Later that day ~
The house was quiet. Too quiet. Which meant only one thing—Ammi was up to something.
Haseena crouched behind the sofa, tiny fingers gripping the edge as her big brown eyes scanned the battlefield. Her curls were wild today, just like her thoughts.
.
.
She dropped to the floor like a soldier, belly-crawling past her abu’s slippers, past the napkin-covered tray of boring fruit slices, and straight to the kitchen. The enemy’s lair. The fridge loomed ahead like a frost-covered mountain of mystery.
Step one: recon.
She stood on her tippy toes and opened the fridge slowly, dramatically, like in the movies she wasn’t allowed to watch. Cold air whooshed out and hit her face like a winter breeze in Nani’s village.
No sweets.
Haseena frowned.
They were good. Real good.
But she was better.
She opened the drawers. Moved aside the daal container. Poked the pickle jar just for fun. Still nothing.
Then… the clue. A crumpled bit of foil wrapper in the trash can. Haseena’s eyes widened. Barfi. The scent was still lingering in the air like a broken promise.
She knew now. The sweets weren’t in the fridge. They were in the upper cupboard—the one she wasn’t allowed to touch because “she might fall and break her teeth.”
She smirked.
Toothless or not, I will have that barfi.
She dragged the dining chair slowly, one leg screeching against the floor like a warning siren. She froze.
Footsteps?
No. Just the wind.
She climbed up. One knee, then the other. Shaky. Dangerous. Exhilarating.
She reached the cupboard.
She opened the door.
And there… glowing like buried treasure under a plastic lid... a steel box full of barfi.
Her hands trembled. Victory was near.
“Haseena!”
She gasped.
Ammi.
She turned slowly, hands still mid-air like a thief caught in the act.
“Haseena, chair ke upar kya kar rahi hon ?!”
Her lower lip wobbled.
“Mei tol delh rali thi balfi sulakshit hai ya nali (I was watching if the barfi is safe or not) .”
A moment of silence.
Then Ammi laughed. That beautiful, soft laugh that always made Haseena feel like it was all going to be okay—even when she was in trouble.
“neeche utro sar war phod dogi apna gir ke .”
“pal mei nahi gili na !” Haseena beamed, holding up the barfi box like a trophy.
Ammi sighed. Took the box. Opened it.
Handed her one.
Just one.
Haseena held it like it was the last piece of joy in the universe.
Mission: Meethai Mukti—successful.
Thank you
Sorry for inconvenience
Love and regards to all of you
~╰┈⫸~Heaven ⫷┈┈╯
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༺ 𒆜Ishq Ka Pehla Saya 𒆜 ༻
Fanfiction✧ Phase One: A childhood full of mischief, secrets, and survival. ✧ Phase Two: A college girl's battle between forbidden love and family duty. Haseena was born into rejection. But she was also born to fight. With two brothers who love her, a grandmo...
