The morning was deceptively peaceful, the kind of calm that feels fragile, as though the air itself is holding its breath. The early sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft patterns on the floor. Hassan Amir moved quietly through the house, tidying up after breakfast. Farwa played with her toys in the corner, her giggles filling the room with a faint sense of warmth. For a brief moment, the chaos of the night before seemed like a distant memory.
Hassan had just begun folding a pile of laundry when the sharp sound of the doorbell cut through the tranquility. Startled, she glanced toward the door, wiping her hands on her apron. Visitors were uncommon this early, and the thought of an unexpected guest brought a flicker of unease.
When the bell rang again, more insistently this time, Hassan hurried to the door. As she opened it, her heart sank. Two uniformed police officers stood on the threshold, their expressions stern and unyielding. Behind them, a marked police car idled on the street, its presence a stark contrast to the quiet neighborhood.
"Mrs. Hassan Amir?" one of the officers asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.
"Yes?" Hassan replied cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We're here regarding your husband, Rehman Malik," the officer continued, his tone firm. "Is he home?"
Hassan felt her breath catch in her throat. "No, he… he left for work early this morning," she stammered. "Why? What's this about?"
The officer exchanged a glance with his colleague before stepping forward. "We have reason to believe your husband is involved in a criminal matter. We'll need to conduct a search of the premises."
"A criminal matter?" Hassan repeated, her mind reeling. "That's impossible. There must be some mistake."
Before she could protest further, another voice cut through the tension. Tahir Malik, her father-in-law, appeared in the hallway, his face dark with suspicion. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his tone sharp.
The lead officer straightened, meeting Tahir's gaze without flinching. "We're investigating a case involving Mr. Rehman Malik," he said. "We have a warrant to search the property."
"A warrant?" Tahir's voice rose with indignation. "On what grounds? My son is an honest man. You have no right to barge into my home like this!"
The officer held up a folded piece of paper, his expression unchanging. "This is a lawful investigation. We're simply following protocol."
Tahir snatched the paper from the officer's hand, scanning it quickly. His face turned red with anger as he crumpled the warrant in his fist. "This is outrageous!" he thundered. "My son has done nothing wrong. I won't allow you to treat him like a criminal!"
The officers remained impassive, their professionalism unwavering in the face of his fury. "Mr. Malik, we're not here to argue. If you continue to obstruct our investigation, we'll be forced to take further action."
Hassan watched the exchange, her heart pounding in her chest. The tension in the room was suffocating, and she struggled to process what was happening. Rehman? Accused of a crime? It didn't make sense.
"Please," she said, stepping forward with trembling hands. "There's been a mistake. Rehman is a good man. He wouldn't do anything wrong. What exactly are you accusing him of?"
The second officer hesitated, glancing at his partner before speaking. "We've received a report linking your husband to the disappearance of a young woman from a nearby village."
Hassan felt the floor tilt beneath her. "A young woman?" she repeated, her voice barely audible.
"Yes," the officer confirmed. "Her family believes she was taken against her will, and your husband's name has come up in the investigation."
Hassan shook her head vehemently. "No. That can't be true. Rehman isn't capable of something like that."
Tahir, still fuming, pointed an accusing finger at the officers. "This is slander," he growled. "You have no proof, just baseless accusations!"
"We're here to gather evidence," the lead officer said firmly. "Please step aside and let us do our job."
Reluctantly, Tahir moved out of their way, muttering angrily under his breath. The officers began their search, moving methodically through the house. Hassan stood frozen in the center of the room, her mind racing.
What was she supposed to do? Who could she call? The weight of the situation pressed down on her, threatening to crush her. Her gaze fell on the phone sitting on the table, and a sudden thought sparked in her mind. Zulfiqar. Her cousin. He was a lawyer—he would know what to do.
With shaking hands, she picked up the receiver and dialed his number. The line rang twice before he answered.
"Hassan?" Zulfiqar's voice was warm but tinged with concern. "Is everything all right?"
"No," Hassan said, her voice cracking. "Zulfiqar, I need your help. The police are here. They're accusing Rehman of… of kidnapping someone."
There was a pause on the other end, and then Zulfiqar's voice grew serious. "Stay calm. I'm on my way. Don't say anything to the police until I get there. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Hassan whispered, clutching the phone tightly. "Please hurry."
As she hung up, she felt a small measure of relief knowing that help was on the way. But the fear and uncertainty remained, gnawing at her insides. She turned to Tahir, who was pacing the room like a caged animal.
"What do we do?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Tahir stopped and looked at her, his anger momentarily giving way to frustration. "We wait," he said curtly. "And we pray that Zulfiqar can put an end to this madness."
