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*

Haya

At least I ever won't complain that my wedding wasn't memorable.

Hoor and Farhaan Bhai had been threatened regarding the B&B, so my twin was on edge.

Arsal was brooding over his wrong-timing love story.

My parents were being formal with each other, only for the sake of appearances.

It was almost a joke from the universe that Rohaan was the only one of my family members who was behaving normally.

It was clear enough that Dado noticed it over a family dinner one Sunday, which included our family and Chachu's- minus Hoor.

"I cannot bear this." My paternal grandmother set her spoon down, looking around.

"What, Mum?" Papa asked her.

"Seeing Haya." Dado replied.

"What did I do?" I looked at her, wide-eyed.

"Everyone is finally realising that you're Behaya." Rohaan teased.

I glared at him.

"I meant, I can't see her like this. It's her wedding soon, and at this point the bride should be kept as stress-free as possible. She should be loved, pampered, and not dragged in the middle of avoidable family drama." Dado said, sternly.

"Mum, it's just..." Papa began with a sigh.

"Is this an issue that has to be prioritised over Haya's happiness and wellbeing?" Dado interrupted.

My father shook his head, looking defeated. "No issue is bigger than her happiness and wellbeing, Mum."

"I'm telling everyone in this room very clearly: I would not tolerate any of my grandchildren to be put under unnecessary family drama stress right before their wedding. I mean, it should not be happening anyway, but certainly not at such a special time in their lives. Am I right, Tariq?" Dado turned to Dada Jaan.

"Absolutely, Nina." Dada Jaan added. "And if anyone has any problem with this, Haya is more than welcome to come and stay here until her wedding. At least she'll be pampered here."

A feeling of warmth spread inside me as I looked gratefully at my grandparents. 

"Who is troubling our Haya?" Chachu asked, lightly.

"Don't look at me. I'm innocent for once." Rohaan held up both hands, as if in surrender.

"I'm not blaming anyone. I'm just saying that everyone needs to ensure that the bride-to-be gets as less stress as possible." Dado said. 

Arsal, who sat next to me, leaned to whisper, "Sorry, Appi. This is my fault."

"Relax, Arsu. Don't go onto the self-loathing path again. Every family has issues." I whispered back.

I didn't blame anyone. I knew that my family would never intentionally cause me anxiety. But it still felt good how Dado had stood up for me. 

I just wish there's no further drama till my wedding.

*

Hooriya

I was working late.  Sitting at the desk in Farhaan's office- our office- at the B&B, I was ordering out toiletries on the laptop: those little bottles of shampoo, body wash, bars of soap, hand gel, etc, that we provided in each bathroom.

I had been invited to my Dado's house for dinner, but we had a group check in earlier and I had been busy all evening.

A notification popped up on my phone screen.

<Haya: What's up, businesswoman?>

<Hooriya: Just businessing away until I had to take leave for your wedding.>

<Haya: 'Businessing'? Aren't you meant to be the writer?>

An email popped up on my screen, making me frown.

To: [email protected] 
From: <[email protected]>
Subject: Watch Your Back!

Don't go out alone. The world is a dangerous place.

I have my eyes on you. 

A shudder ran through me and I swallowed hard. My fingers felt ice cold and stiff. Who could that be?

I forwarded the email to Farhaan. I turned behind me and lifted up the blinds to peer out at the cold, dark night. I didn't feel like leaving the B&B tonight. I felt safe here, and the journey home seemed terrifying. Farhaan seemed to have read my mind, in a way, because he messaged me.

<Farhaan: I'm gonna be late getting back into the city today. Stay the night at the B&B tonight, if you want. Or I can pick you up around 2am?>

My hands trembled as I typed back.

<Hooriya: I'm going to stay here.>
<Hooriya: I missed the breakfast here anyway. 🙂>

I had learnt from Ro and Haya to lighten the mood if you feel like the other person might be stressing out. It might not take away the problem, but it might relax the other person just a little bit.

