After the prayer, Layla tugged his sleeve. “Grandfather,” she said. “Now you have two voices—yours and mine.”
Yusuf opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He pointed to his throat and shook his head, tears pricking his eyes.
And Yusuf smiled, knowing that Al-Fatiha had been revealed not just as a prayer, but as a promise: “Show us the straight path” —a path you never walk alone.
Layla didn’t leave. She sat at his feet. “Then just move your lips,” she said. “I will watch.”