chapter 1
“No, Mama… you did it. It is solely your fault.”
Laila’s voice pierced through the air, her breaths heavy and her voice trembling with fury.
“No, Laila, please don’t say that. You have misunderstood it. I—I can explain.”
Zartasha reached for her daughter with trembling hands, but she felt painfully powerless in the face of her daughter’s fury. Laila’s accusing tone shattered her heart into pieces—pieces she tried to gather, but which only wounded her. She felt anguish clinging to the armor she had built for herself—the one that made her appear strong.
“Explain?” Laila let out a hollow laugh. “You want to explain how you indirectly murdered my father?”
Her voice was no longer shaking. It had hardened—steady, sharp, unforgiving.
“No, Laila… how could you say that? How can you accuse me of something like that?. Do you even know what you are saying? I needed him more than anyone. I—”
The words broke before they could be finished.
“It is perhaps useless talking to you. I had better go.”
Laila shoved past her. For a moment, all Zartasha saw was her daughter’s dark brown hair whipping behind her before she disappeared through the door.
"Laila, where are you going. Stop! Laila..." Zartasha rushed behind her daughter.
By the time Zartasha reached the gate, Laila was already gone—her figure dissolving into the dim streets of Abbottabad, her footsteps echoing against the sleeping city.
Zartasha's face turned pale, agony and anger heavy on her nerves.
She knew where Laila would go.
Laila’s first step in unraveling what had happened ten years ago.
When she heard the phone call, she could not recall how she got into the car, what the time was, or how the driver reached the hospital. The entire journey blurred into nothingness.
Her mind was a mess, yet strangely blank.
“No… no, not Farhad. O Lord—anyone but Farhad,” she whispered repeatedly. Her heart sank with every turn the car tyres took towards her destination.
Suddenly, the car came to a halt in front of the hospital. She wished time would stop—wished the journey would stretch endlessly so she would never have to reach this place.
She rushed towards the entrance, moving as fast as her trembling legs allowed, and reached the counter.
“Farhad Haider,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Second floor. ICU—room three.”
Within moments, she was in the chilling corridors of the second floor, running across the cold grey tiles, her feet numb with fatigue and fear. Her shawl, draped over her head and shoulders, was the only barrier between her and the frigid weather.
In the distance, she saw a few police officers. One of them she recognised—Muneer Azam, Farhad’s closest friend.
The doctor said something to him. His face drained of colour, as though all the blood had been pulled from it.
She knew what the doctor had said, even from this far away—with the same certainty that the moon reflects sunlight and the oceans are filled with water.
Everything around her stilled. The world fell silent. Her steps slowed, then stopped. A sharp ringing filled her ears. Her heart pounded violently, and her body went numb.
Muneer saw her and rushed forward.
“Bhabhi!”
She did not know when she hit the ground—only that darkness swallowed her whole.
“Nana… I just cannot get over anything. All my life I have been lied to. No one tells me what has happened to my father or anything about my mother. And still no one is willing to tell me the truth. Why? Don't I deserve to know the truth?”
Sitting in front of the heater, on the grey sofa at her Nana’s house, Laila was calmer than before—but not calm. The cold of Abbottabad seeped into the walls, into her bones, yet anger still burned hot beneath her skin.
“My child… she is your mother. The way you behaved with her today… I did not expect that from you.”
Her Nana’s voice was gentle, but firm enough to make Laila look away.
“But Nana, I—”
“Laila.”
He did not raise his voice, yet she fell silent.
"How can you accuse your mother of a crime she did not commit.''
He paused, his eyes softening.
“Nothing is as simple as it seems. You feel as if you have suffered the most… and perhaps you have. But the one who lost everything… was your mother.”
The words settled heavily between them.
“But… let us not speak of it now.”
He reached forward and gently patted her head.
Laila drowned in an ocean of shame and guilt, recalling how she lost control and wounded her mother.
Humans are created with the tendency to err__ and err they do. But the gravest of faults is when you inflict long-lasting wounds on a person's heart while in a state of fury__ wounds that affect you equally, by suffocating you with guilts and regrets later. Guilt and regret that bind to your soul, and slowly become a part of you. Like the dead become part of the soil.
To unravel a person's true self, judge him when he's blinded by rage. Anger is like a chromatogram, separates the truth from falsehood.
At the moment Laila could agree with this no more. Just the thought of facing her mother burdened her with a void, her heart heavy with self-loathing.
“I want to stay here tonight,” She wanted to escape. Escape the possibility of facing her mother, at the moment.
Shame crept into her voice, quiet but undeniable.
“Of course,” he said with a faint smile. “You can stay here all your life if you wish.”
Then, more softly—
“But running away does not solve anything, Laila. We must face what comes, and the consequences of our actions.”
He picked up his phone.
“Let us call her. She must be worried. You did not even let me inform her.”
“But Nana—”
“Laila.”
This time, there was no softness in his tone.
