And then...
And then... the entire video footage suddenly cut off. It just froze completely.
Wafa immediately replayed it back. But as soon as that same part came up again, it got cut off. As if it had been hidden on purpose. Wafa's hands stopped. There was confusion on her face. This was not an accidental glitch.
Someone had hidden this moment on purpose.
She whispered softly, "So you... didn't want to be seen."
☆ ☆ ☆
He was standing silently in front of a grave in the cemetery.
A gentle breeze was slowly moving the dry leaves scattered over the grave.
"Aapi... why did you break your promise?" His voice was trembling.
"We were supposed to stay together forever." Tears were swimming in his eyes. He was talking to his sister. Even though there was only a mound of dirt in front of him. But now, this was his only way.
He started pouring his heart out to that silent grave.
"Aapi, Mama doesn't talk to anyone anymore." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"Whenever I walk past her, she smiles at me." He stayed silent for a few moments, then placed his hand on his chest.
"But I don't know why... that smile of hers hurts so much right here."
"It feels like she only smiles to comfort me... even though she's completely broken inside." His voice choked up.
"She still thinks I'm little and don't understand anything." He gently touched the dirt of the grave.
"One day I heard Mama crying in her room." His eyes filled with tears again.
"She was saying,"
"Why do my daughters always get snatched away from me?"
That sentence was still echoing in his ears.
He lowered his head.
"Aapi... are there still some secrets left that are going to come out?" A gust of wind blew. But in reply, there was only silence again.
"Abbu has changed too..."
"He comes home... and goes straight to his room."
"He says that you'll come back." His lips started trembling.
"But I know... anyone who sleeps in the dirt once... never comes back." He began to sob uncontrollably.
He sat down on his knees near the grave.
"Aapi, I know you were scared of the dark." He placed his hand gently on the grave. "Don't you worry. I'll come visit you now. I'll never leave you alone."
☆ ☆ ☆
Wafa was standing outside the Joy Hotel building.
In this very cursed hotel, Asma had spent the final moments of her life. In her hand was a file, which had the permission for the initial police investigation written on it.
She walked inside.
The girl at the reception looked at her.
"Yes, ma'am?" Wafa tried to keep herself composed.
"I'm here regarding Asma's case. I need to see the reading room." For a moment, the receptionist's face changed.
"One minute, please." She picked up the phone and spoke to someone. Wafa's eyes looked around the lobby.
This didn't look like an ordinary hotel. Everything here seemed controlled. After a short while, the receptionist hung up the phone.
"You may go. But only for ten minutes."
Wafa nodded and headed toward the elevator.
Third floor...
When the elevator door opened, a long carpeted corridor was in front of her. At the end was a door:
Reading Room
This was the very place whose name Asma had written in her diary. So the reading room wasn't the study at Asma's house, but a room in this hotel. Wafa placed her hand on the handle and went inside. The room was simple. Bookshelves, a large desk, and a few chairs. But in this simplicity, there was something unusual. As if this room wasn't used just for reading, but also for hiding something.
She stepped forward slowly.
A few files were lying on the desk. She leaned down and started looking through them. Most of the records were normal—bookings, usage logs, and guest entries. But one thing immediately caught her attention.
"Night Access Register" Wafa's breathing quickened slightly. She turned the page. There were entries for the use of this room at various times.
And every time, the same thing was repeated:
"Restricted Session - Approved by Admin"
Wafa knitted her brows.
"Who used this room at night?" She began checking more pages. One page was torn from the corner, as if pulled out in a hurry.
Only one line remained on it:
"...Access granted by HO..."
Wafa's hands stopped.
"...HO...? Or a person?" she whispered softly.
"Head Office... or a person?" Questions began to grow in her mind.
This was no ordinary reading room. This was a room where someone came at night. And left the records incomplete too. Wafa slowly raised her head.
The room's silence didn't feel normal anymore.
Now this wasn't just silence.
It was the pressure of hidden truths.
☆ ☆ ☆
In the park a few days ago... It was evening time.
A gentle breeze was blowing in the park. Wafa was sitting on a bench with a cup of coffee in her hand, staring ahead, lost in thought. A little distance away stood Shahzaib, talking to someone on the phone. When he hung up, his eyes fell on Wafa.
He paused for a few moments... then slowly stepped forward.
"Is this seat empty?" Wafa looked up.
"Yes." Shahzaib sat down, but kept his distance. There was silence for a few moments.
"Do you come here often?" he asked in a casual tone.
"No... I just happened to come today." Wafa put her cup down. Shahzaib nodded with a faint smile.
"Sometimes it's better to just drop by like this. Otherwise, a person gets trapped in their own thoughts." Wafa glanced at him briefly. "And you?"
