Four Days later, I pull my car in front of the Lawyer's office. She looks at me startled by my unexpected appearance as I get inside her place.

I breathe in a massive lungful of air, filling my lungs to the absolute brink before I release it with a heavy sigh, "My heart is aching, I don't want to continue with this lawsuit."

". . . and let them pardon and overlook. Would you not like that Allah should forgive you? And Allah is Forgiving and Merciful." [Quran 24:22]

This beautiful ayah has been in my mind for the last four days as I debated whether to continue with the lawsuit or not. Allah SWT created us, and He knows what is best for me. I seem to forget sometimes that Allah SWT knows it can be tough to really forgive someone who hurt you, and this ayah contains the greatest motivation to push to forgive; it's Allah's forgiveness.

She looks at me shock is apparent in her expression as I pace in the room, "F-firstly clam down, second let's not make decisions we will regret later on and finally What drove you into that conclusion?" She looks at me confusion visible in her words.

"Even after everything my father did, Diab is still my father even if I don't like it. Also, even if what he did was abusive. He is my father. Mr Black is my mother's father. my grandfather. Mrs Chamberlain was taking care of me all my life, and the professor is my husband, the father of my children. What will happen in the future for my girls, they will be tormented because of what I did to thier father, and they will hate me for it. They will hate me for what I will be doing to their father who they adore." I contemplated not only to demonstrate to her but also for me.

Adila began after she took a long breath, "You know what they did can easily be categorized under oppression. And the Quran has powerful condemnations for oppressors,"

"Holy Quran (16:90) Indeed, Allah orders justice and good conduct and giving to relatives and forbids immorality and bad conduct and oppression. He admonishes you that perhaps you will be reminded," She explains further.

"This aya actually implies that us, the Muslim community, are responsible to "fight" oppression when we see it, whether we see it coming from a whole people, as per the aya above, or from individuals such as parents toward their children or grandparents or a caregiver."

And [all] faces will be humbled before the Ever-Living, the Sustainer of existence. And he will have failed who carries injustice. Holy Quran

This aya is more forceful in Arabic as I remember reading it. The words for "failed" is a much more total catastrophic failure than this word in English conveys. It means whoever committed an injustice in this life and did nothing to amend it or repent, will find in the Hereafter a total catastrophic failure which means, of course, hell, and separation from Allah and His mercy. So if I did not find justice in this life, there certainly would be justice in the next.

The Lawyer, Adila, persuaded, "Wahaj, you are a strong Muslim woman. We have already moved forward with a restraining order against your father, Mrs Chamberlain, and Mr Black so that they won't come near the girls. and Mrs Chamberlain estranged daughter, your former therapist is ready to confirm and confess everything her mother did that led to her becoming estranged with her." She stopped me from walking as she held my forearm.

"You are not in this alone, Mrs Revera, your former therapist. Me. and your girls will have learned an important lesson that when you do wrong in this world, you will get punished either from this life or the Hereafter." She calmly stated. "You don't know how many girls and blood they have shed and will shed. They are a mob. Don't let that blood be on your hands and take the necessary precisions to ensure that they all get what they deserve."

I nodded as I trembled, "I don't want them to be punished in the Hereafter. At least not because of what they did to me. I don't want blood on my hands. I don't want my girls to feel like... I will go ahead with this."

When I said those words, my heart broke because I knew their hearts will break, "You made a good decision." She smiled at me.

In a matter of a month, the news spread like wildfire.

The Professor, Ahmad, Yilmaz's family, Mr Black, and Mrs Chamberlain were all targetted either it was social media or real life, they were the top heated topic for this month. Some wanted statements from the parties involved, and some didn't want to hear anymore.

My face, his face, statements, and the lawsuit were all over the news. Even though I wanted it to be discreet for the sake of the girls, the big names didn't have a chance to go unnoticed.

When I arrive at the hospital after my lectures, there were already a few reporters outside.

"No comment," I call out before they can ask their questions. "I have no comment until the lawsuit is over."

Inside the hospital, loud voices turned to shocked whispers as they look at me. It must feel ironic to them that I would sue the owners and then come to the hospital to the people that wronged me, or how ever they saw it.

"Wahaj," Camila approaches me meekly. "I...I don't know what to do. The professor is grading the papers. I don't know what to do, and we didn't finish the research and what about our grades," she starts sobbing, "so the students are still beside the professor. It could've been... I mean I'm not sure if they'd suspended him... The presentation are all done except ours"

I breathe and try to understand Camila. "The professor is still in the lab ?" I asked.

She nodded, "He is grading the final papers of the students and what they got so far. He is also lecturing the other students, and he doesn't seem to be bothered by any of the news. Maybe he didn't get suspended, maybe he is still a professor, and maybe we will get an F for not getting the research on time."

My nostrils flare, "Camila, stop crying and hear me out," I order. "I finished the research paper along time ago, and I already edited your part before I started the lawsuit. I gave the first draft to the professor, and he didn't comment on it, but I seem to get an idea of what he is after." I concluded as Camila stopped crying and followed me inside the lab where the professor does his research.

"Oh, you have finally decided to join us?" He grinned, "Come in. We are waiting for your presentation." I looked around to find the students, scientists and some professors gathered around. It seemed that they were unconcerned by everything going around.

I knew he thrived in crashes, I was counting on that and I arrived prepared. I smirked back, "Sorry for being late, professor."

I look up at the rest of the students and faculty, all staring at me in bewilderment. This isn't the way I usually behave, but this is no longer about me, I need to wear my mask just as fitting as he does it.

I need to be able to act strong and resentful because this is what I was supposed to be feeling. They all watch me quietly as they look at the professor, "I assume you are ready to present." He sat in one of the chairs his eyes not on me but rather on his little notebook.

He is hiding something.

In a matter of minutes, we all went into the large lecture room to begin the final presentation. Ours.

For a few minutes, I stand in front of the large crowd. They look at me as I start my presentation and Camila tremble beside me from fear of so many people attending even some not in the class with us. I genuinely feel sorry for her, but this is bigger than all of that.

I wait to make sure they're all paying one hundred percent attention and the whispers fade just like in all the professors' lecture. All focus was on him, and now it is on me.

I needed to show him, I needed to get the verification I desire. I needed to confer him that the student had finally became the master.