Not a model, not an actress, but well-mannered, modest. A girl from a respected European family. He’s looking for someone like you, the lawyer said, pushing the documents across the table.

Everything looked solid. Gold seals, international stamps, terms in French and Arabic. But behind all this formality, there was an essence that she understood instantly.

She was given away for money. For the sake of business. For the sake of salvation.

For the sake of the future. She protested, cried, screamed, said she would run away, but the decision had already been made. It would be a purely symbolic marriage, my father insisted.

He’s old, he just needs company. She wanted to believe. Everything was processed through international lawyers.