With the redness of restraint still heavy in his eyes, he sat at the exact same spot where he was once dragged against his will. Sitting on his customary chair, he pulled his phone out of his pocket when a familiar voice hummed in his ears.

"Come on, Mr. Double MA! Quick, take a selfie."

A chair was dragged close to his, and the command was issued in a bossy tone.

"Ugh, Anjee!" Pulling out his phone, he muttered in annoyance.

"Is a library really a place to take selfies?" He grumbled irritably, but who cared? Every third day, she would drag him to the library and force him to take a selfie, which he would later WhatsApp to her number.

Besides Angeline Farooq, who in this world had the audacity to force Muhammad Mutahir in any matter? Muhammad Mutahir was among those people who spoke more with their eyes than with their words. A single silent glance and a twitch of his eyebrow were enough to force anyone to stay within their limits.

As he turned on the front camera, he unconsciously focused on the chair to his left. When a fair, wheatish face with an innocent look and lowered eyelashes—framed by a white scarf edged with a broad deep-pink ribbon—lit up on the screen in all its brilliance, his eyes remained frozen on that face for a few moments.

Before his thumb could touch the screen to save that face, the image disappeared, replaced once again by his own smiling face.

"Angeline Farooq!" His lips silently uttered the name. "I promise you, I will punish your culprit in such a way that their every breath will become a burden. They will yearn to die, but death will not come."

Switching off the camera and stuffing the phone into his pocket, he stormed out of the library like a hurricane.

It was a shopping mall. After buying a watch on the second floor, he stepped out of the shop with his head down, absorbed in his phone. Shahzain, walking alongside him, pressed his hand and nudged him toward the girls coming behind them, who seemed to be arguing.

"This was the miracle of someone's cursed tongue! Is anyone going to confess?" Whoever she was, she sounded exceptionally angry.

"Mine." When a second, soft and calm voice struck his ears, an unconscious smile brushed his lips.

"I told you yesterday, don't mess with me, but do you ever listen? Now pay the price." It was said with pure amusement (they had reached the glass elevator).

"I'm telling both of you. You two are going to buy me this suit with your own money."

"If you had come yesterday, I would have taken money from Brother or Dad, but you dodged me. You promised Saturday, and now Sunday is slipping away too. Besides, if you don't believe my cursed tongue, see for yourself—just how cursed it is!"

Seeing Shahzain's face turning red as he tried to hold back his laughter, he reached out and pressed the button. But before the doors could close, the girl who had just proclaimed herself to have a cursed tongue stepped into the elevator in sheer carelessness. The two girls outside gasped in shock. Zain's face went pale, while Mutahir, with lightning speed, grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. Everything happened so instantaneously that everyone's senses were paralyzed; if there had been a delay of even a few seconds, the girl would have been crushed by the door.

Mutahir gently released his grip from her wrist. Her legs were trembling, and her forehead was soaked with sweat.

"Are you okay, Miss?" Zain looked at the girl's unusual state with concern, but she was in no condition to reply. With lifeless legs, she slid down to the floor. Mutahir stopped Shah from speaking to her and watched her two companions arriving via the escalator. When the elevator stopped on the ground floor, he quickly pulled Zain out by the hand.

"Man! That girl needed our help. She was in such a terrible state—" Zain finally spoke up as he got into the car with him in the parking lot.

"She didn't need us; she needed someone of her own—someone she could hug and wash away her fear and terror in tears." Mutahir replied soberly as he reversed the car.

Shahzain took a deep breath and looked at him. "Man! You have nerves of steel. I realized it today. My mind stopped working entirely in that situation. If you hadn't pulled her inside at the right moment, that poor girl... ugh!" He shuddered.

Mutahir looked at him with a smile. "And I realized today how attentively you listen to girls' conversations." His tone was playful.

"It's not like that! I was just drawn by that girl's innocence," he said softly, shrugging his shoulders. "Mutahir! You are truly great, man."

"What have I done that you are so bent on proving I'm great?" Wrinkles formed on his forehead; he didn't like Zain's remark.

"Because you're going to treat me to lunch right now, and I really loved the wristwatch you bought. You have to give me a birthday gift anyway, so I'm saying it directly—give me that watch." Saying this with absolute composure, he looked at Mutahir's face, who was staring back at him in astonishment.

