The library smelled faintly of dust and paper, the kind of place that made me feel safe. I sat at one of the long wooden tables, laptop open, papers scattered. Beside me, Aira leaned forward, scrolling through her phone with a look of triumph.
“Look at this one,” she whispered, sliding the screen toward me. “A scholarship in Turkey — full ride for international students in social sciences. You’d be perfect for it.”
My heart gave a little leap as I read the details. Tuition covered. Living expenses. A chance at a new life.
I scribbled the website down, my hand shaking slightly with excitement. “Do you think… do you think I’d actually get in?”
Aira rolled her eyes. “Hiba, you’re one of the smartest people in our department. If anyone deserves this, it’s you. Besides, you’re actually serious about your work. Half our friends are more focused on boyfriends than books.”
I smirked at that, though the words stirred thoughts I rarely said aloud.
“I mean, I could have a boyfriend if I wanted. It’s not like it’s hard. But what’s the point? Relationships never last. At the end of the day, someone always compromises until there’s nothing left of them.”
Aira tilted her head, studying me. “Not everyone’s like your parents, Hiba.”
“Maybe not. But I’ve seen enough to know I won’t gamble my life on a man’s promises. I’d rather gamble it on myself.”
The words felt bold, even to me. They settled deep, as though I’d just confessed a secret truth.
We spent the next two hours scrolling through scholarships in Turkey, the UK, Malaysia, and beyond. Every option we found was a tiny window opening, a reminder that life didn’t have to be limited to these suffocating walls I called home.
As I packed up to leave, Aira touched my arm. “Promise me you’ll apply. Don’t let them cage you here.”
I met her eyes and nodded. “I promise.”
But as I stepped into the evening light outside the library, the thought of telling Baba or Nargis tugged at me. I already knew what they would say.
And still, the dream burned inside me — stubborn, untouchable, mine.
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