"There's a situation downstairs—" Javed turned to him after getting off of his phone.

He followed his lead downstairs to the Grand Lobby and halted in his steps upon seeing the scene unfolding before his eyes.

Daniyal's gaze first caught onto the sight of the girl who stood quietly in her place, suffering the abuse. He didn't stop in his tracks until his eyes caught onto the CEO walking over towards her. Just from his stride, Daniyal could make out the oozing confidence and strength of character—but that wasn't what staggered him. It was the smoke of silent rage seeping through his existence, which made Daniyal halt in his steps.

He watched the rest of the incident unblinking and didn't move an inch from his place until Umar Gillani had turned to leave.

Getting to work, Daniyal closed the distance to where the girl stood quietly; her gaze fixated on the retreating back of Umar Gillani, who had yet to step out of the door. Daniyal opened his mouth to call her out, but she paid him no heed. An indecipherable emotion overshadowing her features, as she watched his back unblinking, until the very moment he had exited the premises.

——————————

She twisted the key into the rustic door and it opened with a loud resounding creak. A sudden gust of dust collided against her senses, causing her to reel back in a convulsion of coughs.

But it wasn't solely that which had caused her to stagger back. A strong burst of old memories flurried against her, tearing open the old, unhealed wounds in its trail.

Shaking off the clutches of past, she stepped into the old and dusty cottage. With just the thought of having to clean this entire place, she could feel a spell of dizziness overcoming her. But brushed it off with a long sigh; only to earn for herself another fits of cough from inhaling the dust particles.

Quickly tying her duppata around her face, she pushed open every window to allow ventilation. Following that task, her gaze automatically traced towards the end of steps leading up the stairs, where her room once used to be. A long time ago, when things were much different than now.

Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the door. Her heart beat had picked up, as she slowly turned down the door handle. The wooden door opening with a tug, releasing a loud creak at its hinges.

As her breathing got heavier, she felt a dampness on the dupatta wrapped around her mouth. And that's when her gaze fell on the study table beside her single bed. Her feet wobbling in their steps, as they crossed the room to reach towards their goal.

Fajer felt a tremor in her hand, as it clutched the knob and pulled at the second drawer, to reveal the object of her desire. As soon as her gaze locked with it, she felt herself suck in a sharp gasp, which was dulled by the cloth smothering it.

Reaching out to grab the whistle, she felt a lump lodge in the back of her throat when an old memory came back to haunt her.

"Just blow on this and I will come to you."

A million emotions ran through her face, as she kept staring at the object in her hand. All thoughts coming to halt at one, single point.

'If only our story had ended there—would everything have been perfect?'

With great restraint, she managed to gulp down the lump in her throat and that's when her attention was caught by a noise coming from downstairs.

"Is anyone home?!"

Quickly returning the memento to its rightful place, she turned on her heel and descended down the flight of stairs to find a middle aged woman standing outside her door.

"Assalamualaikum Baji! My name is Shabbo—That Baji from there—Your neighbour—She sent me to help you with cleaning." Fajer watched her skeptically from the last step of the staircase. Her hand still on the railing, as she silently gawked at the woman standing infront of her.

Shabbo was smiling from ear to ear, but when moments passed and no response came from the young Madam, her beaming smile faltered. Replacing it was a queasy attempt at a smile, as she extended the tray of food towards the proprietress; who had finally moved from her place to take a few cautious steps towards Shabbo.

"Baji has sent for you lunch and invited you over for dinner tonight." Shabbo made a final attempt to pacify the situation. In her whole 37 years of life, she hadn't come across such a skeptic person. She felt subdued anger at this person's ill mannerism; who had in this entire while not said a single kind word to her.

'How can someone be this rude?!' She thought in her head, when the lady pulled down the dupatta hiding half of her face and carefully took the tray from Shabbo's hands.

For a long moment Shabbo stood in her place watching the lady in a daze; who had moved away to put down the tray on the nearby table.

Following that she held up her hand to Shabbo and started typing on her phone.

"Thankyou for your and your Baji's kindness. I'll be sure to visit tonight—"

The sound coming out of the phone made Shabbo stagger backwards in shock. Her hand reflexively coming up to press against her chest, as she gawked stunned between Fajer and the phone. And after opening and closing her mouth a few times, she finally managed to utter the dreaded words.

"Ba—Baji—you are mute???" The pure shock revealing on Shabbo's face as if she had seen a ghost come out at her, felt to Fajer rather refreshing. So, in response she made a feeble attempt at an empathetic smile.

It took Shabbo more than a few moments to come out of the shock.

"Oh—oh—I thought—oh—Very sorry to hear so—How did it—" Before Shabbo made the mistake of making another inquiry, she clamped her mouth shut. It would be wiser to inform her Baji about this gossip first. After that she would have all the time to go on about asking her the juicy details.

She decided with a sharp nod and turned away after bidding her a queasy farewell.

"Nature plays such cruel tricks. Bestowing a beautiful face with a hideous destiny." She sighed in dejection, shaking her head in amazement.

"Thank God Shabbo, He made you ordinary but spared your tongue. What use is all that beauty when you can't even speak your mind!" She clicked her tongue distastefully, while carefully stepping down the steep stairs.

—————————

"—A witness in the elevator with Miss Fajer and Dawood Malik gave his testimony that he saw Dawood pestering her in the elevator. And after that he continued to chase her and grabbed at her, until she slapped him."

Towqeer began his briefing, as Umar silently listened to him, while simultaneously working on the documents in his office.

"Malik Sahab was insisting on her apology after Dawood Malik was taken into custody but thanks to the witness' testimony and the CCTV footage we received, the situation is now under control. As per my reports, an understanding was reached between the CM and Malik Sahab, as well."