"Now don't make such a pitiful face. Stinginess doesn't suit you. By the way, I also want that blue shirt Zoya gave you to celebrate your new job."

Mutahir's foot slammed on the brake reflexively; the car jolted to a stop.

"What happened? Why did you stop the car?"

"The things you just listed—when exactly do you want them?" Mutahir asked in a dead-serious tone. His white shirt cuffs were rolled up, his hair slightly disheveled, and his fair face carried a faint flush over a light stubble.

Shahzain smiled. "On my birthday."

"The same birthday that passed the day before yesterday, where you forcefully demanded gifts from everyone?"

"Forcefully? Meaning you didn't give me gifts happily on my birthday?" Zain looked at him with mock shock. But seeing that same familiar smirk on Mutahir's face, he smiled too—knowing that Mutahir's rare smile was no less than a precious gift itself.

"If you all could set aside your self-created busy routines for a few moments, I would like to say something."

Hamza clinked his spoon and glared at everyone as if he wanted to devour them. Hoor, Hafsa, and Angeline were bent over a magazine. Shariq, Khuzaima, and Shahzain were huddled around Shariq's phone. Mutahir was busy on his laptop. Everyone glanced at him for just a second and went right back to what they were doing.

Shocked by such grand respect, Hamza looked at everyone and stormed off to sit alone near the door, stomping his feet.

"Hey, Double MA!" Shahzain sat next to Mutahir on the sofa.

"Yeah, speak." Without looking up, Mutahir replied in a busy tone while typing away on the keypad. Meanwhile, Saiqa quickly looked toward the two of them.

"Mutahir! Have you done a double MA?" she asked with genuine curiosity, making everyone burst into laughter except Mutahir.

"His lordship has only taken a law degree; he is a lawyer, mind you," Zain corrected her misunderstanding with a smile (a week ago, Shariq and Saiqa had come from Mehrepur with Noreen, whereas Shahzain had lived with his paternal aunt from the beginning).

"But just now you were calling Mutahir Brother 'Double MA'."

"Saiqa!" Zain glared at his sister. "Shut up. Why are you pestering Mutahir?"

Saiqa made a face and turned away; she was a 10th-grade student.

"Shahzain!" Mutahir glared at him with mock annoyance. "For the crime of speaking rudely to my doll, you are banished from the sofa. Vacate the seat immediately. My princess will sit here." Zain dutifully got up, while Saiqa sat beside Mutahir with a triumphant smile.

"Guys! We've made a plan," Hamza reappeared in front of them.

"Who is included in 'we'?" Shariq asked, stuffing his phone into his pocket.

"Me and Shahzain." He sat down beside him.

"And what's the plan?" Angeline raised her head.

"A picnic!" Hamza looked at Shahzain for approval, who nodded vigorously.

"I'm busy, guys. You go ahead and enjoy," Mutahir said seriously.

"It's always you and your busyness!" Khuzaima glared at him.

"Come on, man, agree!" Hamza pleaded.

"You know the hearing for the case is the day after tomorrow. I need to meet the client and clear up a few points."

"Anjee! You plead our case," Khuzaima said, and Angeline's eyes reflexively shifted toward Mutahir, who turned his attention to her as well.

"I can't, because I know Mutahir is genuinely busy."

"Thanks for supporting me," Mutahir said with sincere warmth, and Angeline smiled in return.

"Okay, if Mutahir isn't going, then the girls' plan is canceled too. We four guys will plan something." Hamza spoke firmly.

The girls glared at him.

"And why is that?" Hafsa snapped at Hamza.

"Not in celebration of Mutahir not going, but in grief!" Khuzaima rushed to Hamza's defense.

"Is this your final decision?" Hoor looked at both of them turn by turn.

"Absolutely final. There is zero scope for negotiation."

"I pray to God Dad doesn't let you go at all! May he remember some chore that only Hamza and Shahzain can do!" Hafsa raised both hands toward the sky. The girls laughed at her drama, while the boys glared at her.

Just then, Farooq entered the lounge. Seeing him, everyone straightened up respectfully.

"Where are your mothers?" He sat down near Shariq and Hamza.

"They're over at Uncle's house—that's why Hamza and Shariq are visible here!" Shahzain sat up politely.

