Chapter 12

In front of the opened glass window, she was resting upon her revolving chair with her black diary and arms resting upon the table. The diary was open and she was there holding the black gel pen in her two fingers. A large mug of black coffee with two aside. There was a smile on her face. She was going insane. She had been up through half of the night. Clearly, Minha Qureshi was heading to something.

"Hmm. Mr. Johnson Peters. I think I might know him." She recalls their conversation in the car.

Taimur took his phone out and dialed a number, someone named, Miranda. He asked him to brief him about this person and she told him that Mr. Johnson Peters was his father's official business companion and his dad's company's 49% shareholder. They talked on speaker and surely, Miranda had a crush on Taimur which he knew of.

"This person may have identities. He may have got someone else involved in the so-called scandal and took himself off from the scenario." She replied. Her forehead was embedded with sweat. She was nervous about the new information but Taimur looked hyped up. Ally, though was the only one licking herself in dignity. She was jealous.

"Minha. Here's what I think. Maybe I can get information about him. We can connect. If you know anyone who can be a suspect, you have my number!" He said driving. She was confused.

"The card?" Oh yeah. The one he gave before asking her off for a Pakistani visit? He read her face.

"Um, okay. Your number?" And he brought his phone forward. The brand. She saved her contact number with a TEL at the end.

"What's TEL for?" He asked. His eyebrows raised. Face mixed with emotions of business and well, romance. He wanted her number. And he thought this was a right opportunity, but…

"My apartment telephone number. It isn't busy in evenings." She pressed her lips together so he may not see her smile. She was playing. He rolled his eyes.

"Well, then this is Miranda's number. She actually makes out most of the calls. Make sure to tell her your full name and evenings are busy." He shrugged and snapped without actually snapping.

"Well, since Ally begs me to, I know you still want my number and you are dying for it," She paused, saved her contact with a dot com after her name. Something like: Minha.com. "Here you go. I need your help right now. So don't die. I will switch my number with Kay for a good night time." She handed him the phone and he gazed at it longer than expected.

"Are you a website? Seriously?" He kept the phone back on the dashboard.

"I am a secret agent working for single guys. So contact me, if you need any help. I do write romance." She smirked and started climbing out of the car.

"Minha!" He called out.

"Yes?" She turned around like a queen who would have been knocked during her hot shower.

"I think you write a really bad romance." This time he smirked and he was left trying to sneak around if someone saw him.

The flash burned with marks on her cheeks. She wanted to write it down. But, she knew Kay would read it anyhow. "The best memories are the ones which are shared by the heart only." She said to herself and closed the diary. She pursed her lips again. But she was tired. It definitely was a lot to handle. The mugs fell and crushed to tiny pieces when she pushed the table to stand up.

Her head felt heavy. Vision was blurry. She supported herself from the wall. But her arm felt numb. And she made it to her bed.

Switching off the lamp beside her, she stared in the empty space above her. Her head was hustle. Her eyes wide open. The night sky wide open. Except her heart. Which was still beating for the belongings she left behind. Her sister. They both nearly looked twins except that Zimal had almond eyes, and a small face. She even looked younger than Minha sometimes, but alas. They were not on the equal sides of the balance.

She turned to her right side.

Two sister apart because of their brother's murder.

She tried to close her eyes. Her mouth opened. She doubted if she was ever an asthma patient.

The empty faced demon with melting eyes. The thirsty blade. The nightmare. The lady with blue eyes and blonde-silver hair. Her laughter echoing in the sister's ear drums. Maaz turning into ashes and helpless Minha held up to an old tree.

She cocked her head under the pillow, biting her lower lip.

Zimal.

She WAS responsible for Maaz's death and she was hiding something.

She breathed in heavily. Her head kept knocking louder and louder.

But the lady shouted and looked scared from the fire that reached both of them.

What was that? Was Zimal not known of the consequences? Did the fire tied the untied relationship of sisterhood? There was something incomplete about it. Something Rohail and Zimal were hiding. She coughed. Suddenly, she was choking. And there was blood. In her cupped hands.