"Me?" He paused slightly. "I'm mostly out for work. Today I came for a bit of peace." A gentle silence fell over them again.
Neither friendship nor enmity... just a strange kind of peace.
Then both of them got up. And that encounter ended right there, but not completely.
☆ ☆ ☆
Hotel Lobby - Present Time. Wafa was standing in the exact same place.
This time, she had a file in her hand, and questions in her mind. A few moments later, the door opened. On his forehead...
...a boy with messy hair walked in.
His eyes instantly fell on Wafa.
And this time he didn't stop. He just went quiet for a moment.
"You?" In his voice, there was less surprise... and more recognition.
Wafa recognized him immediately too. "We've met before."
Shahzaib gave a slight nod.
"In the park." This sentence startled Wafa a little.
"You remember?" Shahzaib gave a brief reply.
"I rarely forget people."
"...I need to clarify a few things." Shahzaib gave a small nod.
"About Asma?" This question was very direct.
Wafa stayed silent for a few moments.
"How do you know that's what I want to talk about?" Shahzaib shrugged lightly.
"Because everyone is talking about that."
A moment of silence fell. Wafa opened the file, then closed it.
"Did you know Asma?" As soon as this question was asked, Shahzaib's expression changed for barely a second. But he instantly returned to normal. "Just a slight acquaintance."
The kind that exists between a boss and an employee.
He looked straight at Wafa.
"Why? Do you consider me a suspect?" Wafa didn't answer immediately. Her silence was the answer.
Shahzaib tried to hold back a faint smile.
"Wafa... if I were involved, I wouldn't be standing here in front of you." Wafa took a step forward.
"Or maybe you think that being right in front is the safest place to be." Wafa had now switched from polite "aap" to casual "tum".
This line hung in the air. For the first time, Shahzaib looked away. Silence lasted for a few moments.
Then he said softly:
"You are thinking way too far ahead." Wafa looked at him closely.
"I'm only seeing what's right there."
Shahzaib took a deep breath. "Anyway, if you ever need any help, don't hesitate to come." For a split second, something flickered in his eyes, but he immediately hid it.
Right then, Safeer's voice was heard from behind.
"She was very curious."
Wafa narrowed her brows.
Novel Hit
"Curious?"
Safeer nodded. "Some people drop things. And some people try to reach the very end."
"But she wanted to know everything." Wafa found this line strange. But she couldn't react to it right away.
Shahzaib checked his watch.
"If that was all..." Wafa stopped him.
"It's not over yet." There was firmness in her voice. For the first time during this whole incident, tension showed clearly on Safeer's face. Which vanished immediately.
But Wafa had seen that moment. And this very moment forced her to think further.
☆ ☆ ☆
The night had grown deep. Anxiety had spread throughout the house. Asma's brother, Asad, was nowhere to be found.
His mother kept going to his room to check, then coming back and turning silent.
"Where could he have gone..." Her voice was breaking.
Wafa was there too. Her face was serious, but the worry in her eyes was clear.
"Aunty, don't worry... I'll ask his friends."
Wafa reassured her. She was thinking:
What if the people responsible for Asma's death had kidnapped her brother as well?
"Beta, please do something... my heart is sinking."
Zareena Begum said to her.
Hearing the word "Beta" made her feel as if she were her real mother. She called his friends from Zareena Begum's phone, but he wasn't with anyone.
She even went to the playground where he used to play, but he hadn't even come there today.
Zaheer Sahib was also busy running around.
"Give me back my son... I will burn this cursed hotel to the ground!"
He was standing at the hotel entrance, screaming.
This was the very place where they had lost their daughter.
"...Sir, please calm down. We are not involved in your son's disappearance," the receptionist was saying.
"Uncle, please... let's leave this place..." Wafa was trying to handle him.
"If you have any hand in my son's disappearance... I will come back and tear you apart!"
"This palace you are so proud of... I will turn it into trash!"
He was shouting while facing toward an office.
Inside, the frown on Safeer's forehead was deepening. "Yeah, right... what do you think? Am I some mafia boss going around kidnapping kids?"
"Honestly, that's the only thing left to do..." he said softly to himself. Wafa managed to get him out of there with great difficulty.
Then, as the evening shadows deepened, the three of them sat together and began thinking about the possible places he could go. They kept thinking how they had searched every inch of the city, yet he was nowhere.
Just then, Wafa's eyes fell on something: a picture of Asma and her brother. At that exact moment, an idea struck her mind.
"The cemetery... he must be at the cemetery."
They all rushed quickly to that cemetery.
A cemetery is a place where some people come when their time runs out, and others come when they are silenced while searching for the truth. They come there to remain silent forever.
