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She didn’t remember much, but eleven years ago, on that fateful day, she got separated from her father. He had gone into the crowd and never returned for her. Desperate and scared, she searched for him near the bakery where they had last been together, but he was gone.

For days, she sat by the side of the street in front of that bakery, waiting for her father to come back.

She had no guardian to provide her shelter, no one to protect her from the harshness of the world.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and seasons came and went.

With no one to care for her and no way to survive, she began stealing food to fill her empty stomach.

Despite the passing years, she still roamed around that bakery, clinging to the faint hope that her father would someday return and take her home. She held onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the only thing keeping her alive.

Once treated like a princess in her own home, she had become a homeless girl, seen by others as nothing more than a thief.

But what choice had she been given? She wasn’t at fault; survival had forced her hand.

If people wanted to call her a thief, she would accept it, but they were cruel to her, never showing her an ounce of sympathy.

Then she met Oman. From the moment she laid eyes on him, she was drawn to him.

She admired him instantly, a feeling that took her by surprise.

She didn’t understand why, but one glance at him sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Desperately, she wanted his attention, yearning for something she couldn’t quite name.

Eventually, it became a habit for the girl to visit Fatima regularly to eat homemade cuisine, which Fatima made especially for her.

Ecstasy could be seen on her little face while chewing those fabulous dishes she had never tasted before.

Fatima and the girl grew close over the past month, developing a bond akin to that of a mother and her child. Fatima, who had no children of her own, found a deep sense of fulfillment in their relationship.

However, Oman harbored concerns about the future. He knew that Fatima would eventually have to return to her husband, Khalid, who was unlikely to accept the girl. Khalid’s behavior toward Fatima was already intolerable, But Fatima never shared her grief with her brother.

Fatima took care of her. Besides, this little girl looked so innocent that whoever looked at her was easily wrapped around her tiny finger.

"I have to give you a name; it's really hard to call you sometimes." The girl smiled at this. She was munching on an apple, and her cheeks matched the colour of the apple.

She has a beautiful face without a name and a beautiful smile to hide her pain. Fatima's heart sank thinking about her smile.

"Oh, my baby. Ok, then what about Tara?" Fatima saw the confused expression covering her small face. The girl was thinking about the meaning behind this name.

"What you don't like it? It means star. You know, when I was expecting a child, I decided if I had a daughter, then I would give this name to her," Fatima said, looking into her hazel eyes.

Fatima's eyes became moist as she thought about her past. She was so happy about her pregnancy, but later on, after her miscarriage, she learned she couldn't bear a child in her womb again because her eggs were too weak to produce a fetus.

After that, khalid started to blame her for everything and became abusive.

She didn't tell Oman anything because she knew if her brother knew about her condition, he wouldn't let her stay with her husband. In their society, a woman is nothing without her husband, so she kept quiet.

Fatima felt little hands on her face, whipping her tears away. She looked at the little angel in front of her, who shook her head, telling her not to cry. Fatima smiled, tears still in her eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't cry. Anyway, do you like your name?" She nodded continuously in return and giggled a little.

"My little Tara," Fatima pulled her into a tight, warm hug.

Tara was roaming around in the streets. Yes, Tara, as she has a name now. She felt happy for the first time in a long time. Fatima was really nice to her; she bathed her herself and made her wear new clothes. She never knew she could also look this beautiful.

She felt happy today because she never had her mother's love. Her mother died while giving birth to her. Only her nanny used to take care of her, who was so strict.

She twirled and spun gracefully, looking at her dress, and hummed to herself. Her skin was highlighting as the dirt was removed.

Oman saw her makeover, but his face was emotionless. But those dark orbs of his spoke so many words. He took in her features like she was an unusual specimen. There was something dangerous about him.

Whereas, Oman was not quite sure of himself when her looks and smile started to affect him. He tried to look at her as a niece, as she was too young. But he had been failing miserably. He thought something was wrong with his brain.

She smiled, looking into his dark orbs, expecting a compliment from his side.

Instead; Uncaring, he walked out of the house. He tore her heart into peaces and the smile she wore suddenly dropped.

He didn't like my dress? She became so gloomy.

When she first saw Oman in the bazaar, she was mesmerised by him and chased him. After some days, she again saw him and again ended up following him. This time, he knew he was being followed around by this little girl.

