The Quantum Gift

"We're not saying anything about this, right?" Asma suddenly asked. Her voice was low and serious. "Not even to our parents?"

Layla didn't answer right away. She looked at Asma, reading the fear behind her eyes. "It's your first day here, and you almost died," she said calmly. "If you tell your parents, they'll come and take you back home immediately. You know that."

Asma nodded slowly, her throat tightening. "No... I need to be here. I came to study with you. I won't say anything to anyone. I promise."

Layla gave a short nod of approval. "Good. Then whatever happened back there—just throw it behind your head. If you keep carrying it around, it'll start dragging your focus down. And we have work to do, remember?"

Asma bit her lip. "But what if he comes back? What if he's out there, planning something? What if he wants revenge? Our lives could really be in danger, Layla."

Layla met her eyes, steady and unwavering. "Don't worry. I'm here. And I won't let anything bad happen to you. Ever."

Those words struck something in Asma. Her chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Layla, holding her tight. She stayed there, her head resting on Layla's shoulder, silent.

Layla didn't pull away. She placed one arm gently around Asma's back and let her stay like that. For a moment, the house was still.

Then—

"I sense love in the air," came Emre's voice from the hallway, his tone dramatic. "What are you two planning that you're so emotional about?"

Asma jumped slightly at the sound. She turned, eyes wide, and saw him grinning.

"You! Brat! Come here—I promise I won't kill you. Come to your sister!"

"Do I look that stupid?" Emre said, immediately backing away. "I'm not walking into the arms of a devil."

"Who are you calling devil, huh? You think you've grown up now and can talk like that? Come here—let me spank your little mouth!"

Asma darted after him, and Emre squealed as he ran through the living room, weaving between the couches.

"You're crazy! Someone help! This woman's insane!" Emre shouted dramatically.

Laughter erupted in the room. Asma chased Emre around while Layla sat back, watching them with a soft smile. The heaviness that had filled the room earlier had lifted—replaced by laughter, noise, and the chaotic comfort of family.

Layla leaned into the couch cushion, eyes following the two. Yeah... everything's okay now.

---

Later that night, after dinner was prepared with laughter and shared effort, and eaten with warmth and quiet affection, Layla and Asma retired to their room. Emre remained in the living room, utterly engrossed in Jackie Chan's Rumble in the Bronx, occasionally bursting into laughter or mimicking fight moves.

Asma stretched on her bed, pulling a notebook into her lap. "How about you teach me calculus tonight?" she asked, looking at Layla with a sheepish smile. "You know, calculus has always been hard for me. I try solving questions, but most of them turn out wrong. Only a few make sense."

Layla glanced up from her own books, her expression warm. "Sure, I'll teach you. But this time, I want you to really understand it—not just memorize formulas."

Asma nodded eagerly.

Layla sat beside her and opened a clean page in Asma's notebook. She drew a graph with a smooth curve. "Let's start from the basics—derivatives. Do you know what a derivative means?"

"Um… rate of change?" Asma answered hesitantly.

"Exactly," Layla said. "It tells us how fast something is changing. Like speed is the rate of change of distance over time. Let's say you're walking in a straight line. If we plot your distance over time on this graph, the slope of the curve tells us how fast you're walking at any moment."

She drew a tangent line to a point on the curve.

"This line touches the curve at exactly one point. The slope of this line is the derivative at that point. That's what we're finding when we do differentiation."

Asma leaned in closer, watching her hand as she wrote.

"Let me give you a simple example," Layla continued. She wrote:

f(x) = x²

"If I want to know how fast this function is changing at any point, I take its derivative. The rule here is—bring down the power and subtract one from the exponent."

She wrote:

f ′(x) = 2x

"So, if x is 3, what's the derivative?"

"2 times 3… that's 6," Asma replied.

"Right. That means the function is increasing at a rate of 6 units per 1 unit of x when x is 3."

Asma's eyes widened slightly. "That… actually makes sense."

Layla smiled and leaned back slightly. "Now try one yourself. Differentiate this:

f(x) = 3x³ + 5x² - 4x + 7"

Asma took a pencil and paused for a moment, murmuring to herself. "Okay… so, 3 times 3 is 9… x to the power of 2. Then 5 times 2 is 10x, then minus 4. The constant becomes zero. So…"

She looked up. "9x² + 10x - 4?"

Layla nodded. "Perfect. You're getting the hang of it."

They moved on to word problems next—rates of water filling a tank, speed of a falling object, how shadows change length over time. Layla patiently broke down each question into parts, connecting abstract formulas to real-world examples. And every time Asma got stuck, Layla guided her without giving away the answers, letting her reach them on her own.

By the time they were done, Asma stared at her notes with a look of surprised pride. "This is the first time I've understood calculus like this."

"That's because you stopped being afraid of it," Layla said softly. "It's all about understanding the logic behind it. Once you get that, the rest falls into place."

Asma smiled and leaned her head on Layla's shoulder. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"You can repay me by solving ten more problems tomorrow," Layla teased.

They both laughed gently, the night calm and safe around them.

---

The sun hadn't fully risen yet, but soft golden light was already spilling through the edges of the curtains. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of fresh bread, sautéed vegetables, and something sweet—perhaps cinnamon or cardamom.

Elif stood by the doorway to the girls' room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She knocked gently before peeking in with a warm smile. "Girls, time to get up. You don't want to be late."

Layla stirred first, blinking against the light and stretching her arms. "Already morning?"

Asma groaned and buried her face in the pillow. "Five more minutes…"

Elif chuckled softly. "If I had a lira for every time I heard that, I'd be retired by now. Come on, breakfast is ready."

That did the trick. Layla nudged Asma. "Come on, get up. It's Monday. Back to the battlefield."

Asma slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Can't we just skip one day?"

"Nope," Layla said, already pulling open the closet. "Skipping one Monday is like throwing your whole week off balance."

The girls freshened up quickly, tying their hair and putting on their uniforms. Asma had some trouble with her tie.

"Here," Layla said, stepping in to help. "You twist it this way, then pull it through like this."

"Thanks," Asma mumbled with a sleepy smile. "I'd be doomed without you."

Downstairs, Emre was already halfway through his breakfast, legs swinging under the table, a plate of toast and honey in front of him.

"Took you girls long enough," he said smugly.

"Morning to you too, brat," Asma muttered, dropping into a chair.

Elif placed plates in front of the girls—soft scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes, warm simit, and a side of kaymak with honey.

"Eat well, okay?" she said. "Mondays need a strong start."

"Smells amazing, mom," Layla said genuinely.

"Thanks, Aunt Elif," Asma added warmly.

They ate together in a peaceful rhythm, Emre occasionally interrupting with a comment or joke, earning playful glares from the girls.

After breakfast, Layla made sure Asma packed everything—lunch, notebooks, pens. She didn't want her forgetting anything in the rush.

"You're such a nerd," Emre teased.

"And you're going to miss your bus if you keep talking," Layla fired back.

They stepped outside together. The morning air was cool and refreshing. Layla and Asma headed off toward their school, while Emre jogged toward his school.

"Have a good day, Emre!" Asma called.

"Don't fall asleep in math class!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Layla and Asma laughed as they walked on. The weekend's shadows were behind them now, replaced by the steady rhythm of a new day.

And that was exactly how Layla wanted it.

---