<Farhaan: If you want to go home, I can get Faizan or someone to drive you back?>

<Hooriya: No, I'm fine here. Room ten is available tonight. 😉>

<Farhaan: Why is that room always conveniently available? Maybe I'll come and join you there too... 😉>

It was almost unbelievable how we made a crime mystery situation into a romantic one.

I headed downstairs to grab the key for room ten and to mark it as unavailable for tonight in the computer system. I was surprised to see Tahira still sitting at the front desk. "Hey, Tahira. I thought your shift was finished?"

"No, I requested a few extra hours, so I'm doing like a part night shift as well. I'll be done by Fajr." She replied.

"How will you get home then?" 

She shrugged. "Uber."

I felt bad. "Look, I was going to stay in room ten, but I can ask Farhaan to pick me up once he's back in the city, and you can take room ten after your shift."

She gave me a smile. "I appreciate the offer, thank you, but like with any other employment, at the end of my shift, I'd rather just leave the building."

I laughed, taking a seat beside her. "I get that."

A man walked in through the front door, and nodded at us politely before heading up the stairs. 

"He's staying in room five." Tahira explained in a whisper. "He checked in with his wife, but I think they had an argument or something. He went out in a rage hours ago." She took a bag of mixed nuts out of the drawer and opened it, offering it to me.

I grabbed a couple of walnuts. "Thank you." I looked at her. "So, what's your plan, Tahira? Are you going to stick around or...?"

She popped an almond into her mouth. "Mr Farhaan is encouraging me to take a hotel management course, and consider that path. He says I've fit in quite well here." She looked pleased as she told me this.

"You really have, Tahira."

For a while we just sat there, completely ignoring the fact that there was a threat looming over our heads.

"Okay, I need rest." I stood up. "I guess I'll check into room ten. Just message me when you get home, please." 

"I will." She smiled at me.

Before I got to my room, I headed to the office and got my laptop. I was feeling inspired by everything going on around me, and wanted to write something. Anything.

*

Arsal had recommended me this website/app, where we could freely write and publish, known as TypeWrite. I went onto it and created an account. After a long time of thinking, I chose the name: Shy_Angel. For a while, I just looked through the website, getting familiar with it, and then I clicked on the 'Write' button, before pressing 'Create Story'.

And then I wrote, forming characters and the plot as I went along, pouring out my worries and anxieties into my writing. I was good at it and I enjoyed it. I was lost in this new fictional world created by the overworking cogs of my mind. Characters began to morph out, almost as if they were real people; almost as if I knew them in real life.

Feeling hot, I took my light blue sweater off, tossing it onto the bed beside me. I wore a cream coloured tank top underneath, and the coolness of the room felt good against my warm skin.

It was just a little past one when the sound of the door knob rattling made me look up. Farhaan?

I hadn't expected him until two, or maybe even later than that. I got up quietly and walked over to the door, ensuring that it was locked, including the security door chain. I leaned up and peeked through the peephole, but saw an empty hallway. My heart was pounding hard with fear.

I headed back to the bed and grabbed my phone. 

<Hooriya: How close to the B&B are you?>

There was no reply from Farhaan, which meant that he was driving, so I picked up the intercom and called reception.

"Rose Luxe Bed & Breakfast front desk. How may I help you?" Tahira's professional voice came through.

"Tahira, did you see anyone come up who shouldn't be here?" I realised it was a stupid question, because as per regulations, we are meant to get security to stop anyone who shouldn't be in the B&B.

"No, Hooriya. Nobody came up since that man from room five. All okay?" 

"Yeah..." I sighed. "It must be the wind. I thought someone was trying to open my door." 

"Do you want me to send security up to have a look around?" 

"Yeah, if someone does a quick sweep of all floors, I'll feel better." 

"Sure. Do you need anything? Are you going to be okay alone?" 

"I'll be fine. Farhaan should be here in less than an hour anyway."

"Okay, let me know if you need anything. I'll send a guard up to have a look around." 

"Thanks, Tahira." 

"Don't worry about it." 