Dread blackened her vision. Her hands were shaking. Blood oozed out form her mouth once more when she coughed.

"I don't want to die. Please." She whispered to herself covering her mouth. She was disgusting herself. She wiped up the blood hands with her bed sheet and picked up her phone. Swiped the recent person's contact.

"Hello?" Taimur said in a hoarse voice. He picked up the phone at the first bell.

"I am dying. Please. Save-" She coughed and her legs felt disoriented to lift her up. She fell on the ground and her phone hit the ground far from her. She reached her hand out, but it only felt reached out. Hot tears swelled up around the corners of her eyes. "I am sorry. It was not my fault. It was not my fault." She kept murmuring to herself. All sounds seemed to be muted. The darkness dulled and she was there lying on the cold floor beside her bed barely murmuring to herself about someone's fault.

She heard a loud bang on the door and then someone's voice calling her name out. Then someone came to her and started asking her something. She couldn't make out a word. She was caffeine addict. She was out of her senses. She was dying. Then someone picked her in their arms and started moving. Fast. Down. And then she was buckled against a soft surface. She felt motion in her surrounding, but she couldn't make it out. She laid there for a longer moment. She was dazed out. But not gone. Then she felt a hand touching her forehead. She wanted to stay away from the touch but she couldn't move. Then someone picked her up again and started running towards a lot of lights. She finally gave up and closed her eyes.

There was silence. There was peace. Her body didn't ache and neither did her heart. She felt relaxed. She wanted to stay there forever. But then something shone above her blinding her partially. She squinted her eyes and then opened them again.

"Minnie… why did you gave up? Don't sleep forever. Minnie, wake up dear!" A voice like her Baba's whispered in her ear. She couldn't recognize the light, but then she felt the outside walls of her brain. Moving her neck around her surveying the environment. It was white everywhere. A canola attached to her fist leading up to the drip bottle. A hospital room. Then her eyes fell on those brown eyes. She stared in those Earth colored eyes trying to recognize. "Manager." She whispered. A beam exploded on his lips. She reached her hand out and softly glided her hand over his face. He brought his hand and held it in his. "How are you feeling?" He asked softly. "Glad." She said after a long minute.

"Glad?" he asked, still looking at her pale face. She was in the hospital clothes now.

"That I am not dead." She made it out.

"How do you know that?" He whispered like her. So that the conversation may not be heard by walls.

"You can't be in heaven." She said. He laughed a little. Then brought his hand and pulled the hair strand on her face behind her ear. "You have three piercings." He said. She smiled. "Yeah. Like mama."

Mama. Her mother. Her family. Maaz. Dead. Because of her. She did not blink and kept staring in the empty space. Her smile disappeared. Her face looked paler. As if she would have seen angel of death.

"What's wrong, Min?" His voice was worried. He held her face in his hands. He looked tensed.

"I killed him. I was tied to the tree. I couldn't save him." She hyped up. Hot tears dripping down one by one. "I was tied, Taimur. I couldn't do anything-"

"Minha! It's okay. You didn't kill anyone. Easy!" He brought himself towards her and hugged her. She calmed after a minute.

The doctor came in. She talked to Minha for a minute and then with her permission she inseminated a sleep injection. "This will help her mind calm down. She had a lot of coffee and she was not in her senses, so maybe she doesn't remember what happened. It's not that hard. We can tell her about it when she wakes up again. Meanwhile…" Doctor politely explained things to him.

Horizon was shimmering and Taimur was in shock. He wasn't expecting this. Clearly he had been a part of war with his father, but he still had doubts if his father was responsible for this. He was always on bad terms with his step dad. Even when his mother introduced him to Anne and Taimur, kids didn't like him. So did their new dad, except he was always on good terms with Anne. She didn't avoid him much. And so she used those 'good terms' to get away from him. Whereas Taimur accepted his managing offer to stay away from him and there, he met Minha.