There was mist in the cemetery. Because it was evening, it felt as though wandering spirits were present, as if they wanted to go somewhere or tell something. The hearts of all three were heavy.
"Asad... Asad..." they kept calling out. There was no answer.
"What if he didn't come to the cemetery either?" Zareena Begum expressed her fear. From the silence spread everywhere, it felt as though no human had come there for centuries, let alone today. That was why Wafa and Zaheer Sahib couldn't disagree with her. Suddenly, Wafa's gaze fell on a shadow in the distance. She stopped.
"Uncle," her voice was quieter than a whisper.
With a trembling hand, she pointed toward the banyan tree. Nothing was clearly visible because of the fog.
When Zaheer Sahib looked over there, his breath caught in his throat.
He was sitting motionless near the banyan tree beside Asma's grave, his eyes fixed on her grave.
He looked as if a statue had been placed in this cemetery by mistake instead of a museum. Zaheer Sahib gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
If it were any other time, Zaheer Sahib would have scolded him well for going out like this without telling anyone, but now he didn't say anything to the boy who just wanted to stay near his sister.
"Beta... get up..." His voice was breaking.
Asad's lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. He was just staring at the grave, as if he could still feel someone there. Zaheer Sahib leaned down and placed his ear near his face.
"What did you say?" Asad's breathing was heavy.
And then, very softly, his words broke out:
"Look... Aapi, everyone has come." Hearing this sentence made the air grow even heavier. Zareena Begum hid her face in her hands.
"Asad..." Her voice broke down completely.
Wafa was standing a few steps behind. There was moisture in her eyes too, but she was holding herself back. This was no longer just a game of lies. This was a family falling apart. Asad turned his head toward the grave again.
"You said, didn't you... that you'd always stay with me..." His voice was almost a whisper now.
"Then why did you leave?" The wind picked up.
It felt as though the cemetery's silence broke with this question.
Zaheer Sahib gently pulled Asad closer to him.
"Beta... let's go home..." But Asad held onto his hand slightly and stopped him.
"No..." His voice was clear for the first time.
"If I leave too... then Aapi will be left all alone."
This sentence pierced everyone's heart. Wafa lowered her eyes. For the first time, she truly understood.
This wasn't just death.
It was an emptiness that buries even the living inside out. Zareena Begum gently placed her hand on the dirt of the grave.
"My daughter..." She said just that much and became silent.
Because there are some pains...
...after which even words apologize.
☆ ☆ ☆
Wafa was sitting with the same letter open that was found with Asma. Asad was sitting right beside her. Both of them had now made a promise that they would unmask the real culprits no matter what. It wasn't just a letter; a hint was hidden in every line.
"I don't know why the paths to reach the truth are so complicated... or maybe we just lose the ability to see the truth clearly."
"If this letter were a farewell announcement, there would be silence in it, not a scream." But here, every word seemed to point toward something hidden.
Wafa slowly folded the letter again. Her fingers were trembling slightly. Asad, sitting in front of her, was silent, but his eyes were fixed on the letter, as if trying to read the secret hidden behind every word.
"This isn't just handwriting..." Asad said softly. "This is someone's message. A way to tell someone something without telling them directly."
Wafa nodded.
"But the question is... to whom? And why? If this really isn't a suicide note, then what is it pointing to?"
"I don't know if the answers to some questions bring peace to a person or make them even more restless." "I always used to think that once the truth came out, everything would become easy."
"Now I understand that not every reality is the way it appears from afar. Who knows how many faces look different from their real form. Even after knowing someone for years, you can't know everything about them. And sometimes, the biggest betrayal comes from the person you trust the most."
"But one thing is certain: no secret stays a secret forever."
"But this looks like poetry, or lines she wrote to give some clue."
"Whenever Aapi and I wanted to share a secret or were bored, we used to play this."
"We would write lines and then hide words in them..." Asad told Wafa. When they separated the first letter of each line, the sequence formed was like this:
P, H, A, N, T, O, M
Pantom
"This wasn't forming any word in Urdu—"
"Let me write the letters in English," Wafa suggested.
p - P
h - H
a - A
n - N
t - T
o - O
m - M
Phantom
Asad gasped.
Phantom was a name in this story that never came straight out in the open. He always stayed behind the curtain, where decisions are made but never signed.
His mask wasn't his identity... but a way to hide his identity.
He was present right where the line between truth and lie became the blurriest.
Some people said he was a single person.
And according to others, he was just a name behind which many faces were hidden. But one thing everyone knew: whenever the name "Phantom" came up, the direction of the story changed.
☆ ☆ ☆
The noise in the lobby was growing louder.
"What kind of irresponsible system is this?"