When the call ended, I headed to the bathroom for the night routine. As I brushed my teeth, I looked at the heart-shaped birthmark by my elbow in the mirror. 

"Why do I have this, Nano?" I'd once asked my grandmother when I was a kid.

"Because you're everyone's little sweetheart." She had told me fondly, running her hand through my hair.

I was used to love and affection, a pampered and sheltered life. I was not used to living in this fear, with a threat to my life potentially. I placed a hand over my stomach. But it's even worse now because now my baby's life is also in potential danger because of this situation.

I headed back into the bedroom, and got into bed, reciting Ayat-ul-Kursi. I kept reciting it until sleep overwhelmed me, and I dozed off with the bedside lamp lights still turned on.

*

I woke up disorientated. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck, and despite being in a tank top in a reasonably cool room, I was sweating. I'd had my first appointment with a midwife recently, and she had said that this was normal during pregnancy due to hormonal changes and increase in blood supply to the skin. I reached for my phone to check the time and saw that it was 03:40. Before I could question why Farhaan wasn't there yet, I saw his message.

<Farhaan: I came, but I think you were in too deep a sleep, and the security chain was locked, so I'm heading back home.>

I groaned. I'd left him locked out! 

<Hooriya: Sorry, Farhaan...😬>

Then I read the other message.

<Tahira: I've reached home.>

Tahira had messaged me around half an hour ago. I felt bad for her. Even now, when Mama got stuck at work late into the night, Papa either waited up for her or went to pick her up. If she came by herself, she messaged when she left so that he was aware of when to expect her back. It was all about having someone care about you and your safety, enough to check when you've reached a place safely. We may not be related, but I wanted Tahira to feel that as well; that someone cared.

<Hooriya: Great, Tahira! Good to know. 🙂>

It had actually been comforting, knowing that Tahira was downstairs, and that Farhaan was on his way. But now I was alone here, with technically strange people. After the threats, my paranoia level was too high. My heart was pounding so loudly, that in the quietness of the B&B, it felt like someone was playing the sound of its beat on a microphone.

My gaze slowly went towards the door. Everything was normal, with the map of the emergency exit escape route on the back, and with the chain still locked. I slid back into bed, staring up at the ceiling, forcing myself to close my eyes. Go to sleep. Go to sleep.

There was a knock on the door.

My eyes flew open and I clutched onto the duvet, trying not to make a noise. I remained frozen there until another knock broke the chilling silence. I lifted my head up slightly, glancing towards the door. Suddenly, I didn't feel hot anymore; I felt like someone had dropped a bucketful of ice cubes over me. 

A louder knock made me jump and I slapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying out loud. My hand was icy cold. Reaching for my phone with my other trembling hand, I dialled Farhaan's number. I couldn't bear this anymore.

"Hoor?" He answered sleepily a few rings later.

"Are you at home?" 

"Yeah, I came but I think you were asleep and the security chain was..."

"Someone is knocking on the door, Farhaan!" I pulled the duvet over my head and whispered. "It's almost four! Why is someone knocking on the door of my room?" 

"Hoor, call security." He sounded alert. "They can check for you."

"I'm scared." I burst into tears. "I don't want to be here alone, Farhaan. Please come."

"Okay, Hoor. Call security first. I'm on my way." 

"Hurry!"

"I'm coming." His voice was reassuring. "Only unlock the security chain when I'm there, okay?"

Once the call ended, I called one of the security guards to come and patrol the floor again, and to see who was knocking on my door, although the knocking had stopped by now. I grabbed the throw that is usually placed on the bed when its made up, and went to sit on the floor beside the dressing table, hidden out of sight, wrapping the throw around me. Hugging my knees to my chest, I whimpered softly. I had never felt this much fear in my life.

*

Farhaan

The adrenaline had wiped away all sleep and exhaustion. Right now my main concern was to get to Hooriya. I sped across the empty roads, considering it a blessing that I didn't come across many red lights. I arrived at the B&B ten minutes earlier than I normally would, thanks to the lack of traffic.

