The mansion was eerily quiet that night, a stark contrast to the tension that simmered beneath the surface all day. Mahnoor lay in her bed, the events of earlier still replaying in her mind. Her body felt restless, as if the confrontation with Maahir had left a lingering unease in the air. She closed her eyes, trying to let the stillness lull her into sleep, but the peace didn't last.
Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sound of something breaking—glass, maybe. It came from Maahir's room. Mahnoor's eyes snapped open, and she sat up, straining to listen. A muffled voice followed, and then another. She recognized the softer tone as Farida's, pleading, trying to calm her son. The next sound—a thud—made her heart race.
Curiosity and a sense of foreboding propelled her out of bed. Barefoot, she padded down the hallway toward Maahir's room, the sounds growing louder as she approached. As she reached the door, which was slightly ajar, she saw it: Maahir, his chest heaving with rage, pacing in the wreckage of his room. Glass shards glittered on the floor from a broken lamp, and his mother stood in front of him, her hands raised as though to calm a storm.
"Maahir, please," Farida pleaded softly, her voice trembling. "You need to calm down. Just let it go. I'll leave, but you have to stop this."
"Leave me alone, Mother!" Maahir's voice was a roar, the veins in his neck bulging with unchecked fury. His face was contorted in rage, eyes wild. He stepped toward her, raising his hand in frustration, the action more instinctive than deliberate.
Mahnoor acted on reflex. Before Maahir's hand could come down, she stepped into the room and caught his wrist mid-air. The force of her grip was firm, her small but strong fingers tightening around his wrist, stopping him cold. His eyes darted to her, wide with shock, but they quickly turned dark with anger.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Maahir spat, his voice full of venom. He yanked his hand back, but Mahnoor didn't flinch.
She stood her ground, her gaze icy and unwavering. "I'm stopping you from doing something you'll regret," she said, her voice low but steady.
Without a second thought, Mahnoor's hand shot up once again, landing another sharp slap across his face. The impact seemed to snap Maahir out of his rage momentarily, his face turning to the side from the force of it. His chest still heaved, but he didn't move this time. He just stood there, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes.
Mahnoor didn't wait for him to react. She turned to Farida, who was frozen in shock, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief.
"Come on," Mahnoor said gently, reaching out to help her stepmother. Farida looked at her in surprise, as though she hadn't expected Mahnoor to intervene, let alone help her. Without another word, Mahnoor wrapped her arm around Farida's trembling frame and guided her out of the room, ignoring Maahir's dark gaze burning into her back.
As they moved down the hall, Farida's steps were shaky, her breath still uneven. Mahnoor didn't say anything until they were far enough from Maahir's room, the tension still thick between them.
"You didn't have to do that," Farida said softly, her voice hoarse. She glanced at Mahnoor, her expression a mixture of gratitude and confusion.
"I would've done it for anyone," Mahnoor replied coolly, keeping her gaze forward. She wasn't used to comforting people, least of all Farida, but the instinct to act had been stronger than her usual restraint. "He was out of line."
Farida nodded slightly, her eyes glistening with unspoken emotions. "Thank you," she whispered, though it was clear she wanted to say more. Perhaps something about the years she'd spent trying to bond with Mahnoor, trying to find her place in this fractured family. But Mahnoor didn't respond, her face set in a stoic mask.
They reached Farida's room, and Mahnoor helped her inside, making sure she was steady before stepping back.
"Get some rest," Mahnoor said quietly, and without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked back into the dim hallway.
Her hands trembled slightly, the adrenaline finally catching up with her. She had acted on instinct, but something about the way Farida had looked at her—so helpless, so desperate—had triggered a response in her that she hadn't anticipated.
As she made her way back to her room, the house fell back into silence, save for the quiet shuffling of her footsteps on the floor. She wasn't sure what had changed tonight, but she knew that whatever it was, it had only deepened the tangled mess that was her family.
The door to Mahnoor's room clicked softly behind her as she stepped into the dimly lit space, her mind still swirling with the night's events. She moved to lock it, but before her hand could reach the latch, the door was shoved open from the other side.
Maahir stormed in, his body tense and eyes burning with fury. Before Mahnoor could react, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her against the wall. His body pressed firmly against hers, trapping her in place, his face just inches from hers. His breath was ragged, a mixture of frustration and something darker simmering beneath the surface.
The weight of him against her was suffocating, but Mahnoor refused to show any sign of fear. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her gaze steady, her chin lifted in defiance.
"What the hell are you playing at?" Maahir hissed, his voice low and dangerous, his grip tightening. His eyes flickered with the same chaotic rage he'd had earlier, but this time there was something more—confusion, perhaps. Conflict. His emotions churned, unpredictable and wild.
Mahnoor's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile, despite the pressure of his body pinning her. "What happened, Maahir?" she asked, her voice icy and sharp. "A few hours ago, you were demanding that I treat your mother with respect. Now, you almost struck her?"
Her words cut through the haze of his anger like a knife. Maahir's jaw clenched, his expression darkening. He stayed silent, his chest heaving, as if struggling to find a response. Mahnoor leaned closer, her voice dropping into a whisper, taunting him.
"Well, at least I was good this time," she continued, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't ignore her, did I? I helped her when you almost lost control. So, what is it, Maahir? What exactly do you want from me?"