"We want an answer right now!"
The employee at the reception was drenched in sweat. He had genuinely made a mistake. The same room had been booked under two different guests' names. He kept apologizing again and again, but the guests standing before him were too angry to listen.
"How do people like you even get a job?" The employee's face turned even paler. Right at that moment, the sound of calm footsteps was heard. Shahzaib walked in.
He looked at everyone for a moment, then came and stood straight in front of the employee, as if becoming his shield.
"This conversation ends now." His voice was soft, but there was a clear warning in it.
He turned toward the guests. "Your complaint is valid, and the responsibility is mine. But this way of speaking to my staff is not right."
A brief silence fell over the room.
Shahzaib continued speaking calmly,
"The issue will be resolved. Both of you will be given a better room, and all today's inconvenience will be compensated by us." He paused briefly, then said,
"This hotel can make mistakes, but it does not tolerate disrespect." Within a few moments, the atmosphere changed. The anger cooled down.
Both guests slowly felt satisfied and walked away.
Only the employee and Shahzaib remained in the lobby. The employee said in a low, downcast voice, "Sir... I made a huge mistake."
Shahzaib looked at him and said, "A mistake happened, now fix it. But remember, the same mistake won't be tolerated a second time." The employee looked at him in surprise. No scolding, no humiliation, no threat of losing his job.
"There is a fix for a mistake, but not for disrespect. You made a mistake, now learn to fix it." The employee's eyes welled up with tears.
"Thank you, sir..." Shahzaib just nodded and moved forward. Shahzaib simply gave a slight nod and walked away from there, while the rest of the staff watched him silently. They all knew that if Safeer had been here today, this matter might not have ended so easily.
"Asad... searching the word 'Phantom' only brings up mentions of a masked man from centuries ago... who used to secretly help people in his time."
"Or an opera singer who wore a specific type of mask."
Wafa looked up from her laptop and told Asad.
"So you mean... his ghost appeared to Asma after centuries and she wrote down his name?"
Wafa looked at Asad as if his brain had fried. She stayed silent for a few moments, then a faint smile appeared on her lips. She had no brother, but with Asad, she always felt a sibling bond.
Otherwise, why would hearing the word "Bhai" remind her of that rainy evening?
"Asad... my brother... I don't think Asma wrote the name of some centuries-old character. If that were really the case, it would just be part of a story or history, not a secret she would hide in her diary like this."
She paused for a few moments, then said,
"It means someone is still using this name today. But they are hidden from our sight."
"So how will we find them now?" Asad asked.
"We definitely will... even if we have to dig up old graves." Wafa's words had conviction.
"But how?" Phantom wasn't a genie in a lamp that we could rub and he'd appear.
This was real life. Here, you have to work hard to find anyone.
"Aapi... where did you drift off to?" She snapped back to the present immediately.
"Asad... dark web."
"The black web?" Asad blurted out immediately.
"Are we looking for some spider?" Wafa felt like scolding this clueless brain properly. But he was just a kid. What would he know about such complex terms?
Then she dismissed her own thought.
"What is this dark web?" "Look... if there's a building, like a mall, anyone can go into its ground floor. If someone wants to shop, they can. Meaning everyone has access to that ground floor part."
"But that same mall has an underground floor too, where maybe some goods are kept stored, or there are authorities' offices, or something is going on that they don't want to show the whole world."
"So not everyone can go to that underground part."
"Most ordinary people don't even know that such a part exists."
"Exactly, this is how the dark web works."
"The internet that we can access, or that we use every day, or that we know about... it's just like the tip of an iceberg. Meaning it's only the surface, just like that ground floor."
"But the part that exists below that surface is called the dark web... just like that underground part. On the dark web, people's real identity remains hidden, so knowing who is sitting behind the screen or finding them becomes very difficult."
"Criminals take advantage of this very thing and carry out black marketing. They illegally buy and sell services or goods that are not legally allowed. And for transactions, instead of normal banks, they use a special kind of digital currency—Bitcoin—so that even if things blow up, tracing their payments becomes extremely difficult." Wafa explained to him in detail.
"Whoever this Phantom is... whether it's a gang, a mafia, or just one person... he must definitely be on this web."
Saying this, she began formulating her next strategy.
☆ ☆ ☆
Now Wafa had finally decided to cross that line to reach the truth, beyond which lay only danger.
A deep silence hung over the room. Both of them were looking at the same screen with bated breath. But it felt as though something terrible was waiting for them. As if even the curtains of the room were making a silent protest, as if the walls wanted to stop them from getting near those secrets whose price often had to be paid with one's life. But Asma's picture, placed at the corner of the table, was watching them silently. It felt as if she were begging them to unmask those responsible for her death and get her justice.
