Zaleekhah wakes up at 3:34 a.m., a time that has come to sym­bol­ize melan­choly and sad­ness for her. The hour feels heavy, as though it pulls her deep­er into her emo­tions. She reach­es for her lap­top, hop­ing to dis­tract her­self, but is imme­di­ate­ly met with dis­tress­ing news about scor­pi­on inva­sions in Egypt. These inva­sions, caused by errat­ic weath­er pat­terns, deep­en the unease in her heart as she process­es the unset­tling image of nature’s hav­oc. In a des­per­ate attempt to escape her spi­ral­ing thoughts, she turns to sleep­ing pills, a tem­po­rary solu­tion to qui­et the storm with­in. Yet, the sad­ness lingers, ampli­fied by the weight of her trou­bled mind, which has been rest­less for some time.

The next moment of emo­tion­al dis­rup­tion comes when Zaleekhah receives a mes­sage from her hus­band, Bri­an, telling her that he is fil­ing for divorce. This mes­sage forces her to revis­it their mar­riage and every­thing that led to this painful moment. Zaleekhah wres­tles with how to approach her fam­i­ly, par­tic­u­lar­ly her uncle, who has been her pil­lar of sup­port for years. The con­trast between the cheer­ful birth­day wish­es flood­ing her inbox and the emo­tion­al void she feels inten­si­fies her sense of iso­la­tion. It’s almost as if life is mov­ing on for every­one else while she’s caught in a moment of grief and uncer­tain­ty. How­ev­er, just as Zaleekhah’s mind becomes over­whelmed, there’s an unex­pect­ed knock at the door. Nen, her vibrant friend, enters, and Zaleekhah is momen­tar­i­ly lift­ed by the warmth and light­ness that Nen always brings into her life. Nen’s thought­ful gift of gin­ger­bread bis­cuits, shaped like ancient Mesopotami­an tablets and inscribed with cuneiform writ­ing, offers an endear­ing and humor­ous respite from the emo­tion­al chaos. The bis­cuits, each rep­re­sent­ing a word, seem to sym­bol­ize the deep­er, often unspo­ken con­nec­tions that Zaleekhah and Nen share.

Their con­ver­sa­tion nat­u­ral­ly flows from the play­ful to the pro­found as Zaleekhah learns about Nen’s tat­too busi­ness, which unique­ly incor­po­rates cuneiform sym­bols in her designs. Nen shares her admi­ra­tion for female fig­ures in his­to­ry, not­ing how their roles and con­tri­bu­tions are often over­looked in main­stream nar­ra­tives. This sparks a mean­ing­ful dis­cus­sion about the under­ap­pre­ci­at­ed strength and resilience of women through­out his­to­ry. Zaleekhah finds her­self open­ing up about her own life’s chal­lenges, reveal­ing that the loss of her par­ents in a flash flood has shaped her per­spec­tive on the world. The trag­ic event left her with a deep con­nec­tion to water, which now feels both a source of solace and a reminder of the past. The depth of their shared con­ver­sa­tion allows Zaleekhah to feel a sense of release, as if her bur­dens have been light­ened by the con­nec­tion she has with Nen.

As the day pro­gress­es, Nen sug­gests that her tat­toos serve as more than just body art—they are a way to tell sto­ries, cap­tur­ing per­son­al his­to­ries and lega­cies through ink. Zaleekhah is moved by the idea that such a phys­i­cal form can be so deeply tied to mean­ing and emo­tion. In these qui­et moments of con­nec­tion, filled with laugh­ter and insight, Zaleekhah finds a spark of hope amidst the emo­tion­al dark­ness she’s been car­ry­ing. Inspired by Nen’s open­ness and their shared bond, Zaleekhah invites her to her birth­day din­ner at her uncle’s house that evening. This sim­ple yet mean­ing­ful ges­ture marks a shift in Zaleekhah’s life—a step away from her iso­la­tion and toward the poten­tial for new com­pan­ion­ship and heal­ing. She’s learn­ing to embrace the con­nec­tions that come her way, even in the midst of life’s ongo­ing strug­gles, as she pre­pares to face the chal­lenges of the future with the sup­port of those who care for her. This chap­ter clos­es on a note of trans­for­ma­tion, with Zaleekhah open­ing her heart to the pos­si­bil­i­ty of change, both in her per­son­al life and her out­look on the world around her.