He knew he liked her when he first saw her. But, after what her polite and beautiful mother did, he swore to never trust beautiful ladies. On the other hand, she avoided him too. But in the past few days since her return, they had been friends for sure. He knew he could trust her with all the information about him, but he still wanted more trust.

At the time being, he didn't want to betray her. She seemed nice and already too broken. He couldn't be one of the reasons for the shattered heart.

The phone buzzed in his hands and he picked it up. "Yes sir!" He said in a serving tone.

"I hope you are not lost. Don't make your dates too romantic. You'll face it bad time. You know that, right?" Someone said from the other side. He pursed his lips. His heart was racing faster.

"Obsoletely, sir." He said.

"And of course, keep your mouth shut. Or no one's ever gonna know about your death," He paused, "too." His giggling was heard from the other side of the phone. He cancelled the call and swiped his hair back in tension. Sweat beaded on his face.

"Mr. Taimur?" A nurse walked in closer and asked him.

"Yes?" he tried to maintain a clear spot expression.

"Your patient is awake. Doctor asked for you." She said and returned. He stood up and made a straight face walking inside the room she was admitted in.

She was sitting in a light blue gown, the canola still on her hand. Doctor was asking her about her present conditions. He smiled when he entered and she returned it.

"Okay so Minha, do you drink often?" Doctor asked.

"No, I don't drink alcohol. But I do drink a lot of coffee when I am diverting my mind," She pouted and then her mouth turned into a frown. "And my health." She was swinging her legs roughly, her hands supporting her through the bed and her shoulders contacted outwards. Her lips pursed and her eyes seemed sorry. Taimur was quite, just watching her all the time. And she knew about it,

"Okay, so what was the last time you drank?" Doctor asked.

"Uh, Doctor,"

"Call me Doc, please. My name is Doctrina. So Doc." Doc interrupted softly. Minha smiled and oohed.

"I guess, it was Eve's party. About a week ago when I visited Pakistan. Like 2 weeks, I think?" She seemed to be just guessing, not thinking in particular. Or maybe she was thinking something else.

"How much coffee di you drink last night?" Doc asked politely, looking into her eyes. She bit her lips. "3 mugs, I guess." She said, swinging her legs to and fro.

"Quantity of milk?"

"Zero." Doc looked at her pale face.

"What's on your mind?" She asked her. Her legs stopped swinging. She pursed her lips.

"What happened yesterday? I never coughed blood. I never fainted so bad, that I would have to stay in hospital for the whole night and well, what happened? This could not be because I had been drinking a lot of caffeine this past month, right?" Doc examined her for a while and then decided something. She put aside the papers and concentrated on her.

"Raise your both hands together above your head. Together, remember." She instructed. Her polite tone gone. Minha looked at Taimur but he seemed to be ready for this. She didn't have much of a choice so she did raise her hands above.

"Good. Now smile." Doc instructed again. Taimur's dark brown eyes still on her now made her uncomfortable. She did smile, of course.

"Walk and come sit her in front of me." She pointed to the other chair next to Taimur on the other side of the desk she was. Minha kept thinking about what was happening. She sighed and walked briskly, pulled the chair roughly and sat ghastly. "What's going on? Do you have a gun or what?" She asked with anger painted on her face... Doc returned to her delightful face and she shook hands with Minha. Minha's anger was vanished and she was shocked. Though, the Man in the room was still sitting with the same gesture in his face.

"Okay, so listen. You were attacked by a temporary stroke last night. A transient ischemic attack (TIA), sometimes known as a mini stroke. It is a temporary period of symptoms similar to those you'd have in a stroke. A TIA doesn't cause permanent damage. They're caused by a temporary decrease in blood supply to part of your brain, which may last as little as five minutes. There is a blockage in supply of blood to your nervous system. But, I am really proud and happy to say that you don't show any symptoms of it now. You need to be medicated for a little time period but, that's for further prevention. Amazing!" She clapped her hands together and Taimur brought his hand at her back and offered a smile of reassurance.

