His face hardened when he sensed his brother was about to start another argument in front of his daughter. "No."  

"So now you're just standing there staring at me? Wait a little longer, and you'll step on my mother’s grave with those ugly shoes of yours! Addayiya, isn’t your grandmother dead? Or is it Anwar who doesn’t give her the respect she deserves in this house?"  

Hearing what Abbu said, Addayiya burst into tears. And honestly, Umar, from the beginning, I warned your father—I never supported his marriage to that reckless girl. But what can I do? His heart was set on her. I just hope he realizes his mistake before it's too late. He left me with nothing but pain, while his mother enjoyed her marriage, and I was left with heartache. Allah is the King.  

Anger flared in Lahab’s chest like a storm. "Oh, so you’re jealous because you didn’t get married? Or is it because no man wants you that you’re now trying to chase your own husband away?"  

Addayiya’s crying intensified. "I should have married Umar instead, or even Maryam! At least last year, your mother was still alive, you shameless old woman!"  

The others in the room laughed, but Abbu didn’t. His anger only grew—he was losing control, and as usual, things were escalating into another fight. And Lahab, as always, was at the center of it, stealing the show with his outbursts.  

"Habba, for Allah’s sake, Addayiya! Is this how you speak in front of children?"  

Hearing Abbu’s words, Addayiya’s face twisted in bitterness. She pushed her plate away, wiping her tears.  

Lahab glared at Abbu. "What’s the point of all this? Won’t you even let this old woman rest? Or do you enjoy seeing her suffer?"  

"Be patient, Yaya. I won’t say anything else."  

"Shut your mouth, Lahab! And since when do you wear uniforms? I don’t even recognize you in those clothes!"  

Before Lahab could respond, Umaimah stepped in. "Habba, Abbu! Where is this coming from? You’re used to Small Uncle’s behavior—just let it go. Your children don’t disrespect you, so why are you causing yourself unnecessary pain over him?"  

Lahab’s face darkened. He pointed sharply at her. "Wallahi, Umaimah, from today onward, if anyone speaks to me and you dare interfere again, you’re nothing but a windbag!"  

Shareef stood up abruptly. "Enough! Wallahi, we’re tired of your nonsense in this house, Lahab!"  

Lahab’s rage surged like a wildfire, as if he could overpower them all. "Fine! Then treat me like a poor lawyer if that’s what you want!"  

Shareef pushed his dining chair back, about to stand, but Abbu motioned for him to sit. "Go back to your seat, Shareef. Lahab is your elder brother—respect him!"  

"Respect? He’s the one who started disrespecting me first! And with all due respect, Uncle, after the way you spoke, even your mother would be ashamed of your lack of decency. It’s a disgrace!"  

The tension was so thick that Lahab nearly lunged at Shareef, but he held back at the last moment when they heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway. There was no mistaking who it was.  

"Allahu Akbar—Glory be to Allah."  

Even their footsteps were identical. The moment you saw them, you wouldn’t need anyone to tell you—you’d answer yourself with twins. There was no difference between them except two things: their demeanor and their hairstyle. But beyond that, even within the household, no one could tell them apart. And outsiders? They had no chance.