Wafa took her eyes off the picture, drew a deep breath, and looked at Asad. In her eyes was a quiet conviction, as if saying, "I am with you. Do whatever needs to be done. If something bad happens, we will face it together too."
After losing his sister, Asad had now become Wafa's protector.
Finally, Wafa clicked on that mysterious link on the screen. As soon as she logged in, a website opened up before her. In one corner of the screen, a strange red and white mask appeared, while below it was a form that looked just like any normal online order form.
Triangular-shaped pills were floating in the background of the website. Wafa thought in surprise, "Why would anyone sell medicine secretly like this?"
She began reading the questions on the form. While all the initial questions were normal and harmless, her gaze stopped at the next question.
"How many packets of medicines do you want to order?" Wafa's heart skipped a beat for a moment. Now she was certain that this was no ordinary website. Asma had indeed reached a network connected to the illegal drug trade.
Reading these words sent a chill through her body.
So... those triangular pills weren't medicine, but drugs.
As soon as Wafa opened that link, a silent protocol activated inside the website.
A small indicator flashed at the bottom of the screen: New visitor logged.
Within a few seconds, data began filtering—IP trace, device fingerprint, and location signals.
A red alert automatically ran through the system.
Unknown access detected: Phantom Network Alert
At that very moment, in a dark room in another part of the city, a monitor lit up.
The man in the golden mask fixed his eyes on the screen. He had already realized that this was no ordinary user.
He slowly placed his fingers on the keyboard and opened the log.
"...Asma's file," he said softly. Then a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"So this time someone came inside alive—" With a single click, he followed the session.
"Don't stop this girl... just watch how far she goes—" "You will not do that. Ban her from the website right this second—"
Right at that moment, the deep voice of the person in the red and white mask echoed.
"Boss, what's the issue with taking a risk? What harm can a little girl do to us... and besides, this is just an adventure for me—" Sameer shrugged his shoulders.
"Adventure?" The voice coming from behind the mask had an icy harshness.
"Should we sacrifice someone again for your cheap adventure, Goldie?" Silence fell for a moment, then the same voice came in a final tone:
"Do what you're told, right now—" This time it wasn't a request; it was an order. The boy hesitantly placed his fingers on the keyboard and started running the code. Meanwhile, as Wafa's trembling hands pressed the cursor to select a packet, a corner of the screen suddenly flickered.
The white mask slowly grew bigger, as if swallowing the entire screen, and within a few seconds, only one word remained on it: ERROR.
Wafa froze.
The red and white colors opened up in her mind like an old wound.
A blurry scene emerged before her eyes. Bloodstained elbows, and then Asma's face wrapped in a white shroud. Her breathing became uneven, but her body felt as if someone had locked it. She couldn't move. Asad looked at her immediately. In a second, he realized what the problem was. He lunged forward and shut the laptop.
"Wafa!" He shook her... no reaction.
Then he gave her a gentle nudge. Wafa opened her eyes as if returning from deep darkness.
Tears were flowing from her eyelashes, but she didn't even know why herself.
Some wounds are buried in memories in a way that they don't go away with time; they just wake up suddenly and shatter a person from inside.
☆ ☆ ☆
"Miss Wafa, there has been no further progress in your work yet." Wafa's phone was on speaker, and she was sitting with a cup of chai in her hand. The color of the chai was neither light nor brown; it was dark brown. Whenever she was in trouble or the past started terrifying her, she would drink this exact dark brown, almost black, bitter chai, as if she wanted to pour all the bitterness of life into herself.
She didn't try to get rid of the sadness immediately; she would just immerse herself in it and then slowly distance herself from that grief. S. Khan was visible written on the screen. "Respected sir, I am truly sorry..."
"...I am a bit busy these days."
"If there is any progress in the work, please update me... I can understand your situation." Upon hearing this, a sarcastic smile appeared on Wafa's face.
"Nobody can understand anyone..." When every person's grief and struggles are different, why do people claim to understand others' pain?
She practically erupted. She wasn't blunt, but she wanted to tell someone about the lava boiling inside her.
"There is no pain in her life, but rather life inside pain!" She broke down into heavy tears. When something bad happens to a person, they feel as if the rest of the world is enjoying life, and they are the only ones enduring it.
She was going through the exact same state. The person on the other side was listening silently. He wanted to say,
"I'm sorry."
"Or 'What's my fault in the problems of your life?'" But he said nothing.
"I don't understand what I should do... stop everything and live my own life, or bring the criminals to justice?" She started explaining her confusion again.
"When you don't understand what to do in life, you should do what you are best at. What your heart urges you to do."
This was all he said during this entire time.