"It's good I found you both here." Uncle Farooq looked at Hamza and Zain.

"Is everything alright, Uncle? Is there any work?" Khuzaima's tone was the epitome of obedience, making it hard for the girls to hold back their laughter.

"Remember to leave for Multan early tomorrow morning, both of you (Zain and Hamza)—"

"Why?" The words choked out of both their mouths simultaneously, earning a stern look from Farooq.

"I told you both last week that you have to attend Sohail's son's Valima reception. Where are your minds?"

"Sorry, Uncle! Actually..." Hamza saw the girls' faces turning red as they tried to choke back laughter. "We were planning something."

"Like what?" Farooq looked at them seriously.

"Since Shariq and Khuzaima are leaving next week, we were planning a picnic."

"That's fine, but they still have five days left before they leave. You only have to go to Multan for a day—plan something when you get back," Farooq said, rising to his feet.

"You cursed tongue, cut your tongue out!" The moment Farooq walked out of sight, Hamza lunged at Hafsa in fury.

"How dare you call me a cursed tongue?" She stood her ground, ready to fight back. Everyone except Zain enjoyed their squabble.

"I'm telling the truth—your tongue is cursed! The moment you uttered that bad omen, Uncle passed down the order!" Hamza gave an example to prove her tongue was cursed. Shahzain burst out laughing.

"You must be the one with a cursed tongue!" Hafsa grit her teeth, Zain's laughter stoking her anger further. "Has no one taught you any manners? You don't use such words for girls!"

"And why shouldn't I say 'cursed tongue'?" Hamza asked with mock innocence, enjoying her reaction (the girls' faces were proof of the immense self-restraint they were enduring).

"By the way, man, why are our girls acting so much? I've heard girls take pride in having a cursed tongue!" Shahzain said with exaggerated curiosity, looking at Mutahir, whose face broke into a subtle smile.

"What can I say?"

"You apologize, Hamza!" Anjee said with annoyance.

"On what grounds?" He jumped up.

"Drop it, what pointless argument are you getting into?" Seeing the situation escalate, Mutahir had to intervene. "It's good that you two are attending the Valima tomorrow. I'll wrap up my case, and then we'll plan something—and yes, girls won't be part of this plan."

"But why?" Hoor looked at Mutahir with frustration, but settled down upon seeing his quiet, warning gaze. The boys smirked.

"This will be strictly a guys' trip. You girls can plan something separate for yourselves."

"What is your problem with us anyway?" Angeline asked seriously.

"Privacy is also the name of a bird—maybe you've heard of it sometime?" Khuzaima lamented mockingly over Angeline's forehead, prompting the girls to glare and walk out.

"Anjee!"

The unusual seriousness in Mutahir's tone forced Angeline, who was standing by the open wardrobe, to turn around.

"What happened?" She closed the few steps between them and stopped in front of him. Dressed in a loose grey trouser and a light mehndi-green T-shirt, he looked solemn.

"I needed to talk about something. Are you free?"

"Yeah, come in." Stepping aside, she invited him inside.

"Who is Abdul Ahad?" Without any preamble, he asked the question as soon as he stepped in, his gaze fixed on Angeline.

Dressed in a pearl-white outfit, a faint blush spread across Angeline's attractive face.

"Tell me, Anjee—who is Abdul Ahad?"

"Sit down first."

Trying to hide her nervousness behind a composed demeanor, she spoke up. He dutifully obeyed and sat on the double seater, then fixed his questioning gaze on her face.

"He is my junior at the campus. Mustafa's brother."

"Aren't you going to ask how I know him?"

"No." Angeline took a deep breath. "Because I know you have a habit of spying on all the cousins."

This time her answer carried a bit more confidence. Out of all the female cousins, she was undoubtedly the closest to Mutahir. He would even agree to her silly requests, contrary to his usual stern nature. Yet, despite such informal closeness, she still felt intimidated by his personality at times—just as she did right now.

"I'm not as free a person as you think I am, nor am I related to James Bond." Seeing Angeline's face turning red, he had to soften the mood, ending with a playful tone.

"Then how?"

Angeline looked at him with moist eyes. Mutahir then placed a page from a notepad in front of her, causing her face to go pale. Written on the page was: Angeline Abdul Ahad.