The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as the officers continued their search. Hassan clung to the edge of a chair, her hands gripping the fabric tightly. Every noise, every movement sent a fresh wave of anxiety coursing through her.
Finally, the sound of a car pulling up outside broke the silence. Zulfiqar entered the house moments later, his presence commanding and reassuring. Dressed in a crisp suit, he carried an air of authority that seemed to give Hassan a glimmer of hope.
He approached the officers with measured confidence, introducing himself as Rehman's legal counsel. "What evidence do you have to justify this search?" he asked, his tone calm but firm.
The lead officer explained the situation, presenting the details of the case. Zulfiqar listened carefully, his expression unreadable. When they finished, he turned to Hassan and Tahir, his voice steady.
"This situation is more complex than I initially thought," Zulfiqar said, his gaze moving between them. "The missing woman they're referring to is Shahla Nisar. She's the daughter of Chaudhry Nisar Ali Khan, a prominent figure in the neighboring village. It seems they believe Rehman had some involvement in her disappearance."
Hassan's stomach dropped at the mention of the name. Shahla. The same name that had flashed on Rehman's phone screen the night before. She stared at Zulfiqar, her mouth dry, struggling to process his words. "But that's not possible," she said, her voice trembling. "Rehman left for work this morning. He told me it was for research. How could he be involved in something like this?"
Zulfiqar hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "The timing of his departure does raise questions. We need to confirm his whereabouts and clarify his connection to Shahla."
Tahir Malik, who had been pacing angrily, now exploded with fury. "This is absurd! My son is a respected man. He would never associate with such dishonor. Shahla must be mistaken, or worse, someone is framing him!"
The officers exchanged a glance but remained silent, their duty demanding impartiality. Zulfiqar placed a hand on Tahir's shoulder, urging calm. "Let's not jump to conclusions," he said firmly. "Our priority is to get to the bottom of this."
Hassan's mind raced as she tried to piece together the events of the last few days. The late-night calls, Rehman's unexplained absences, his increasing detachment—it all began to take on a sinister meaning. Could it be true? Could her husband, the father of her child, have betrayed her so deeply?
"I need to call him," Hassan said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. She grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Rehman's number. The line rang, each tone stretching into an eternity. Finally, his voice answered, calm and composed.
"Hassan?" Rehman said. "Is everything all right?"
She took a shaky breath, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Rehman, the police are here. They're saying you're involved in… in Shahla's disappearance. What's going on?"
There was a pause, a silence so heavy it felt like it would crush her. When he spoke again, his tone was measured but evasive. "Hassan, I can explain everything. Just trust me. I'll be back soon."
"Trust you?" she echoed, her voice breaking. "Rehman, I don't even know who you are anymore. Did you… did you leave with her? Did you betray me?"
Before he could answer, the call disconnected. Hassan stared at the phone, her hands shaking as tears filled her eyes. She felt as though the ground beneath her had crumbled, leaving her in free fall.
Tahir's voice snapped her back to the present. "What did he say?" he demanded, his tone sharp.
"He… he said to trust him," Hassan replied, her voice barely audible. "But he didn't deny it."
Tahir's face darkened further, his anger now mixed with disbelief. "That ungrateful boy," he muttered. "After everything we've done for him, this is how he repays us? Bringing shame to our family?"
Zulfiqar intervened, his voice calm but firm. "Tahir Sahib, let's focus on resolving this. Anger won't help us now. We need to find Rehman and get his side of the story."
Just then, one of the officers approached them, his expression serious. "We've completed our search," he said. "There's no evidence linking Mr. Malik to the crime here. However, given the circumstances, we'll need to bring him in for questioning as soon as he's located."
Zulfiqar nodded, stepping forward to address the officers. "Understood. I'll ensure he cooperates fully. But until then, I ask that you refrain from making any assumptions or accusations without concrete proof."
The officers nodded and left the house, their departure leaving behind an oppressive silence. Hassan sank into a chair, her face pale and drawn. She felt as though her entire world had been upended, every certainty shattered.
Zulfiqar crouched beside her, his expression gentle. "Hassan, I know this is overwhelming, but we'll get through it. Right now, we need to stay strong and focus on finding the truth."
Hassan nodded numbly, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. Betrayal, confusion, fear—they all swirled together, threatening to consume her. She clung to Zulfiqar's words, hoping they could anchor her in the storm.
Hours later, news began to trickle in. A friend of Zulfiqar's, a fellow lawyer with connections in the neighboring village, called to provide an update. "Shahla and Rehman have been spotted together," he said grimly. "It seems they've eloped."
