"In what tone are you speaking to your mother?" Towsif fumed, his voice laced with anger. Azlan responded with a sardonic smile.
"Mother? Really, Dad? The woman who couldn't even be a mother to her own biological child. How could she be my mother?" Azlan's gaze pierced Haya, his eyes sharp and accusatory.
Haya felt a flicker of fear, but quickly regained her composure. "I don't understand what you're talking about," she replied, her voice feigning confusion.
"Ask her," Azlan insisted, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Ask her why she lied to me, telling me Shahana had abandoned our home. I searched for her like a madman, but your wife showed no compassion for me, or even for her own daughter. She continued to lie to both of us. Ask your wife, Dad, am I lying?"
Towsif turned to Haya, his gaze seeking an explanation. Haya averted her eyes and began to speak, her voice trembling slightly, "I only ever thought of my daughter's well-being, Towsif. I was afraid that Azlan would hurt her, that he would blame her for Amira's death. I'm her mother, Towsif. Would a mother ever wish harm on her own child? I believed that it was best for Azlan and Shahana to separate."
Haya tried to justify her actions, her voice laced with desperation. Towsif, who had been silently listening to the exchange, felt a wave of shock wash over him. Like everyone else, he had been told that the innocent girl he had watched grow up before his very eyes, the girl who had never forgotten her roots even amidst the trappings of upper-class society, the girl who had shielded herself from the superficiality of that world, had betrayed her husband and run away with another man.
Towsif had accepted the accusations without question. After all, in his society, such things were commonplace. No, they had been normalized, painted as acceptable. People had been conditioned to believe that these were normal occurrences. And when abnormality is normalized, those who strive to live a normal life, adhering to the path prescribed by Allah, are the ones who bear the brunt of the consequences.
Shahana had been accused, but no one had bothered to investigate the veracity of these accusations. People had simply heard the rumors and accepted them as truth.
Allah Ta'ala says in the Quran, "Indeed, those who accuse chaste women who never even think of anything touching their chastity and are good believers - are cursed in this life and in the Hereafter, and for them will be a great torment" [al-Noor 24:23].
If someone accuses a woman in front of you, demand that they produce four witnesses. For Allah Ta'ala says in the Quran, "And those who accuse chaste women, and produce not four witnesses, flog them with eighty stripes, and reject their testimony forever. They indeed are the Faasiqoon (liars, rebellious, disobedient to Allah)" [al-Noor 24:4].
Towsif was at a loss for words. He remained silent.
Azlan smiled, a wounded expression on his face.
"Let's assume that you did everything for Shahana's good. You were afraid that I would hurt her. Then why have you treated her so poorly these past two years, as if she had committed a sin? Didn't you see how she was living in this house? Everyone didn't know the truth. But you knew she was innocent. So why did you treat her this way? Why didn't you clear her name?" Azlan pressed, his voice laced with accusation.
Towsif stared at him, bewildered, at a loss for words.
Haya raised her eyes, looking at Towsif and then at Azlan. In a soft, trembling voice, she replied, "If I had spoken up, would anyone have believed me? No. No one would have believed my words. Everyone blamed Shahana for Amira's death. And I had no proof to prove her innocence."
"Let's accept that too. But then tell me, what have you done for Shahana these past two years? She barely eats. She doesn't have decent clothes to wear. Her mental health has deteriorated. Her condition in this house is worse than that of a servant. I've been here for the past two months and noticed all this, but you couldn't notice in two years?" Azlan questioned, his voice filled with anger and frustration.
A heavy silence descended upon the room as Azlan's words hung in the air. Haya had no answer. Towsif remained silent, unsure of how to respond.
Then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway.
"What's happening here?"
Ismat Ara's voice broke the silence, and soon, the entire household had gathered, drawn by the commotion.
Ismat Ara was accompanied by Azlan's grandfather, Tarek Amin. Seeing his grandson's anger, he asked with concern, "What's wrong, Azlan?"
Maya, too, stood there, her expression filled with confusion. Moments later, Mim arrived, her eyes wide with alarm.
Azlan turned, his gaze first meeting his grandfather's, then his grandmother's, Ismat Ara's.
A sense of foreboding washed over Ismat Ara. There was something in Azlan's eyes that was far from normal.
"Grandmother... It's a good thing you and Aunt Maya are here. I need to talk to both of you as well. Who killed Amira?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with accusation, and for a moment, everyone was stunned into silence.
"What do you mean?" Ismat Ara asked, her voice laced with confusion and a hint of worry.
"My question is straightforward, Grandmother. I'm asking who killed Amira?"
"No one killed Amira, Azlan. You know she had an accident."
"Really? Then why did you tell Shahana that she killed Amira? That she was Amira's murderer?"
Ismat Ara's face drained of color.
"Azlan, why are you bringing up these matters at this hour of the night?" Tarek Amin asked. "Are you out of your mind?"
"No, Grandpa, my mind is perfectly clear tonight."
"Ask them, didn't they go to my house the day after Amira died?" Azlan asked, then looked at Maya.
"Aunt Maya, you went with them, didn't you? I believe Aunt Fariba and Aunt Hena were with you as well. Isn't that right?"
Maya was slightly startled but quickly composed herself. "Why would we go to your house? And even if we did, so what? Can't we go to your house?"
