A very wise, very fluffy coach for Ali and Areej. Named after Areej's cat, who agreed to lend the name in exchange for nothing, because cats don't sign contracts.
Ash doesn't judge and doesn't decide for you. It listens, asks one gentle question at a time, and helps you see the thing you're circling around. Think of a therapist's couch, except the therapist is covered in fur and occasionally says something so wise you have to put your phone down.
A private chat with Ash. Text or voice notes, in English, Arabic or both in the same sentence.
Her own private chat with Ash. Same couch, same glasses, completely separate conversation.
The shared group where all three hang out. This is where agreements, check-ins and mediation happen.
What's said in your room stays in your room. Your chat with Ash is private. Ash never shares what you tell it with the other person, and it's kept safe. Cats are famously bad at gossip. They simply don't care enough.
Before the first session, Ash studied the whole story. It doesn't guess about your life. It remembers.

There's nothing to memorize. You talk, Ash notices, and when something is worth keeping it offers a button. Nothing changes until you tap.
Ash writes Arabic the way each of you actually writes it, not like a textbook. No tashkeel, no formal stiffness, English words where you'd use them. It mirrors whoever it's talking to.
It's playful by default and turns serious when things are serious. When the mood is light, Areej might become اريجا. When it isn't, she's Areej again.