Mariam was 29 years old and had been having problems with her business. My husband, Ahmed, said she needed somewhere to stay for a few months while she got herself together.
I agreed. After all, she was his sister.
At first, everything was fine. I cooked for her, we talked, and sometimes we even laughed together.
But after about three weeks, I started noticing some things.
Whenever Ahmed and I had a small disagreement, Mariam would somehow find a way to make it worse.
If I told my husband I didn’t like something he did, she would say, “A good wife knows how to talk to her husband.”
If I asked him why he spent money without telling me, she would say, “My brother works hard. Let him enjoy his money.”
I kept quiet because I didn’t want to be the wife who was always fighting with her husband’s family.
Then one evening, something happened.
