“Stop talking! Don’t say another word!” Samuel begged, the silk of his new hijab feeling tight over his hair.

The woman leaned in, her words seductive as they poured into his mind. “But isn’t this what you wished for? To know what it is to be someone else. To truly grasp another’s perspective, feelings, and thoughts?”

Samuel’s eyes, now lined with kohl, opened wide. “This isn’t what I wanted. Please change me back!”

“You are from Riyadh,” she whispered. “Do you remember the hot desert sun, the call to prayer, the traditions, and the values?” As she spoke, Samuel saw himself walking the streets of Riyadh, surrounded by the familiar hustle and bustle of that city. He tried to not listen. He tried to push these images out of his mind. But he couldn’t.

“Your name is Samira,” she continued. “Remember your mother’s loving touch as she braided your hair for Eid celebrations, remember your deep connection to the teachings of the Qur’an.”

Tears rolled down Samuel’s cheeks as he felt fragments of his old self slipping away. As the woman whispered, every memory of his past slowly faded, replaced by vivid images of Samira’s life. He saw himself sitting with her family. He saw her mother teaching her how to prepare traditional dishes. He felt the joy and pride she felt when she wore her hijab for the first time, signaling her commitment to her faith.

Samuel tried desperately to cling to any of his old memories, his old identity, but every single thing was fading. As the woman’s words persisted, the tears continued, but no longer out of sadness, but instead from the happiness that Samira felt about her new life. The transformation was complete.

“Embrace this life, Samira,” the woman whispered. “Experience its depths, its joys, its challenges. Now, you truly know what it means to be someone else.”