Hearing this, Wafa fell silent. Who knows after how many years someone had given her such advice.
When kids have parents who advise them, they feel like their parents are scolding them. But for orphans, this feeling is a gift—a feeling that there is someone who cares about them, someone who stops them from taking a wrong step.
"Don't make yourself a traveler on paths where there are thorns that will wound you." This wasn't just advice. It was the attitude of a protector forcing her to stay away from dangerous paths. For the first time, he called Wafa "tum".
Wafa couldn't notice this fact at that moment.
She said softly,
"Thank you." Then she hung up the call.
Wafa was standing outside the same orphanage building again. She couldn't gather the courage to go inside. What if what she had seen turned out to be true?
She prayed a million times that it wouldn't be true, but she couldn't deny this reality.
She couldn't gather the courage to go inside... but that was the very place where she could find out who she was. What her mind was showing her was true.
She stepped into the office.
Madam Sakeena
The girl who used to call her "Sakeena Aunty" was now calling her "Madam". That girl was truly not the same as before.
"I need all the information. Tell me where I came from and who my family is."
"It is my right to know this. And I'm not a child anymore."
"I know very well how to protect myself..."
She stayed silent for a while... as if deciding whether to tell the truth or not. Then she slowly stood up, but her walk was feeble. She opened a cupboard, moved a few files around, and then placed a white file in front of her.
Wafa, who was expecting some emotional dialogue, was stunned. She wanted to say thank you, but at that moment her mind wasn't working.
Everything was blurring; only the weight of reality remained. She opened the file, and instead of any official documents, a tattered piece of paper was placed there, and it was written on it:
She opened the file, and instead of any documents, a tattered piece of paper was placed there, and it was written on it:
Name: Amal
Parents: Zaheer Akbar
Address: Jahangir House....
"If they knew all this... then why was I kept in the dark for so many years?"
"Is this the truth or another game?"
"Who left me here..." "You were lying unconscious in the building, and this paper was with you."
"Now look at the next page..." There was another page there.
"I have given her information, but her life is in danger, and if she goes to her house, she won't survive again."
"Meaning the person who kidnapped me was one of my own." Her words got stuck in her throat, as if reality had choked her breath. Her words got stuck in her throat, as if reality had choked her breath.
Her hands trembled, and the world came to a standstill.
"Beta, don't misunderstand me..." Sakeena Aunty's voice echoed at that moment. Wafa was standing outside the very place that used to be her home.
The gate was half-open, as if no one had touched it for years. She entered silently.
As soon as she stepped inside, she felt as if this place was no longer alive. It had just become a forgotten memory of time.
Dry grass, withered plants, and silence settled on the dust—it felt as if time had stopped coming here. No one was present.
She closed her eyes, and as her breath paused, the past attacked her. Blurry images began to emerge in her mind. A happy home... laughter... voices... and then suddenly, everything ended.
She opened her eyes with a jerk.
Old pictures were hanging on the walls. In one picture was a five-year-old girl with golden eyes, who had a birthmark on her cheek. Beside her stood an eighteen-year-old boy. Black eyes, and a clear cut mark between his eyebrows.
Her gaze froze.The girl in the picture was peeking through her eyes, as if she were her forgotten childhood.
And she always used to hide that birthmark under makeup.
So will she ever be able to meet her brother again? This thought pierced her heart. This thought pierced her heart.
But the scene there was telling a completely different story, as if the residents of this house had left suddenly in a huge rush, or some great disaster had forced them to leave everything behind.
Did they leave because of me, or had some other calamity struck them too?
She turned around silently and walked out of the house. Now there was only one question in her mind: Would she ever be able to reach the people of this house again?
She started asking around the neighboring houses.
"The police case was huge too... and then that little girl suddenly disappeared." The woman left her sentence incomplete, as if afraid to speak further.
Then who knows where they vanished to.
One woman said, finishing her thought.
Wafa asked at two or three more houses, but didn't get a clear answer. Finally, a woman gave her an address. She immediately noted it down in her mobile.
She looked at the address. And her breath caught.This was Asma's home.And perhaps... it was the very home to which her own story was connected. Questions made noise in her mind, but she stood there in silence... as if the answers had already been buried somewhere. Wafa had come to this house for the first time considering it not Asma's, but her own home.
Her heart wanted to scream and tell the whole world that she had found her hope, her family, everything,
but she didn't know that her family wasn't complete.
When she went inside, as always in the veranda, she didn't see Asma's mother, but rather her "Amal's" Ammi sitting there. She was crocheting.
"Ammi..." She didn't call her "Aunty". Since she had gained consciousness, for the first time she had called someone Ammi.