"Of course, you can. But not to humiliate my wife," he said, his tone hardening. "Not to abuse her," Azlan said, closing his eyes tightly.
The day Azlan found out about Shahana's miscarriage, he had been searching for her like a madman while she was in the hospital in a terrible condition. She was pregnant. Her baby had already died, and she was in a very serious condition. She had been beaten severely.
"Dad..." Azlan looked at Towsif in a bewildered tone and then continued, his shoulders slumped. "Did you know that Shahana was going to be a mother at that time?"
Towsif saw tears brimming in Azlan's eyes. "I was going to be a father. But my child was killed before coming into this world."
He gave a sarcastic smile to Ismat Ara. Ismat Ara turned her gaze away.
"You are accusing us baselessly, Azlan. Surely that girl must have filled your ears. Right?" Maya said, crossing her arms over her chest. "That girl is just like that. She's a characterless girl. First, when you were not in the USA, she was after Rafsan. Now that you have returned and Rafsan has left her, she is after you again..."
"Aunt, please stop," Azlan snapped, as if he were holding back his rage. As if he were restraining himself.
"I know everything now. About your planning. Maria told me herself. How you all turned Shahana against me. How you created a scandal involving me and Maria and how you killed my child."
"We didn't kill your child, Azlan. We didn't know," Ismat Ara tried to defend herself, but Azlan interrupted her, "Please, Grandma. No more lies. You knew everything from the beginning. Shahana had been visiting our family doctor regularly. You instructed them not to tell me about her pregnancy. Not only that, but you also told Shahana not to tell me anything.
You told her that if I heard the news, I would leave everything and come back, and all my work would come to a halt. And she believed you. But even knowing that she was pregnant, you didn't stop. You blamed Shahana for Amira and Rafsan's deteriorating relationship, even though you knew Rafsan never liked Amira from the start. Shahana kept asking me to come back, and I... I was a fool, ignoring the present to secure a beautiful future. I never thought that I would lose both my wife and my child."
Azlan was now crying. He clenched his fists tightly, as if trying to contain himself.
Then, wiping his tears, he went to Ismat Ara.
"Azlan, my child..." She opened her mouth to console him, but Azlan cut her off.
"Grandmother, I chose Shahana myself. But you chose Maria for me. Today, I'll reveal a truth to you."
Azlan leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "Maria's child wasn't mine. We never had that kind of relationship. She was just my wife on paper."
Ismat Ara's face paled for a moment.
Azlan watched her with a wounded smile. Then, without another word, he walked away. The others standing there were curious about what Azlan had said, but Ismat Ara left without saying anything either.
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Towsif followed Azlan to his room. Azlan was packing his clothes into a bag, seemingly ready to leave the house.
"Azlan..." Towsif called out to his son, and Azlan turned to look at him. Towsif stepped forward and embraced him. He knew very well how much Azlan loved Shahana and how possessive he was about her.
And that strong man, finding his father's shoulder, began to cry like a child, caring about nothing else.
"Dad, Shahana... she's not well. Her mental state isn't right. I want my Shahana back, Dad. You fix her. You make everything like before. You can do anything for me, can't you? So fix her." Azlan pleaded. He had seen the destruction of his love, and the guilt was eating him alive, knowing that he had played a part in it too.
Towsif patted his son's back and said, "Son, there's nothing I can do. But Allah Ta'Ala can. Ask Him. If someone trusts Him completely, He never disappoints His servants."
"Really, Dad? Allah Ta'Ala will fix everything?" Azlan's voice was filled with fear. Love has a way of making people weak.
"Yes, Azlan, have faith in Allah Ta'Ala and He will fix everything."
Towsif reassured him. And faith in Allah Ta' Ala is what makes people fearless.
"Strengthen your relationship with Allah Ta'Ala, Azlan, and He will solve all your problems. For He is not only the Lord of the possible but also the Lord of the impossible. He is Allah. Our Creator, Our Sustainer, Our Master. All your difficulties are just waiting for His single command of 'Be', and they will be solved. You will see, He will definitely make everything alright."
Azlan nodded. In this profound darkness, he saw a ray of light.
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When Shahana opened her eyes, she was surrounded by darkness. A nurse was sleeping in the room. Shahana sat up and then got out of bed and walked out of the room.
"Shahana, just like your father, you've brought nothing but trouble into my life?"
Her mother's words echoed in her ears.
She walked down the empty hospital corridor.
"You stole Rafsan from me. I won't let you go."
Amira's voice now haunted her.
"You killed Amira. You're a murderer and a characterless girl."
Ismat Ara's words filled her mind.
"Do you have no regrets, Shahana?" Azlan's voice rang in her ears.
Her head pounded, and a strange panic gripped her. She felt suffocated, as if she was about to die. She had left the hospital and even in the dead of night, there were people walking around.
Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead.
"You're going to be a mother."
Shahana remembered these words, and her hands and feet turned cold.
She sat down on a bench in the hospital garden and took a deep breath.
Then she heard footsteps behind her.
"Shahana" she heard a voice that she could never forget.
Shahana turned around and gasped. She couldn't believe her eyes. She thought she was dreaming.
"Dad..." she whispered.
Tears welled up in Fahad's eyes as he stood there. He couldn't believe his daughter still remembered him.
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