“I know you are afraid of facing her. But misunderstandings… they grow if left alone. And I am too old to watch that happen.”
He began dialing.
“I will speak. You will not say a word.”
Behind him, Laila sat still.
The anger had quieted.
But something else had taken its place—a question that refused to leave.
What really happened to her father?
"I...am...sorry, Mama."
Her eyes remained fixed on the floor; she did not dare look up at her mother, shame pressing heavily against her chest.
Zartasha did not respond immediately.
That brief silence was enough to make Laila’s stomach twist with fear and anxiety. This unseen distance felt unbearable.
“Forgiving is not so easy, Laila,” Zartasha said at last. “But you know what they say… forgiving someone is the greatest punishment you can give.”
A pause.
“So I forgive you.”
“Mama, I am sorry, I—”
''Don't say it if you don`t mean it.'' Zartasha`s voice was sharp.
"Mama, I do mean it. I__''
Zartasha’s voice cut through her words.
“Let us go home now.”
Her eyes refused to meet her daughter's.
“Mama… I want to stay at Nana’s tonight.”
The words came out softer than she intended, almost hesitant. Even she knew this was not the moment to ask—but she could not bring herself to go back.
“Okay.”
That was all Zartasha said before turning and leaving.
Behind her, a ball of tears strangled her, because somehow, that quiet “okay” hurt more than her mother's anger ever could.
She held the diary clutched against her heart, as if silently vowing never to let it go.
Her red, swollen eyes stared ahead, glassy and unfocused. A fresh wave of tears rose, tightening painfully in her throat.
It hurt.
Everything hurt.
Pain filled the room—seeping into the air, into her chest, into the deepest corners of her being.
When will this end?
The question echoed relentlessly in her mind.
This life… this torment… the endless hours of quiet agony—she had lived like this for far too long.
She closed her eyes and let the tears fall.
Sometimes, holding on hurts more than letting go.
“Tasha… my beautiful Tasha… leave this. It will only tear you apart.”
His voice.
Soft.
Velvety.
Tired.
“I know this system. I am a part of it. I see what it does to people… every day.”
If only she could go back in time—undo every choice, every step that led her here.
But time…time could be both a savior and a destroyer.
And for Tasha—it had only ever been cruel.
And she wanted it to end.
The next day, Laila was home.
She did not want to be, but she had no choice.
And things done half-heartedly… never go well, do they?
Any interaction between her and Tasha had ceased to exist.
Unspoken words, truths, and grudges hung heavily in the air, but neither took a step forward.
Tasha wanted to be heard.
And Laila… did not want to listen.
If only Laila knew the truth!
The air in the courtroom was thick, heavy with tension. The rape victim stood trembling in the witness box. Silence hung like a shroud, every eye fixed on the proceedings.
Everyone waited impatiently for the judge to announce the final judgment.
Tasha sat at the back, her brown almond eyes absorbing every detail. Her hand moved quickly across her notepad, scribbling notes with careful precision.
The judge adjusted his glasses, glancing at the final page of the document.
“After reviewing the evidence and hearing both sides…” His voice was calm, unwavering. A pause. “…the court declares the accused not guilty.”
Tasha’s hand froze. The atmosphere around her seemed to collapse into stillness.
The victim broke down, her scream of anguish echoing through the courtroom.
Injustice had won — again.
This was Tasha’s first time observing a court hearing.
After witnessing it, she decided it would likely be her last.
Since the court trial, she was not able to see the world the same way. The world, every bit of it, drained of its color. A feeling of silent dread filled her heart.
She started regretting it.
Regretted choosing law.
Her parents were worried for her, since she started giving them hints that she would leave law school.
So they called Sonia, Tasha`s best friend.
''Come on Tasha. You wouldn`t leave it like this. You have worked hard to come this far and now you suddenly want to drop out'', Sonia paused, let out a sigh and added,'' Tasha this is how the world works. You have to make yourself immune to it. I cannot see you like this. Please, think about your parents...''
Tasha interrupted before Sonia could finish.
''Sonia I cannot... please I don`t want to talk right now...''
''Stop. Don't utter anything. Tasha do you realize the worry with which your father called me. He told me to save you. Please have some mercy on yourself and your parents.''
Sonia's tone was not soft now.
Tasha did not reply. She didn`t want to.
''I am done giving long speeches.'', she added,'' dress up, I booked us cinema tickets. You are going with me.''
"I don't want to Sonia. I...'' Tasha tried to cancel the plan. Her heart was heavy, the world looked more greyer now. She didn`t find even a slight hint of happiness in things that once excited her.
''Sorry to state facts, but I didn`t give you any choice. Now get up before I make you do it in my way.''
''Then make me.'' Tasha challenged.
''Hmmmm... You know I can.'' Sonia grinned and then she stood up and picked up the jug on the nightstand and in no time Tasha was soaked in water.
''Sonia!'' she yelled. Finally, she smiled.
Life grinned wide looking at her, as it ought to make her smile more.
