She hummed softly as she moved around her kitchen, the scent of freshly cut vegetables filling the air. It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining through the window, casting soft golden light on the walls of her cozy apartment. At 26, Sara is a striking figure, exuding grace and poise as she walks with quiet confidence. She wears a long, nude-colored abaya that flows elegantly around her, its soft fabric catching the light as she moves. The abaya's simplicity enhances her natural beauty, while a subtle air of dignity surrounds her, making her presence quietly powerful and serene. Her dark hair is partially tucked beneath a matching headscarf, adding to her refined and modest appearance. The outfit reflects her inner strength, a perfect balance of elegance and composure.

Sara had settled into a routine, a life that was peaceful yet fulfilling. Today, however, was different. Today, her heart was racing with excitement.

It had been six long years since she last saw Nazia, her best friend from college. They had lost touch after graduation, both moving in different directions, but Sara had never forgotten the bond they shared. Nazia was more than a friend—she was family. Sara had been waiting for this day, the day Nazia was finally coming to visit her. They had spoken over the phone countless times, but nothing could compare to the joy of seeing her in person again.

As she stirred the pot on the stove, her phone rang from the counter. Without thinking, Sara wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to pick it up. Her heart fluttered when she saw the name on the screen—Nazia.

" Assalamu Alaikum?" Sara's voice was light, her smile evident even though she wasn't on the other end of the line.

"Walaikum Assalam! Sara I'm almost there!" Nazia's voice came through the speaker, full of excitement. "I can't believe it's been six years! I've missed you so much!"

Sara laughed, holding the phone close to her ear as she continued cooking. "I've missed you too, Naz. It feels like forever, but today… today we'll catch up on everything."

As she turned off the stove, Sara felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. Memories of their college days—long talks about their dreams, late-night laughter, and the bond they had built despite their different religions—flooded her mind. Nazia had always been her rock, someone who understood her like no one else. And now, after all these years, they were finally going to be together again.

Sara's smile grew wider, and her heart swelled with joy as she listened to Nazia talk about her journey and the life she had built. They were so close, even after the time and distance that had come between them.

But then, suddenly, the sound of Nazia's voice faltered. The joyful tone slipped into something more strained. Sara's smile faded, replaced by concern.

"Nazia? Are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then, a distant scream echoed through the phone, causing Sara to freeze. Her breath caught in her throat as the sound of chaos rang in her ears. She frantically pressed the phone to her ear, her hands shaking.

"Nazia? What happened?" Sara's voice rose in panic, her heart pounding in her chest. "Please, say something. Are you okay?"

But there was only silence.

"Nazia?" Sara called again, her voice growing desperate. "Please, please pick up. What's going on?"

Her hands trembling, Sara glanced at the phone screen. There was no response. The line had gone dead.

She stood frozen for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Her heart raced, a tight knot forming in her stomach. Something wasn't right. Without thinking, she disconnected the call and rushed to the living room, her feet heavy on the floor.

Her fingers fumbled as she turned on the television, her eyes wide with fear. The news anchor's voice filled the room.

"Breaking news: A car accident on Highway 42. A couple traveling to meet family was involved in a serious crash this morning. Authorities are currently on the scene, and details are still emerging..."

Sara's blood ran cold as the words seemed to echo in her mind. She could barely process what she was hearing. A car accident? Nazia... was she...?

Her heart skipped a beat as the words "couple" and "accident" seemed to grow louder in her head. She stumbled back a step, her legs giving way beneath her. The world around her blurred, and the television screen seemed to pulse with urgency.

"Nazia!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "No, no, no! Please!"

Tears welled in her eyes as she collapsed to the floor, her body trembling with shock. The image of her best friend, so vibrant and full of life, flashed in her mind, and the thought that something might have happened to her was unbearable. How could this be happening? How could fate be so cruel?

For several long moments, Sara stayed on the floor, unable to move, unable to think. Her mind raced with the countless memories of Nazia, the laughter, the love they shared, and the promise they made to always be there for each other. And now, Nazia was gone... or worse, in a place where Sara couldn't reach her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the shrill sound of the phone ringing once again. Sara, still on the floor, grabbed it without hesitation, her hands trembling. The caller ID showed an unknown number. She answered it immediately, her voice shaky as she spoke.

"Hello?" she whispered, her heart in her throat.

"Is this Sara?" The voice on the other end was calm, but there was an urgency to it that made Sara's stomach churn.

"Yes, this is Sara," she said, sitting up, her eyes wide. "What's happening? Is Nazia... is she okay?"