When she knew everything, she wanted to tell her too. She felt she had misheard."Wafa beta, come. How come you're here?"
"Ammi..." Wafa said, "I am your daughter, Amal. Ammi, I have come back." Wafa's eyes were turning red.
Zareena Begum was stunned. She couldn't believe her ears.
"Say that again." Wafa slowly wiped the makeup off her face with her hand. That hidden mark began to show clearly.
Then she said, "Ammi, I am Amal." Zareena Begum's hands began to tremble. The ball of yarn fell from her hand.
She was in disbelief. After all, how could a lost child be found after 15 years?
She started crying. Wafa hugged her. "Where did you go, Amal? Where didn't I look for you?
You were an essential part of my every prayer—" she was saying in a trembling voice.
"Nature snatched one daughter from her and returned the other."
"Ammi, I don't know where I was lost?" Wafa said.
"Ammi, why did you leave me at the orphanage?" She wanted to ask, but couldn't speak.
"Forgive your mother. I couldn't protect you," Zareena Begum said.
"Ammi, don't say that. I'm sure it wasn't your fault. This was nature's plan," she was saying. Outside, the setting sun witnessed a mother and daughter reuniting like this after centuries.
"Now you won't go anywhere... you'll stay right here. I'll set up your room." Wafa was given space in the adjacent bedroom. As soon as she entered the room, her eyes fell on the dressing table.
The same old picture was kept there. The picture with her birthmark.
"That same black-eyed boy and all the rest of the people." Wafa stood still for a few moments. A strange conviction began settling in her heart that maybe now she too had a home.Because homes, after all, are built by families.Asad was overjoyed. He had already accepted her as his sister. Tahir Sahib's happiness was second to none... but Jahangir Sahib looked somewhat different. In his silence, there was a strange harshness.Wafa felt that maybe she hadn't understood him properly yet.At night, after dinner, when everyone went to their rooms, Wafa quietly picked up that picture. Her fingers were trembling slightly."Ammi... who is this?" Zareena Begum looked at her, then said softly:"This is Wahaab... your brother." Wafa startled."Brother...?" Her eyes were still on the picture."But Ammi... is he somewhere else? I haven't seen him yet.""No, beta." Zareena Begum's voice grew heavy."His story is very different." Wafa looked at her face."Ammi... why are you making such a mysterious atmosphere? I want to know everything... please tell me..." Zareena Begum took a long breath...And for the first time, she intended to tell everything that she never wanted to hear from anyone even by mistake.Fifteen years ago:"This is an incident from fifteen years ago... when everything was about to change." Zareena Begum took a deep breath and slowly began opening the closed doors of the past.
A group of boys was gathered in the college washroom. Loud laughter, hooting, and noise echoed through the entire washroom. Right in the middle of them, a boy holding a mobile was recording a video with full interest, as if all this was merely entertainment for him.
"Man, awesome! Look at my views, see how they're growing!" he shouted almost at the top of his lungs. Another boy laughed while fixing his eyes on the mobile screen.
"And look at this comment section... people are going crazy!" It was afternoon. Because classes were over, the college was almost empty, but the noise of these boys was so loud that teachers sitting in the staff room could easily hear it. But no one interfered. In their eyes, these were just the routine pranks of a few rich kids—pranks that were considered better ignored. What did they know?
That in this very washroom, a life was being ruined.
All those senior boys were standing around a newly arrived student, surrounding him on all sides. They were ragging him. But this was no ordinary ragging.
This was cruelty. One of the boys, whose shoulder was adorned with a prefect's sash, silently gestured with his hand.
And that was it. The remaining boys pounced on that innocent guy like beasts. Two boys grabbed both his arms firmly so he couldn't resist at all.
"Please... don't do this... let me go... what harm have I done to you, Aswad?" He pleaded helplessly.
Fear was clearly reflected in his voice. But on their faces, there was only amusement.
"Hey man, why are you so scared?" one boy said, laughing.
"We're just pulling a prank... come on, good boy... eat this medicine..."
"N-no... I-I..." He couldn't even finish his sentence. One boy stuffed a handful of triangular-shaped pills into his mouth.
"Give him water..." he ordered carelessly.
Another boy immediately pressed a water bottle against his lips and clamped his mouth shut firmly so he couldn't spit the pills out. Within just a few moments, his steps began to falter. He held his head with both hands, but his body gave up.
He was just about to fall to the ground when the whole group burst into laughter.
"Man... looks like it hit him pretty hard!" one boy said, holding back his laughter. Right at that moment, the washroom door slammed open. A boy rushed inside, panting.
"Police...!" he said in a panicked voice.
"Police sirens can be heard outside. Run... or everyone will get caught!" The prefect sensed the situation immediately.