"This was lying on my study table." Angeline lowered her head, her hands beginning to tremble. Mutahir stood up.

"Just relax. We'll talk about this some other time. Right now, I have to head somewhere."

"I'm sorry." Mutahir looked at Angeline's head, hung in shame, for a few moments, then took a deep breath.

"Uncle is a well-known figure in the city, Anjee!" He stood before her, his tone deeply serious. "Besides that, many people know us too. When a daughter or sister steps out of the house, she isn't alone; the honor of her parents, their trust, faith, and pride travel with her. Remember, if any of these feelings are hurt, no matter what happens, those things can never be reclaimed."

Taking her hand in his, his voice turned gentle. "I trust you. I'm going out of town for a few days; upon my return, I'll meet him, and then at an appropriate time, I'll speak to Uncle."

"I will never break your trust, Mutahir! Insha'Allah." Wiping her eyes, her voice held conviction, and he smiled softly.

"Good girl." Mutahir patted her head. "Get back to your work." He turned and walked out. Angeline watched him leave through smiling, tear-filled eyes.

"Mussafa." Erum suddenly raised her eyes while making notes.

"Yeah..."

"Who came to pick you up on Saturday?"

"It was Dad. Why?" Mustafa paused her hand and looked at her.

"Didn't you used to go with your brother before?" Her demeanor seemed thoughtful.

"Yeah, I usually do. Actually, we stay here in the city with my aunt's family; she has two daughters studying in 8th and 9th grade, while Dad stays in the village. We go to the village over the weekends and return on Monday morning. Brother was busy this week, so Dad came to fetch me." Saffa put down her pointer and answered in detail.

"Hmm... so where is your uncle?"

"He is in Saudi Arabia. It was on his request that Brother agreed to stay here."

"By the way, Mussafa!" Erum became excited. "What a handsome and dashing personality your uncle has!"

"That he does," Mussafa smiled, then looked at Erum with innocent annoyance. "Don't you like my brother?"

"He's fine, but Uncle's personality is exceptionally attractive! By the way, I wanted to tell you something."

"Sure, go ahead."

"I've seen Angeline Farooq with your brother two or three times," Erum whispered. Saffa was startled and looked at Erum in disbelief.

"When and where?"

"In the library. Didn't you know?"

Mussafa shook her head, and Erum smiled at her reaction. "You are completely different from both your father and brother—a total unique."

"Unique? Meaning I have horns growing out of my head?"

"Not horns—" Erum burst out laughing. "You are very innocent, but your brother seems arrogant."

"No! My brother is very polite and decent," Mussafa said defensively. "He speaks with so much love and gentleness."

"Could be," Erum shrugged. "It's not like I've ever spoken to him. Don't be upset."

"Forget all that! I'm just so happy... Brother and Angeline Farooq... Wow!" Saffa got excited. "I really like her."

"She is nice, and they make a good pair too."

"Did you buy that dress, Erum?" Mussafa asked as she remembered.

"Yeah, my brother went along." As she spoke, she looked at Mussafa's face with playful eyes, which was glowing with excitement. "Do you remember those guys, Mussafa?"

"Which guys?" She looked at Erum in surprise, her smile vanishing.

"You know... those ones!" Her raised eyebrows carried a meaningful gesture. Mussafa's face turned pink, and a warm sensation spread where a firm hand had once gripped her right wrist. Erum observed her face with interest.

"How did they look? From a distance, they seemed quite handsome."

"I don't know," rubbing her wrist against her scarf instinctively, her voice dropped low. "It's not like I looked at their faces. The situation became so awkward; I just wanted the ground to split open and swallow me whole."

That single moment—when Mussafa Abdul Rahim had stumbled like a lifeless doll and bumped into that stranger—had lasted only a second, but it was the worst moment of her life. Shaking her head, she pulled herself out of that memory. Erum held her hand.

"Relax. You should brush off those thoughts and be grateful for that moment when that person became an angel of mercy and saved you from the jaws of death. He is your benefactor."

"Yeah," Mussafa took a deep breath and agreed with her.

"Ugh, when Mutahir came to my room and mentioned your name, my heart almost jumped out of my chest for a second!" Anjee whispered to Abdul Ahad as she opened her book. Sliding the book toward himself, he looked up, startled.

