The golden morning light filtered through the house's stained glass windows, casting soft reflections on the cold marble. In the main room, on a velvet-lined tray, lay two gold necklaces studded with diamonds as clear as the Fez sky at dawn—luxurious gifts purchased by Hassan for his wives.

Layla, his six-year-old daughter, looked at the necklaces with wide-eyed delight. The girl had always been curious, smart, and despite her young age, she already understood much more than adults imagined.

"Which one is for mommy?" Layla asked in a sweet voice, pointing to the most elaborate of the necklaces.

Hassan, sitting with his imposing posture, raised an eyebrow, but before he could answer, Layla continued, serious as an adult disguised as a child:

"Everything a husband gives to one wife... he must give to the other as well." Little Layla said with charm. "But my mother is the first wife, inshalah. So she chooses first."

Hassan didn't answer right away. His gaze fell on Dania entering the room and then on Layla, in silence. The atmosphere became tense, as if each word spoken carried much more than just a choice of jewelry.

Layla didn't hide it: she didn't like Dania. For her, her mother was the only one who deserved her father's affection. The only one who should be by his side. Dania's presence was a mistake that Layla, with her childish wisdom, refused to accept.

And Hassan, despite being married to two women, had never been able to hide that his heart... was still completely with the first.