She looked so timid and hungry. She had only joints and limbs.

Out of pity, he purchased some dates and gave them to her.

Never once did someone give her anything; instead, they shooed her away.

But Oman didn't even once look at her with disgust. There was a strange warmth in his eyes, which attracted her toward him.

It seemed like he was the one; she had been waiting for so long.

Her protector was found that day.

Because of him, she met Fatima. She wanted to stay close to her, but her hope to return home never let her stay away from one area, which was around that bakery shop.

She became restless when she remembered Fatima telling her that Oman would have to go to another country, and that's why he had bought a camel. She doesn't want him to go away and disappear like he never existed, just like her father. She will convince him to stay here with Fatima and her.

It was already dark, and the street was unusually deserted. She needs to reach her secret place, the terrace of a shop where she sleeps at night.

She felt a slight prickling at the back of her neck. Being followed herself, she recognised the situation. On that, only moonlight was illuminating the street.

She stopped in her tracks and glanced behind her. Some native men were walking behind her. She got scared and hid her face with her headscarf.

She was chased across the streets by those Arab men. A strange feeling went through her.

There was a sinister air of deliberation in the way those men were following her. Laughing from time to time at something.

She felt some ruffles behind her, and a figure came in front of her, and she gasped in surprise.

"Hey sweetie. Why are you in a rush?"

He brought his hand up to touch her cheek. Immediately, she pushed his hand away and stepped away from him, making her back hit the wall behind her. The man turned to look at his friends.

"Yuris, look at what I've got here," he said as he called a middle-aged man. All the men reeked of alcohol.

She heard women gossiping about how men kidnap children and sell them to be slaves in the modern cities.

It was worse than she could expect, as she was so innocent to know about their evil and dark intentions for her body.

When they saw the beautiful teen girl, their eyes shone with lust. In the middle of the empty street, there was no one except Tara and those four monsters.

"Why are you looking scared, darling? You are beautiful. Where are your parents?" one of them asked to confirm if she was alone or if she was with someone.

A man named Yuris came, a smug smile falling on his hard face as he looked up and down, checking out her facial features. Finding it really pleasing to his eyes, he winked at his friends.

They sensed from her state that she was alone. If there was someone, she would have called or shouted for them.

Tara was scared to her core and shocked at the same time. Thinking about the consequences was making her shiver with fear.

Yuris tried touching her.

"No," she muttered huskily.

She looked around, scanning the area. She was hoping someone would come there. She thought she could get away from there.

She tried walking away.

Yuris came forward, leaning towards her, flung a pair of powerful arms around her, and with a jerk swung her towards him.

All the men laughed like maniacs. Yuris snaked his head into the crook of her neck.

"Where were you trying to go, love?" he squeezed her waist painfully.

His movements had been so quick that she was unprepared and unable to resist. For a moment, she was stunned.

When her senses came back, she struggled wildly. But later, she stifled in the thick folds of the yuris's robe, against which her face was crushed.

He held her in a grip that seemed to be slowly suffocating her, whereas her struggles were futile.

"Leave me, no," she said, shouting this time. Then she screamed at the top of her lungs.

To make her stop screaming, he slapped her hard and with full force. Her small frame fell on a muddy street, making her new clothes dirty. A blur of colours whirled around in her head. She tried to watch them clearly, but Bur Yuris was impatient and pulled her upward by her wrist.

She jolted when she felt a hand on her mouth, making her voice muffle.

Her mind felt jarred. She was unable to frame any thoughts coherently.

A fat man came and started roaming his hands on her shoulder and then on her chest.

She was chocking with disgust. She didn't even know what these touches meant. She thought maybe they were examining her to see if she was capable of becoming a slave.

"Salim, let's take her elsewhere before someone comes here," Yuris said with his hard voice.

Yuris lifted her like a leaf and carried her on his shoulder like a sack. Her teeny fists hit on his back. She was trying really hard to pull out of his strong hold. Yuris smacked her ass hard to make her stop struggling.

In front of his strength, she was a small girl who was physically weak. But she strove to free herself.

They took her to an abandoned house. It was owned by one of those Arab men. She thought those men were going to murder her.

But she didn't know worse could happen beyond her imagination.