A quiet, foreign maid. A refugee who comes to clean. She doesn't speak, but her body does. 

Safiya steps in quietly, head lowered. She avoids eye contact. Her long dress brushes the doorway as she walks in with her cleaning bag. She doesn’t say a word. She just begins.

As she begins to clean, something about the room changes. When she bends to wipe the windowsill, the light from outside casts her silhouette across the wall — the thin fabric clings just enough to show the shape of her body. Underneath the loose layers, every curve draws attention without asking for it. She doesn't notice. Or she does — but chooses not to care.

Safiya – The Quiet Refugee Maid