"I'm afraid we have some bad news," the voice said, and Sara's heart stopped in her chest. "There's been an accident. A couple was involved, and…"

Sara's breath caught. "Is Nazia okay? Please tell me she's okay."

There was a long pause before the voice continued, the words seeming to hang in the air like a weight. "Nazia didn't make it, Sara. I'm so sorry. She… she passed away at the scene."

Sara felt like the floor had been ripped out from under her. She couldn't breathe. The world around her was spinning, and she struggled to stay grounded. Tears streamed down her face as her heart shattered into a million pieces. Nazia—her best friend, her soul sister—was gone.

"No... no!" Sara cried out, her voice full of disbelief. "No, this can't be true! You're lying. Please, please tell me you're lying!"

"I'm sorry," the voice said again, a note of sympathy in their tone. "We're doing everything we can, but right now, we need to make sure everything is handled. There's someone here with her... a child. It's Nazia's daughter. She's only three years old, and we don't know who to contact."

Sara's body went cold at the mention of the child. Nazia's daughter… the little girl she had never met. Sara's mind raced, but the words tumbled out before she could process them. "I'll come. Please, keep her safe until I get there. I'll take care of her. Please."

The voice on the other end confirmed the address, and Sara hung up the phone, her entire body trembling. Her legs felt weak, and the room spun around her. Without a second thought, she pushed herself up from the floor, wiping away her tears, her heart heavy with grief and determination. She had lost her best friend, but she wasn't about to lose the one piece of Nazia that remained.

With no time to waste, Sara grabbed her keysand rushed out the door. She didn't know what awaited her, but one thing was certain—she was going to find Nazia's daughter, and she was going to give her the life she deserved.



A 28-year-old man with striking features, hurried into the hospital, his tall, lean frame tense with urgency. His dark, tousled hair framed a face marked by concern, while his piercing blue eyes shone with desperation. Blood stained his shirt, pants, and hands, the red marks stark against his otherwise immaculate appearance—a grim reminder of the accident he had been unknowingly involved in.

He approached the receptionist, his voice rough with worry. "I need the form," he said, his words clipped.

"Name?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Christopher," he replied, after a pause barely looking at her as she handed him the form.

She nodded and handed him the form without asking further questions. He took it with trembling hands, his fingers brushing against hers, but he barely noticed. His mind was consumed with the thought of the woman and child, lying in that hospital, hanging between life and death. He could feel the pressure mounting, his own emotions threatening to boil over.

As he filled out the form, his gaze flickered back and forth from the paper to the clock on the wall. Time was slipping away, and he couldn't afford to waste a single second. Finally, he handed the completed form back to the receptionist.

"Please," he said, his voice cracking, "Do hurry."

Just as the receptionist reached for the form, the sound of hurried footsteps caught his attention. A doctor in a white coat entered the reception area, his expression serious.

"We need to investigate the accident first before we can proceed with treatment," the doctor said, glancing at the form.

Christopher's blood ran cold. He could feel the anger rising within him, his patience slipping away.

"Are you serious?" he demanded, his voice rising. "A person is fighting for their life, and you're talking about an investigation? And what about the child? She's waiting for her mother, and you're going on about procedures and paperwork. Is this what humanity has come to? You should be ashamed of yourselves. You're here to save lives, not be the reason someone dies!"

The words came out in a rush, his frustration overwhelming him. He didn't care about the formalities right now. He just wanted them to help, to act quickly. Every moment felt like an eternity.

The doctor's face hardened, but before he could respond, Christopher took a step closer, his voice low but fierce.

"I'll pay double," he said urgently. "Anything you need. Just please, save them. Do your job, and save them. Don't let them die over bureaucracy!"

The doctor hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting Christopher's. There was something in his gaze that softened, as though he understood the raw emotion behind the plea.

"Okay," the doctor replied, his voice firm but tinged with compassion. "I'll do my best. But you need to understand, we can't guarantee anything."

Christopher nodded, his eyes filled with desperation. "Just do everything you can."

Without another word, the doctor turned and hurried toward the operation theater. Christopher stood there, his chest heaving with frustration and helplessness, but his determination never wavered. He would do anything to make sure they survived this. Anything.



Sara's breath came in short bursts as she sprinted through the hospital's entrance, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. Her heart raced, not from the physical exertion, but from the fear that had gripped her ever since the phone call. Nazia—her best friend, her confidante—was in the hospital, and Sara had no idea what had happened. The anxiety twisted inside her, making it hard to focus on anything other than the need to find her.