"Who's Mutahir?"

"My aunt's son." Abdul Ahad rested both arms on the table and looked at her face.

"Come on, today you have to tell me about everyone in your family in detail."

"My father and uncle are two brothers. We are three sisters—Hafsa, me, and Hoor. Uncle lives in Mehrepur. He has four children—Shariq, Khuzaima, Shahzain, and the youngest is Saiqa. Zain lives here with my eldest aunt, who has been staying with us since her husband passed away. She has an only son, Mutahir—he's a lawyer. Their house is built; they'll shift in about a month or month and a half.

Then there's Aunt Jabeen—she has two sons, Hamza and Shuaib. Shuaib is married and has a son. Some of them work, including Mutahir, Shahzain, Shariq, and Shuaib, while the rest are studying."

"Aren't you going to ask about me?"

"Principally speaking, when a person introduces themselves in detail, courtesy dictates that the other person should introduce themselves too."

"Very good!" Abdul Ahad dramatically pretended to be impressed, then seeing her smiling face, he smiled as well.

"My family is very small. Just my siblings and Dad. As for me, you know I work at a bank. Dad lives in the village, and Mustafa studies at your campus. On weekends, we go to the village. Here, my aunt lives with her two daughters."

"What happened?" Looking at Angeline as he spoke, he asked in surprise.

"Such a small family?" She pouted, making Ahad burst into laughter. The librarian glared at him, so he raised his hand apologetically and choked back his laughter.

"Can't you find any other place to meet?" Her tone was annoyed. "Where a person can at least talk properly? Here, one can't even laugh!"

"I like this place. Do you have any objection?" His manner was so simple and filled with a natural right that Abdul Ahad's annoyance vanished into thin air.

"No," he smiled softly. "You have an objection to my small family, but I've heard it's every girl's dream to have a family where there's no fear of a mother-in-law." His tone was playful.

"I'm not one of those girls," Angeline said seriously. "I have no problem with a mother-in-law. A mother's presence makes the world feel like heaven."

Abdul Ahad's smile faded, and a flush spread across his face.

"A mother is a great blessing of God, Ahad! The relationship that God uses as an example of His own love—that relationship must be priceless. You guys must miss your mom a lot, right?"

"Angeline..." Abdul Ahad's face turned red, and tears welled up in his eyes. Anjee felt a wave of sympathy for him.

"I'm sorry, Abdul Ahad—"

"You don't need to apologize." Blinking away the tears, he composed himself in a second. "I'm proud that I chose you as my life partner." He smiled. "Will you grant me one request?"

"Not a request—Sovereign, issue a command!" Gathering her bag and mobile, she signaled him to get up.

"Will you become Mustafa's friend?" Coming outside, Ahad looked serious. Angeline looked at his face for a moment.

"Why?"

"When you formally enter my home as my sister-in-law..." He paused. "My sister is very innocent. Neither a father nor a brother can fill the void of a mother. I want you to become Mustafa's friend—for my sake." His voice held glimmers of hope and expectation.

"I'm not bound to listen to you. Neither today, nor in the future." Her tone completely contradicted the expression on her face. Abdul Ahad burst into laughter, prompting Anjee to glare at him.

"Why are you laughing? Did I tell a joke?"

"No, no! When you say things contrary to your actual nature, you look very cute. Sorry, I shouldn't say anything to you. You aren't bound to listen to me now, nor will you be in the future."

Angeline instinctively averted her eyes and walked ahead.

"Were you saying something about Mutahir?" Abdul Ahad asked gently, stepping up beside her.

"Yeah, he went to Mirpur for a few days. He said he'd meet you first upon his return."

"Good. It was my wish too to meet your family soon. I don't want to delay this matter any longer," Ahad said seriously.

"Okay, then the meeting will happen with Mutahir." Saying this with a serious expression, Angeline headed toward her car. Abdul Ahad smiled, nodded goodbye, and turned to walk away.

"Mom! I need to share something with you—" Zain shifted his gaze from his mobile screen to his aunt, then to Mutahir.

"Go ahead," his aunt permitted. Mutahir looked at Zain; their eyes met before Mutahir looked away.