"Everyone get out through the washroom's emergency exit... now!"
"Sir... only this boy was found lying unconscious in the washroom." The constable held the semi-conscious boy by his arm. The inspector approached him, leaned down, patted his cheek two or three times, and spoke in a harsh tone,
"Hey... what's your name?" The boy barely opened his closing eyes.
"...Wahaab." His voice was so faint that with every word, it felt as if his breath was breaking too.
The inspector snorted sarcastically. "Look at the habits of boys these days... taking drugs and lying unconscious in college washrooms." Then he looked toward the constable.
"Pick him up... take him to the police station. All his intoxication will wear off there, and his mouth will open up too."
Lockup Scene:
In the police station, the continuous sound of sticks and painful screams echoed. The inspector was talking to someone on the phone in an extremely respectful tone.
"Yes, sir... you are our elder. There's no question of ignoring what you say." For a few moments, he listened silently to the other side, then said,
"According to statements from students present at school, this same boy, Wahaab, used drugs. And he was trying to sell them to other kids as well. Even today, while teaching those students how to use drugs, he passed out due to an overdose." Something was said from the other side of the phone. A faint smile touched the inspector's lips.
"Yes, sir... meaning now it's only a matter of his confession... then consider the case closed." As soon as he hung up, he looked toward the sub-inspector standing in front of him.
"What happened?"
"Sir... the boy is very stubborn. No matter how much you beat him, he says only one thing... 'I am innocent.'" The inspector's face hardened.
"Whatever it takes... make him confess. Even if you have to skin him alive." He paused for a few moments, then spoke in a low but dangerous tone,
"And even if he was forcibly given drugs... still." The sub-inspector remained silent.
The inspector slammed his fist on the table.
"Because this matter involves some names... to whom this fire must never reach."
---
Torture Room...
Wahaab was hung upside down.
His shirt was soaked in blood.
On his back, red stripes of fresh wounds were clearly visible, continuously oozing blood.
Blood drops were dripping down from his elbows. With every strike, his scream echoed through the entire room.
"Hey, speak up... will you confess or not?" the executioner-like officer roared. Wahaab barely raised his head.
His lips were torn. His breathing was breaking.
"Sir..." his faint voice came out.
"I... was trapped, I... have no fault..." Before he could even finish speaking, another stick came down with full force on his back.
"Answer only as much as you're asked!" the officer growled.
"Whether you're guilty or innocent... means nothing to us!" Meanwhile, the main door of the police station slammed open. A terrified, panting man rushed inside.
"Sir...!" His voice was breaking.
"Sir, my son cannot take drugs... for God's sake let me meet him once. Please sir... I will get the truth out of him." He was a father whose years of earnings, hopes, and dreams had shattered in a single moment. But no effect showed on the face of the constable on duty.
Such scenes were not new to him. Every day someone got arrested, and their relatives cried like this, swearing oaths of innocence.
The constable said callously,
"Chacha... crying here won't do anything. Explain to your boy to accept what the police are saying. If he confesses, maybe his life will be saved." The man went silent.
Tears were flowing continuously from his eyes.
Right at that moment, a familiar voice was heard from behind.
"Bhai Jaan... don't lose heart." He turned.
Zaheer Sahib was standing in front of him.
"I will try to check the school camera footage on my own. I'll talk to the kids too. If the truth is hidden anywhere... we will find it."
Jahangir Sahib looked at him helplessly.
"Okay." His voice choked up.
"I will convince Wahaab to confess to the crime, but in return, I need a promise that he will be released and his sentence reduced."
A few moments later...
They were standing in front of the lockup. Behind the iron bars sat Wahaab in an injured state.
Jahangir Sahib placed his trembling hands on the bars.
"Beta..."
He could barely speak.
"Agree to what they say..."
"Confess..."
"I promise... I will get you out of here." Tears came to his eyes.
"And your Zaheer Chacha..." he said, composing himself, "...will definitely find the evidence against the real culprits." Wahaab stared silently at his father.
There were no tears in his eyes. Only broken trust.
According to the official police report...
"The eighteen-year-old youth involved in the case of selling drugs in school, Wahaab Jahangir, has confessed to his crime..."
"Bhai, I got the camera footage." He was telling Jahangir Sahib on a call.
"You inform the lawyer about this new evidence, I'm just leaving." Hearing this brought a sense of relief over him.
Present:
"That day we were all so happy that trouble was finally going to be averted," Zareena Begum said.
"Our home had only just begun to face troubles."
15 years ago:"Lawyer sahib, my brother found evidence of the other boys' involvement..."
"That is very good news," Lawyer Safdar said, wearing fake joy on his face.