She smiled back, pulling her hair behind her shoulder.

"I am happy to say you are safe to go home. Just don't drink. Stay away from smoke and a lot of thinking of course." Minha nodded and they shook hands.

"Great." And Minha exited from the room, Taimur at his back.

"Are you okay? You must be sleepy." She said walking ahead of him. He was not okay.

"Yeah, I am fine. I am glad, you called me." He tried to maintain the same temperature.

"Well, that's because I got my fingers on the number. I could have dialed someone else." Her hands were in her pockets. She was wearing a dyed multicolor shirt and blue jeans. Her hair in a ponytail. She looked much better. He smiled.

"Maybe form the heaven, right?" He murmured. She was smiling, he could sense it. She nodded.

"So, why are you not okay?" Minha said after a minute. They were walking towards the elevator. He looked at her in surprise but hid the surprise immediately before she turned and raised her eyebrows.

"Come on, I can read your face." She said walking in the elevator.

"You wouldn't have been talking with the same face if you would have been able to read me." He said, but to himself.

"What do you expect a really tired guy to be when he is called in an emergency in the middle of the night to admit a drunk crazy girl because she have been thinking a lot about her family?" She narrowed her eyes at him, "You sure know how to bounce the questions back. I know you are hiding something." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Plus, you could have left me to die. You brought me here, and paid. Which was something I didn't like. So it's your fault. And don't call me drunk and crazy again." She looked away rolling her eyes. He chuckled.

"Madam, a manager is believed to know how to manage a 'drunk and crazy' situation." They were still in the elevator. The beep beeped and the doors opened. They stepped out.

"I am not a situation." She said, pretending to be upset.

"That's the point. Most females in the word think management is circulating about them, when it's just their 'drunk and crazy' mindset responsible for such feelings." He pursed his smile. She was pissed, for sure.

"I swear, if you use that phrase again, you'd wake up dead next time." She made a face. They were walking out of the hospital towards his black car.

"In heaven? But I thought drunk and crazy Muslims are in hell." She turned around, stared at him with a deadly stare and stomped her feet towards his car. It was unlocked because of his automatic keys. She sat at the backseat. He walked across the road and opened the front seat for her and said 'please' with his eyes and she got out and sat at the front seat.

He came from the other side and started driving the car. She peeked a glance at him and he seemed to be in a deep thought. Something was wrong. He sensed her peek and looked back. She wanted to look away but his face looked serious.

"Everything okay Taimur? I am sure there is something. Don't say 'Fine'." She asked, worried. Just in no time, how two strangers can be worrying partners.

"Minha, about the principal of your school. Do you really want to look into it? It can be dangerous." Damn, was he thinking about Minha's safety all that time? She gave it a thought.

"What did you find?" She was nervous. Her lower lip under the grip of her teeth. Her brown eyes returning back to their old face. He extended his arms and brought a file. A pile of papers. He offered it to her.

"Johnson Peters' profile." He said. She took it.

The first page had his picture on it. Bald head and a professional suit.

"I have to, Taimur. Even if it's deadly." She said flipping through pages.

"You were murmuring you don't want to die when you were unconscious last night. Is it because you want justice for your brother?" Her flipping hands stopped and she looked at him, lifting her chin.

"Yes." Her voice was gloomy. "He didn't die. He was killed. And my wish was to have peace. After his death, I didn't have any. I think I wouldn't have any until I earn justice for his death." She sighed.

The sun was shining. People around her were too. They were filled with all the passion and emotions you could ever find in a dictionary. People seemed so busy. Someone's passing out wouldn't make a change to them. They get over the grief and move on. And this way the bad guys get all the open opportunities to work out their illegal games.

And to fight and win against someone in a game, you need to be on equal terms.

Illegal with illegal.

She pursed her lips. Drinking the tears back. The River was not hers to flow now. Odds were to follow her.

But what if she was feeding the hope for a risk?