The words hit Hassan like a physical blow. She clutched the edge of the table, her knuckles white. "Eloped?" she whispered, disbelief and devastation mingling in her voice.
"Yes," the lawyer confirmed. "Chaudhry Nisar has filed a formal case against Rehman, accusing him of kidnapping his daughter. This is going to escalate quickly."
Zulfiqar ended the call and turned to face Hassan, his expression somber. "Hassan, I won't sugarcoat this. Things are about to get very complicated. But I promise, we'll fight this. You're not alone."
Hassan nodded, though her heart felt heavy with despair. She looked at Farwa, who was playing innocently in the corner, unaware of the chaos unfolding around her. "I have to stay strong," Hassan thought, her resolve hardening. "For her. For us."
But even as she made that vow, a single question echoed in her mind, relentless and unanswerable: Why, Rehman? Why did you do this to us?
The sound of the front door creaking open broke her train of thought. Fatima Begum stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the tense faces of those present. She didn't need to ask what had happened; the heavy atmosphere spoke for itself.
"I heard the police were here," Fatima said, her tone measured but sharp. She set her handbag down and turned to Tahir. "What's going on?"
Tahir looked away, his face a mixture of anger and shame. "It's about Rehman," he said stiffly. "He's been accused of… something disgraceful."
"Disgraceful?" Fatima repeated, her brows knitting together. She turned her piercing gaze to Hassan. "What is he talking about?"
Hassan swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. "They're saying he… he ran away with a girl from the neighboring village."
Fatima's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing. She was silent for a long moment, as though weighing her words carefully. "And you?" she finally asked, her gaze fixed on Hassan. "Did you see any signs of this? Anything unusual?"
Hassan felt her cheeks flush with a mix of shame and frustration. "I didn't know," she said, her voice trembling. "I… I didn't want to believe it."
Fatima sighed heavily, shaking her head. "This is what happens when a man loses sight of his responsibilities," she said, her tone laced with disappointment. "He forgets the weight of his family's honor, the promises he made."
Tahir, who had been pacing the room, suddenly stopped and turned to Fatima. "And what about us?" he demanded. "Are we supposed to bear the brunt of his actions? Face the humiliation he's brought upon this family?"
Fatima met his gaze evenly. "We don't have a choice, Tahir. What's done is done. But we must decide how to move forward."
Her words, though practical, cut deep. Hassan felt a lump rise in her throat as she fought back tears. She wanted to defend herself, to explain that she had no part in this betrayal, but the weight of Fatima's disapproval silenced her.
Fatima's attention shifted back to Hassan, her tone softening slightly. "You must stay strong, Hassan," she said. "For your daughter's sake. She's innocent in all of this, and she'll need you now more than ever."
Hassan nodded, though the encouragement did little to lift her spirits. The shame and confusion were suffocating, and she struggled to hold herself together.
The day wore on in a haze. Zulfiqar made several phone calls, gathering more information and preparing for what was certain to be a difficult legal battle. Tahir alternated between bouts of anger and silence, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Fatima remained composed, though her occasional glances at Hassan spoke volumes about her disappointment.
As evening approached, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Neighbors had started whispering, their curious eyes lingering on the Malik household longer than usual. Hassan could feel the weight of their judgment, the unspoken questions hanging in the air.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Hassan felt utterly drained. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the wall as Farwa slept peacefully beside her. Her thoughts raced, each one more painful than the last.
"How did it come to this?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "I thought I knew him. I thought we were building a life together. Was it all a lie?"
Her tears flowed freely now, unchecked and unrelenting. The weight of the day's events pressed down on her, suffocating her in its intensity. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but there was no one to hear her cries.
The sound of the door opening startled her. Fatima stepped into the room, her expression softer than it had been earlier. She sat down beside Hassan, her presence both comforting and overwhelming.
"I know this isn't easy," Fatima said quietly. "And I know you're hurting. But you can't let this break you. You have a daughter to think about, a future to protect."
Hassan wiped her tears, her voice shaking as she replied. "I don't know how to move forward. I feel so lost."
Fatima placed a hand on her shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. "You'll find a way," she said. "You're stronger than you realize. And no matter what happens, you're not alone. We'll get through this together."
Hassan nodded, though her heart still felt heavy with despair. She wanted to believe Fatima's words, to find solace in her support, but the betrayal cut too deep.
As the night stretched on, Hassan lay awake, her mind racing with thoughts of what might come next. She knew the road ahead would be difficult, filled with challenges she couldn't yet imagine. But for Farwa's sake, she vowed to face whatever lay ahead with as much strength as she could muster.
In the darkness, as the house grew quiet, Hassan silently endured the weight of her humiliation, her world crumbling around her piece by piece.