21 | strategies

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"The risk of falling in love is knowing gravity doesn't catch us all."

Sunday - 8:31pm

"Baba, for the last time, I didn't know who the man was." Hemayal's exasperated voice rang in the lounge of her house, filled with every last ounce of annoyance and irritation.

The Sunday evening was nearing the midnight, the weekend coming to an end and what Hemayal had been informed about previous Friday was coming true as she sat on the couch, facing her father who regarded her with an annoyed expression of his own.

"You saw no human being there?" Shahriyar Khakwani questioned, eyes narrowing as wariness flooded his irises.

"I saw but they were all wearing masks," Hemayal replied, a lie she felt no shame uttering for it was the bitter truth of her life - the Ibrahim Yazdani she encountered that night was wearing all the masks of impulsiveness, irrationality and disbelief. "And when they weren't, I was blindfolded."

Then again, this was the truth for she was blindfolded in her trust for that man; not willing to see that Ibrahim Yazdani could hurt her; not believing any reality life threw at her. Oh, she was blindfolded all right.

"Hami, please," Baba almost begged as he took a seat on the center table placed in front of the couch she was seated on and Allah, her heart missed so many beats as she stared at her father who addressed her with such desperation and worry in his voice. "Remember something, anything would do. I've tried every possible mean to try to locate the men but they've like disappeared in thin air. Please, try to remember something."

Hemayal stared at her father whose forehead was laced with worry and apprehension and eyes narrowed as if they'd seen the worst and Hemayal couldn't seem to breathe as she stared at him.

Who was this man?

Where was her father?

And she was still caught in the whirl of emotions and disbelief when Baba leaned forward and what he did next second robbed Hemayal of her very breath, her pupils dilating as senses evaded her for Hemayal's father had just taken her hands in his own; forcing her to look at the man who hadn't touched Hemayal with such care and affection since nine years.

Nine goddamn years.

Feeling the warmth of her father's hand enter her blood, Hemayal couldn't move an inch of her; the only power left in her was to stare at him, irises not believing the concern they saw on his face; mind begging her to pull her hand away but her heart, oh her dear heart wanted to still the time and Hemayal Khakwani who was notorious for not giving much importance to her heart bowed her head in front of it now.

"Do you remember something - people, place, surrounding - anything would do," he tightened his hold on her hand and Hemayal felt a shiver run down her spine, "Do you remember how long it took you to get back? Where they took you? Was it very far?"

"Yes, I...I remember about...a man..." Hemayal said, nodding her head as if in a trance and the sudden peace and happiness that rushed to her father's face made her heart quiver. "A...a man came to say I could go. He wasn't wearing any mask and I wasn't blindfolded either."

No, the information didn't come to her just now for the face of that man was swirling in her mind for quite some time now but previously she had decided to not tell Baba about it; mainly for the same reason that she decided not to tell him about Ibrahim - Ibrahim was her business now and only she would decide how to make him pay for the night's events or to get back at him.

She knew that the moment she'd utter Ibrahim's name, all hell would break loose and Baba and Lala wouldn't rest until he paid, or maybe they'd just forgive him - after all, he was her husband despite everything. But no, she couldn't let that happen. Even if they decided to make him pay, they would only think about kidnapping; nothing else would matter then.

Chaos in the Canvas √حيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن