A Sister’s Terms

Ashley’s response was immediate.

Cora felt her shoulders tense slightly, bracing without quite knowing why.

“No.”

Cora looked up, surprised.

Ashley sighed and pulled her phone from her pocket.

“I’m not here to tell you to stay away from my brother.”

She glanced down at the screen.

“Actually… he texted me this morning.”

Cora froze.

Ashley scrolled, then read in a dry voice like she was annoyed at how predictable he was.

“First thing he asked was if you were okay.” Cora felt something warm and confusing flicker in her chest before Ashley continued.

Ashley rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Didn’t ask how I was doing though.”

Asmaa laughed softly.

“Men,” she said.

Ashley pointed at her.

“Exactly.”

Then she looked back at Cora.

“He said if you want to see him again… he’d like to apologize.”

Cora’s chest tightened.

She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until it left her in a slow exhale.

Asmaa leaned forward slightly.

“Oh wow,” she said.

“What a gentleman,” she added, teasing.

Ashley’s mouth twitched.

“Don’t start,” she said.

But she couldn’t help a small smile.

Then Ashley turned to Asmaa, and the mood shifted a fraction lighter.

“Oh—and Tom asked my brother for your number.”

Asmaa nearly dropped her phone.

“He did what?”

Her voice shot up an octave.

Mira’s lips curved slightly, as if the chaos of Asmaa’s reaction was familiar and comforting.

Ashley grinned.

“Relax. I didn’t give it yet.”

Asmaa pressed her palms to her cheeks.

“Why would he ask Chris?”

Ashley shrugged.

“Probably because of all the craziness yesterday he forgot.” Ashley shrugged. “ and wanted to text you before seeing you. Sounds like someone might have a crush," Ashley laughed.”

Asmaa stared.

Color rushed into her cheeks. Almost instinctively she tugged the front of her hijab a little closer toward her face, as if the fabric might hide the sudden warmth there.

“That’s—”

“Cute?” Cora supplied.

Asmaa’s eyes widened.

“No!” she said too fast.

Ashley laughed.

“It’s fine.”

She typed quickly on her phone.

“Actually… I’m making a group chat.”

Cora groaned.

Ashley held up a finger.

“And before anyone complains—”

“I am not a matchmaker.”

She slipped the phone back into her pocket.

“Handle your own chaos.”

Asmaa muttered something in Arabic under her breath.

Ashley lifted her brows.

“I don’t need a translation to know that was disrespectful.”

Asmaa smiled innocently.

Cora watched the exchange and felt the room shift into something almost normal.

Then Ashley’s expression softened again.

She looked directly at Cora.

“You like him.”

It wasn’t phrased like a question.

Cora hesitated.

Her first instinct was denial—followed quickly by offense.

Her second instinct was offense.

Her third instinct—the honest one—was silence.

Ashley continued quietly.

“And I like you.”

A small pause followed.

“Just… please don’t hurt my brother.”

Cora blinked.

“I’m not trying to—”

“I know.”

Ashley’s voice was gentle now.

“But you need to understand something.”

She took a breath, like she was choosing her words carefully.

“He’s been through a lot.”

Cora nodded slowly.

Ashley’s jaw tightened.

“And last night… it scared me.”

The admission landed.

Because Ashley hadn’t looked scared last night.

She’d looked furious.

Like someone who could set a room on fire with a stare.

Cora’s voice came out smaller than she intended.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Ashley shook her head.

“Not for his reaction.”

She stepped closer.

“For the situation, maybe. For the chaos. But not for him.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“If you’re serious about him, great.”

“Just remember he needs stability.”

Cora’s arms crossed instinctively again.

Ashley noticed.

Her mouth curved faintly.

“I know you’re strong,” she said. “And you don’t like people telling you what to do.”

Cora’s jaw tightened.

“Especially guys like Chris,” Ashley added.

Cora felt heat rise in her face.

Because Ashley was right.

She had been taught to distrust men like him.

Not because she had known them.

Because she had been told a story about them.

Ashley raised both hands.

“I’m not saying become his obedient little wife,” she said.

Asmaa made a soft sound—half laugh, half gasp.

Mira’s eyes dropped.

Ashley continued, calmer.

“But sometimes… letting him take the lead helps him stay grounded.”

She held Cora’s gaze.

“You don’t have to shrink,” she said. “You don’t have to be submissive. I’m not asking that.” Ashley’s mouth curved into a small grin. “Although it might help sometimes.”

A pause.

“I’m asking you to be mindful.”

Cora stared at her.

“That’s… a lot,” she said.

Ashley laughed softly.

“Yeah.”

Cora took a breath.

“I… I’ll try.”

The words felt strange in her mouth.

Try.

Not win.

Not dominate.

Not prove.

Just… try.

Ashley’s smile warmed.

“That’s all I’m asking.”

For a moment the room relaxed.

Then Ashley checked the time on her phone.

“Oh shit.”

She straightened.

“We’re going to be late.”

“The university president is giving the welcome speech.”

Asmaa’s eyes widened.

“We have to walk across campus.”

Mira finally spoke, her voice soft.

“We should go.”

Ashley headed for the door.

“Come on.”

Cora grabbed her bag while Asmaa slipped on her shoes and adjusted her hijab with quick, practiced movements.

As they filed out, Cora caught Mira’s gaze for half a second.

Mira looked away immediately.

Then, like she couldn’t help herself, she looked back—at Ashley.

Cora filed that away too.

Something was happening there.

Not a declaration.

Not clarity.

But a shift.

They stepped into the hallway and immediately merged into the current of students moving toward the center of campus. Doors were opening and closing up and down the corridor, voices echoing, nervous laughter bouncing off the concrete walls.

“Everyone looks terrified,” Asmaa murmured as they joined the stream heading for the stairs.

“Everyone is terrified,” Ashley replied casually.

Outside the dorm building the morning had fully woken. The paths were crowded now—clusters of freshmen, orientation volunteers in bright shirts, upper‑class students leaning against railings watching the chaos with quiet amusement.

Cora walked beside Ashley while Asmaa and Mira fell a step behind them.

“Where is the auditorium?” Asmaa asked.

“Main hall,” Ashley said. “Ten minutes if we don’t get lost in the herd.”

They crossed the quad together, the campus opening around them in wide green lawns and pale stone buildings glowing in the morning light.

Cora felt the strange energy again—the feeling that something was beginning, that invisible lines were forming between people who had only met hours ago.

Next to her Ashley moved with easy certainty, as if she already understood the terrain.

Behind them Asmaa and Mira were talking quietly, though every now and then Mira’s attention drifted forward toward Ashley again.

The auditorium rose at the end of the path, tall glass doors already swallowing waves of freshmen heading inside.

Ashley glanced back at the group.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s go meet the future.”

Together the four of them headed toward the entrance.