Amina finished the recitation and gently blew over Leyla, a traditional practice symbolizing the transfer of the blessing. Silence reclaimed the room, broken only by the soft rain against the window.
The small room smelled of dried lavender and old paper. Outside, a storm was brewing, the wind howling against the wooden shutters like a wild animal trying to find a way inside. Leyla sat on the floor, her back against the wall, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. Her heart was racing at a terrifying speed, a familiar, suffocating panic tightening its grip around her throat. Amina finished the recitation and gently blew over
She recited Ayat al-Kursi, the Verse of the Throne. At first, the words seemed to bounce off the wall of panic Leyla had built around herself. But Amina did not stop. She repeated the verses, her voice growing stronger, filled with absolute conviction and faith. "La ilaha illa Huwal-Hayyul-Qayyum..." Outside, a storm was brewing, the wind howling
Amina opened a small, leather-bound book and began to recite. She was performing Ruqyah, the practice of spiritual healing through the recitation of the Quran. She chose specific verses known for bringing tranquility and dispelling the darkest of fears. She recited Ayat al-Kursi, the Verse of the Throne
"Bismillahir-Rahmanir-Rahim," Amina started, her voice melodic and steady.