Narin’s jour­ney takes a dark and painful turn in 2014, as she is force­ful­ly tak­en from her home and trans­port­ed along with oth­er women and chil­dren in a truck head­ing toward Mosul. Over­come by an over­whelm­ing sense of fear, help­less­ness, and con­fu­sion, Nar­in finds her­self strug­gling to cope with the chaot­ic and bru­tal sit­u­a­tion unfold­ing around her. How­ev­er, as they jour­ney through unfa­mil­iar lands, mem­o­ries of her grandmother’s teach­ings about wild herbs begin to sur­face, offer­ing her a brief but pow­er­ful con­nec­tion to the past. These mem­o­ries, filled with warmth and the sim­plic­i­ty of life before this night­mare, pro­vide Nar­in with a fleet­ing sense of com­fort in the face of an uncer­tain and per­ilous future. Her grand­moth­er’s wis­dom and the small details of her life—like the herbs she once taught Nar­in to recognize—anchor her in this moment of despair, help­ing her hold onto the small frag­ments of her past.

While grap­pling with her cap­tors, Nar­in finds her­self reflect­ing on a les­son her grand­moth­er taught her: the dual­i­ty of good and evil with­in human nature. This con­cept, so care­ful­ly impart­ed to her over the years, now takes on new mean­ing as she wit­ness­es the atroc­i­ties around her. The sto­ries she was told as a child about evil fig­ures who at least rec­og­nized the harm they inflict­ed begin to blur with the hor­ri­fy­ing real­i­ty she faces—those com­mit­ting atroc­i­ties now often view them­selves as right­eous and divine­ly jus­ti­fied. The ques­tion of how any­one could jus­ti­fy caus­ing suf­fer­ing in the name of faith haunts Nar­in, leav­ing her con­fused and trou­bled. Her grandmother’s words urge her to seek light in even the dark­est times, but as Nar­in nav­i­gates through the bru­tal chaos of her present, she finds her­self strug­gling to find that light, con­sumed by the dark real­i­ty of her cap­tiv­i­ty.

As Nar­in and the oth­er cap­tives arrive in Mosul, the extent of the destruc­tion and vio­lence fac­ing her com­mu­ni­ty becomes impos­si­ble to ignore. Narin’s fear grows as she watch­es a coor­di­nat­ed assault on her peo­ple, where mil­i­tants ruth­less­ly destroy homes, fam­i­lies, and lives in the name of their cause. These attacks hit Nar­in per­son­al­ly, as she rec­og­nizes some of the men lead­ing these bru­tal acts, famil­iar faces from her life before the vio­lence erupt­ed. With­in the con­fines of the build­ing where the cap­tives are held, Nar­in is forced to wit­ness the des­per­ate cries and pleas of those around her. As she is cho­sen for trans­la­tion duties, she hears hor­rif­ic accu­sa­tions about her people’s so-called betray­al, and she is pres­sured to renounce her faith and accept the role of a “law­ful wife” to one of the mil­i­tants. Despite the tor­ment, Nar­in cries out for her grand­moth­er in a final act of resis­tance, a raw expres­sion of her unwill­ing­ness to suc­cumb to the hor­rors sur­round­ing her.

The phys­i­cal and emo­tion­al toll on Nar­in becomes unbear­able as she is struck repeat­ed­ly by her cap­tors. She is dragged across the cold, unfor­giv­ing floor until she los­es con­scious­ness, the pain over­whelm­ing her. When she wakes, she comes to under­stand the full hor­ror of her cap­tiv­i­ty. As a young girl, Nar­in is seen as an easy tar­get for exploita­tion and abuse, and her ter­ror deep­ens as she real­izes the grav­i­ty of her sit­u­a­tion. Despite her over­whelm­ing fear, Nar­in refus­es to com­ply with the mil­i­tants’ demands, even as the weight of their cru­el­ty and her own cir­cum­stances con­tin­ue to press down on her.

In the midst of her suf­fer­ing, Nar­in meets Salma, a woman who once knew her grand­moth­er, and they find solace in each other’s pres­ence. They share mem­o­ries of the past, and for a brief moment, the bonds of friend­ship and famil­iar­i­ty pro­vide some com­fort in their dark and har­row­ing real­i­ty. How­ev­er, even as Salma tries to pro­tect Nar­in from fur­ther harm, the dan­ger they face remains con­stant and ever-present. The commander’s increas­ing­ly harsh demands con­tin­ue to loom over them, a reminder that the safe­ty they seek is elu­sive and frag­ile. Salma’s pro­tec­tive instincts dri­ve her to shield Nar­in from the bru­tal vio­lence around them, but the omnipresent threat of exploita­tion and vio­lence con­tin­ues to haunt them, leav­ing both women grasp­ing for any shred of safe­ty or hope amidst the cru­el­ty they endure.