Towqeer concluded his reports and watched his boss, who was rubbing at his temple absentmindedly. His whole attention seemingly absorbed by the files dispersed on the table in front of him. But that was far from the truth.

"And the girl? You didn't take her testimony?" He asked moments later.

A shadow fell over Towqeer's face, as he looked down at his boss, who hadn't once lifted his head until this moment. With a cocked brow and a gesture of hand, he questioned Towqeer who felt hesitant to meet his boss' eyes.

"Miss Fajer—She is mute, Sir. I got her written testimony, instead." He said finally, clasping his hands holding the file in front of him; as he watched the blank look on his Boss' face. Not a hint of emotion flashed in his eyes at the revelation. As cold and unfeeling as ever.

"She is an employee here, is that right?" He inquired instead, without a single trace of empathy. In that moment, maybe for the first time Towqeer felt what others felt about his Boss. That he was nothing except a heartless monster, incapable of producing any human emotion. His sole concern remained the wellbeing of his Hotel. Umar Gillani was a practical man in every sense. For even in this instance, the only thing he could care about was her credibility on getting hired.

"—Yes, Sir. Today was her joining as a graphic designer. She successfully passed the interview and Mr. Ikram was very impressed by her resume." Towqeer went out of his way to vouch for her and turned his gaze away from the emotionless pit on his Boss' face.

"Alright. Good work today." Umar raked his fingers through his hair, only to immerse himself in the mountain of paperwork again. Towqeer watched this silently, before nodding his head in understanding and turning on his heel to leave. For he knew, his workaholic Boss would be staying late as usual.

"Towqeer—Send me her resume before leaving." He halted in his steps at Umar's request and with a gulp nodded, without turning back.

"Right away, Sir." Try as he much, Towqeer just couldn't erase the disappointment he felt at his Boss' behaviour today.

No sooner did he leave, Umar received the file in his email. With a dejected sigh, he leaned back in his chair. Quietly, staring at the file opened on the screen in front of him for a long while; as he let the memories of past rush over him like a flood.

——————-

"You're late."

Umar stepped into the hallway and immediately halted in his tracks upon seeing the sight in front of him. A frown deepened between his eyebrows, upon watching that stranger sitting beside his Mother on the couch.

"Sorry Maa. You know how important today was." Umar came in and sat down on the seat beside his Mother; hardly sparing a second glance in the guest's direction.

"And? How did it go?" She inquired with a soft smile adorning her face.

"Good. Alhumdulillah." Umar added with a nod.

"Alhumdulillah. You remember Fajer, right? She moved back into that house on the hill today." His Mother elaborated and he barely looked at her as he muttered a greeting.

"Assalamualaikum."

Fajer watched him come in and didn't miss the various colours changing across his face in under a minute. Neither the dissatisfaction dawning upon his face at her sight.

She returned with a small nod and following that kept her gaze fixated on her hands clasped in her lap.

"Did you know Fajer started working in your Hotel today? What a nice coincidence. She'll have us to look out for her." Safe for his mother, the other two sat quietly in their place, with their head down.

"The house needs some repairs. Will you find someone to do it please? I have asked Shabbo and Jameel to help with the cleaning. But we still need a guard."

"Okay Maa. I'll see to it tomorrow." He obediently obliged and stood up to leave to take his call, when his mother's voice made him stop in his tracks.

"Umar, can you please drop Fajer to her place? It's gotten late and it's raining as well."

Fajer's eyes immediately shot up to her before settling on Umar, whose face was devoid of any emotion.

"I'll inform the driver." He returned instead and picked up his phone but got cut off midway.

"Umar, how can she go with driver this late at night? She's our guest. Please go drop her?"

Fajer felt her lips parting in protest but to her utter dismay no words came out. She kept sitting in her place and watching this bizarre exchange.

Umar silently watched his mother at a loss, who kept smiling up at him earnestly in appeal. He could only release a defeated sigh at her antics.

"Let's go?" He casted the inquiry to her; who gaped at him in shock for a moment, before regaining her senses and getting up with her stuff.

After bidding his mother adieu, she took her seat beside him in the front seat of the car. 

It was hardly a few minutes ride from his house to hers, but due to the heavy rain and steep ride up the hill, it was taking longer than that.

Fajer kept her eyes glued to her window, on the raindrops crashing hard against the glass screen. She wondered, if he would ask her about what happened this morning, or anything at all. But Umar kept his gaze straight ahead to the road.

The warmth from the heating system and the melody of raindrops, wiped out the traces of silence in the car between them and replaced it with a tranquil backdrop. Despite being in the company of a stranger, she felt safer than in any gathering of a crowd.

Her train of thoughts was broken when the car finally parked outside her house. Before she could open the door, he stopped her.

"Wait."

He only said this, before reaching out to the backseat and grabbing the Umbrella for her.

Her gaze fell on the umbrella in his outstretched hand before trailing up towards his familiar eyes, which were devoid of any signs of recognition. The eyes looking back at Fajer held no warmth for her and yet, there was no mistaking the air of familiarity, since his eyes first met hers across the room this morning.

She nodded him a thanks and stepped outside. Not stopping to look back, until she had reached up to her house. And although it was dark and she couldn't see him sitting inside his car through the downpour; yet, she felt his eyes on her and her thoughts on his mind.

'Because we don't see things as they are. We see them as we are.'

She thought, before finally closing the door on him.

Assalamualaikum! Thankyou for reading. Hope you liked it InshaAllah♥️🥰
Did you note the lesson in this update? It is one which we become guilty of a lot of times. May Allah swt guide us to the truth and not make us of those who fall into error. Ameen.

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