"When you went to Uncle's house, in your absence, I took on a responsibility." His aunt looked at her son in surprise; this hesitant behavior wasn't in his nature. He was usually someone who spoke his mind without preambles.

"What kind of responsibility?" she asked with equal astonishment.

"I'll tell you, Aunt!" Zain stepped in to help him. "You know when you weren't here?"

"Go on, Zain! What happened when I wasn't here?" she asked, getting impatient.

"He has taken responsibility for a girl."

"Responsibility for a girl?" She looked from her nephew to her son in disbelief. The anxious expression on her son's face felt like a warning bell to her. "Which girl?"

"She is his friend's sister. Due to some family issues, he couldn't keep his sister at his house. You should be happy, Aunt!" Zain took her hands in his coaxingly. "Your son has such noble character that his friend entrusted such a major responsibility to him. Otherwise, think about it—who trusts anyone to this extent nowadays? Besides, it's only a matter of a few months, then he will take his sister back. Right, Mutahir?" As he spoke, he sought Mutahir's confirmation, and Mutahir nodded in agreement.

"Where is the girl?"

"You weren't here, and it was just us two guys at home, so how could we keep her here? That's why we left her at Uncle's house," Zain explained, calming her down. Mutahir now appeared relaxed as well.

"What is her name?"

"Mahrukh," Shahzain spoke up before Mutahir could.

"If you permit, should we bring her here?" Mutahir asked his mother, and she was overjoyed by his obedience, kissing his forehead instinctively.

"I realized today how fortunate I am to have a son like you."

"And me? Don't you feel proud of me?" Zain playfully wrapped his arm around her neck, making Mutahir laugh at his cleverness.

"You're such a drama queen," his aunt playfully patted his head.

"Shall we go to Uncle's house?"

"Let it be, we'll go in the evening," Zain quickly interjected, making her look at him with questioning eyes.

"Ever since that poor girl arrived, Mutahir hasn't met her even once. He'll go with you this evening and meet her—after all, he took on such a big responsibility."

"Alright," his aunt agreed.

"Tell me, Mom—should we bring her here?" Mutahir asked again.

"Not right now... wait a few days. Let me meet her first, then we'll think about it. Besides, Hafsa and Hoor were quite lonely after Aunty left. It's good they found a sister figure."

"Yes, exactly. You're right," Zain nodded, standing up, then looked at Mutahir. "Are you coming with me?"

"Where to?"

"To Brother Shuaib's place."

"Let's go—" He stood up, bent down toward his mother, and gently kissed her forehead. "Be ready in the evening, we'll head over to Uncle's."

"Alright."

"Excuse me—" Angeline was walking toward the canteen when Mussafa called out, hurrying after her. She stopped.

"Assalamu Alaikum! I'm Mussafa Abdul Rahim." She extended her hand with an excited, flushed face. She looked very sweet and innocent. Angeline smiled warmly and took her hand gently.

"Wa Alaikum Assalam! Angeline Farooq! And I've known you for the last four months, Mussafa Abdul Rahim—tell me if you want me to recite your entire bio-data!" She said playfully, making Mussafa burst into laughter—a beautiful, innocent smile. Both walked into the canteen together.

"What will you have, Mussafa?" Angeline really liked this simple girl. Her tone was gentle as they conversed smoothly.

"Nothing. I brought something for you." She pulled a small tiffin out of her bag. Angeline looked at the tiffin with interest while Mussafa watched her face.

"What are you looking at?"

"I am Brother's sister," Mussafa blurted out, making Angeline burst out laughing, while Mussafa herself blushed in embarrassment. (What nonsense am I talking?)

"All sisters belong to their brothers! What are your hobbies?" Anjee asked gently as she opened the tiffin.

"Nothing special, just studying and staying at home—"

"And nothing else?" Angeline looked intently into her bright, attractive eyes.

"What do you mean, nothing else?" Mussafa looked at her in confusion.

"I mean... an engagement, or something..."

"There's nothing like that!" With a face turning pink, she was visibly nervous. Angeline took her hand in hers.

"It's okay! When I come over to your place, we'll find a perfect, handsome guy for you together. Will you accept the guy I choose for you?" Her tone was full of mischief. Mustafa looked at her face involuntarily and broke into a full smile.