Chapter Seventy-Five

Unlike in the previous room, this one was more spacious and had more machines surrounding the patient laying on the bed.

Ziza had never seen Faizah look so vulnerable, so frail. More wires than Aliyah had snaked underneath her hospital robe and the machines around her look chaotic. But like her daughter, she too had so many ugly bruises, cuts and had a neck brace around her neck.

Ziza could not believe it was her. Instead of nasal cannula beneath her nose, Faizah had a ventilator breathing for her. Part of her hair—at least the part not covered by the bandages—they’d shaved it off.

It really was a sad sight to look at. Yes, she hated the woman, but seeing her like this made her feel only pity and sadness toward her. Ziza again prayed that Faizah would pull through, no matter how unlikely it seemed.