely, Omar’s face soured. 

lounged on the sofa. My mom brewed tea beside me. Zahra, in a new dress, 

tched from the side like a spectator. 

Seeing the public opinion shift back in his favor, my father, Farid, sat up straighter. 

I realized I’d been tricked and turned to run. 

I froze. Her momentary concern wasn’t for me, but for my “price.” 

Everything stopped. Only the live chat on the screen kept scrolling. 

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3 Chapter 3 

My mother eagerly pulled him to the sofa, then pushed me in front of him, turning me in a 

circle. “My daughter looks thin, but she’s healthy. Look at those hips. She’s built for 

bearing children.”