"You have been mine since the moment I saw you, and nothing can change that. Nothing." He said it through his teeth as his voice shook with rage.
Zahra (The Depressed), who doesn't want anything to do with anyone but just mind her business, gets for...
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I looked at Zahra, who stubbornly stood her ground.
"I don't want to dump the information on her." She whispered as we stood in the hallway outside Sabah's room.
"Then what the fuck do you want to do?" I returned the query with a whisper, my eyes a little wide with irritation as I shook my head twice. "I don't understand why we can't just go and tell her about Zaid."
"First of all, it isn't that simple. We're not sure how she feels about him. Second, it's unclear how she'll react to Zaid and Qais being cousins. And we're unaware of whether she's ready to face him." Zahra responded, her voice rising with every word. But why did she take Qais's name like that?... Wait a second. If Zaid Malik is Qais' cousin, then Qais must be a Niazi, as are the Malik, Niazi, and Rehman families. So it means, Asad—fuck, I'm fucked. They're brothers. We are so fucking fucked. All three of us.
I sighed, leaned against the wall, put my hands inside the pockets of my high-waisted, wide-legged blue trousers, and tried to explain gently to Zahra. "All we can do is inform her. She's the one who must deal with him. So stop using your lawyer brain and knock on the bloody door, for fuck's sake!" I fixed her with a stare as I felt my ears warm up. Calm down. Calm down. It's okay. There's no reason to get angry. It's okay.
Zahra considered it for a second before she turned to the door and raised her right fist to knock, but then soon lowered it and turned to me again.
"She might not be able to handle it normally. Perhaps we should keep from telling her until we can." Zahra suggested with a troubled expression on her face.
"I know what you mean." I assured her with a nod. "But we won't be doing her any favours by keeping it a secret. If she is not over him, she will need every opportunity to strengthen herself. And for the love of Allah, don't try my patience!"
Zahra pulled her lips together, slowly shaking her head at me, before taking a tiny breath and knocking on the door. Finally!
"One minute!" I heard Sabah's low voice from within. Then I looked at Zahra, who was staring at the closed door with slightly wide eyes, biting the corner of her lips and curling her fingers into a fist. I sighed and thought, What an actress she is! Thank goodness Sabah does not pay close attention to body language; otherwise, she would have realised something was wrong.
The bedroom door burst open, and Sabah stumbled out, looking at the two of us with confusion, asking, "Since when do you two knock?"
"I always do!" I defended myself by pushing myself away from the walls and tilting my chin at Zahra. "She's the one who has no sense of etiquette or decency to knock before entering someone's room."
Zahra's jaw dropped open by the time I finished, and she looked at Sabah and then back at me, saying, "I don't knock because we're literally like sisters. And what kind of person knocks on the door before entering their sister's room?"