She reached the reception desk, her eyes wild with panic. The receptionist looked up at her, unperturbed by the urgency in Sara's voice.

"I'm Sara," she said, breathlessly, her hands trembling. "I got a call from here. Where is Nazia? Please, I need to know where she is."

The receptionist's face softened, and she nodded as if she'd been expecting her. "Thank you, ma'am. You're here now," she said, reaching for a piece of paper. Without hesitation, she handed it to Sara. "Here's her ward number. Please, take care."

Sara barely registered the receptionist's words, her mind already racing ahead. She glanced at the ward number, quickly committing it to memory before turning toward the hallway. Her legs moved on their own, carrying her toward the ward, her focus entirely on finding her friend.

As she rushed away, her thoughts were a blur of worry and questions. She had to get there. She had to be there for Nazia. Time felt like it was slipping away, but no matter how fast she moved, the weight of uncertainty seemed to slow her progress. Still, she pushed forward, determined to reach her friend's side, no matter what it took.



Sara's steps were heavy, her mind clouded with a storm of emotions. As she walked down the sterile, dimly lit hallway, her heart couldn't help but whisper a silent prayer—dua—for her friend. "Please, let her be okay. Please, let her pull through," she begged in her heart. But deep down, amidst the fear and hope, there was a sinking feeling that gnawed at her soul. What if it was too late?

The thought was unbearable, yet impossible to ignore. The world seemed to close in around her, each step taking her closer to a truth she wasn't ready to face.

When Sara reached the ward, her hand trembled as it hovered over the door handle. She hesitated for a moment, trying to steady herself. The fear in her chest was suffocating, but she had to see her friend. She had to know.

Just as her fingers wrapped around the cool metal handle, a voice echoed from behind her.

"Miss Sara?"

Sara's heart skipped a beat. She froze, turning slowly to find a doctor approaching her with a serious expression. His face was impassive, but there was something in his eyes—something that made Sara's stomach drop.

She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper, "Doctor... how is she?"

The doctor's face softened, and he gave a slight nod. "Please, come with me. I need to talk to you."

Sara's pulse quickened, but she nodded, unable to find the strength to speak. Her legs carried her mechanically toward the doctor's office, each step heavier than the last. She was bracing herself, already knowing that the words she was about to hear would shatter her.

As they entered the doctor's cabin, she could barely hold herself together, her body trembling from the anticipation of what was to come. The door clicked shut behind them, and she knew, with a heavy certainty, that the moment of truth was near.



The doctor's voice was gentle but carried the weight of an unbearable truth. He looked at Sara with a mixture of sympathy and reluctance as he spoke, his words almost hesitant. "Thank you for coming. We couldn't find anyone to call at first. Luckily, we found your number in your friend's mobile, so we reached out to you." He paused, his expression grave. "I want to tell you something important."

Sara's heart beat faster, her chest tightening as her mind raced. She nodded slowly, bracing herself for whatever was coming next.

The doctor took a breath before continuing. "A gentleman brought them to the hospital. I... I couldn't find out much about him, as he left shortly after bringing them in."

Sara's brows furrowed, confusion sweeping over her for a moment. "A gentleman?" she echoed, her voice cracking. "Do you mean someone helped them?"

The doctor nodded, his eyes shifting downward. "Yes, but we couldn't get much information. He disappeared before we could speak with him further."

Sara's mind was spinning, but there was something deeper she had to know. Her voice wavered as she asked, "Doctor, what about Nazia? How... how is she doing?"

The doctor's face fell, and his gaze softened with sorrow. "We're so sorry," he said, his voice heavy with grief. "We couldn't save her... or her husband."

Sara's world seemed to tilt. The news hit her like a physical blow. She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She fought to keep herself composed, but the tears burned at the back of her eyes, threatening to spill. No. It couldn't be true. She gripped the edge of the chair she was standing near, trying to steady herself, but the pain was unbearable.

Her voice trembled as she asked the only question that mattered now, her heart clinging to the fragile thread of hope. "What about the child? Is she... is she alright?"

The doctor gave a small, tired nod, his voice softer now. "The child... she's in the ward room. She's stable for now."

Sara's eyes filled with relief, but the grief for her friend still threatened to drown her. "Please, doctor," she said, her voice urgent and desperate. "Take me to her. I want to see her. Please."

Without a word, the doctor nodded and led her out of the cabin, his steps echoing in the silence of the hallway. As they walked, Sara's mind raced. She wasn't sure if she could bear to see the child, knowing the loss that had come with her arrival at the hospital. But she had to. She had to be there for her now, just as she had always promised Nazia she would.