"Sir?" The security guard pacing the lobby looked surprised to see me.

"Did anyone patrol upstairs?" I demanded immediately.

"Yes, Sir. Madam Hooriya called us, and we had a look, but there was nobody there." 

"Check the CCTV footage of the hallway outside room ten. I want to know who the hell was knocking on my wife's room in the middle of the night." I ordered even as I headed towards the stairs.

I knocked on the door of room ten. "Hoor, it's me."

A few moments later, I heard the sound of the door being unlocked, and it flew open. Hoor stood there, wide-eyed and pale-faced, breathing hard. "Farhaan!" She threw herself in my arms, burying her face against my chest and sobbing.

"Hooriya, are you okay?" I wrapped my arms around her, slowly moving her inside the room and shutting the door behind us.

"I was so scared!" Her whole body was trembling.

I locked the door and led her to the bed, getting her to sit down. "Why are you wearing a tank top? Your skin is icy cold!" I grabbed her discarded sweater from the side and held it out for her. 

A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked up at me. I sat down facing her, grabbing her cool hands between mind, trying to warm her up. How am I meant to tell her the truth? From what I found out, this doesn't seem like it's a threat against me or the B&B. This threat seems to be personal against Hoor.

Yes, Mikael Bhai had found out that it had originated from a rival hotel, but as it turns out, the owner of the hotel was good friends with a friend of my father's, Hamza Daniyal. And Hamza Uncle had basically given me his guarantee that the owner couldn't be behind this threat. And the fact that the second email had come to Hoor's email, rather than mine, had added to my suspicions that this was something against my wife.

"Did you kill anyone? Or did you make enemies with a gang or the mafia?" I kept my tone light, not wanting to directly freak her out.

She blinked at me, taken aback. "What?" 

I held out the sweater for her again. "Please put this on." 

She obliged and as soon as she pulled it on, she hugged herself as if the warmth gave her relief.

"Hoor..." I began. "Do you have any enemies?"

"Yeah, being a mob boss is my side business." She replied, sarcastically. Then she realised what I was asking. "Are you saying that this threat is against me personally?" 

"Well, I have had this B&B for a while, but I've never had enemies or threats before. My father has strong contacts in the hotel business even now, so despite the natural professional rivalry, we've never had someone personally threatening us."

She looked thoughtful for a while. "Mohib?" 

I shook my head. "He's too busy fighting off accusations by former students about sexual harassment. He's in deep legal s**t, so I don't think it can be him."

"Then I can't think of anyone! I've had a pretty vanilla life. My parents are not even in such a field that they could have life-threatening enemies! I don't understand!"

I wrapped my arm around her, holding her close against myself. "No matter who the target is, I'll do everything to keep you safe, Hooriya. I promise."

"I'm just worried about the baby. This fear and anxiety isn't good for me. I'm still in my first trimester."

My phone rang and I answered it as I saw that it was from the head of security of the B&B. "Hey, you know who was knocking?" 

"Yes, Mr Farhaan. It was a member of our staff. He's down here if you want to come and speak to him." 

My jaw clenched. "I'm coming." I stood up, ending the call. "Hoor, we found out who was knocking on the door."

"I'm coming with you!" She stood up, shaking her head. "I'm not going to be here alone." She slid her hand into mine before I could say a word.

Nodding, I led her out of the room and towards the stairs. Once we were downstairs, the head of security, Ian MacArthur stood facing a younger member of staff, who stood with his head bowed.

The boy, Scott, looked up at me wide-eyed. "Sir! I just did what you asked me to."

"What?" I looked at him bewildered. "When did I ask you to knock on the door of my wife's room in the middle of the night?"

"After Tahira left, I was at the front desk. You called me on the landline phone." Scott looked confused himself. "You asked me to knock on the door of room ten and wake Miss Hooriya up, and to keep knocking until she was up. And when she got up, you wanted me to ask her to meet you outside for a surprise."

"Why the hell would I do that when I can just call her myself on the phone?" I asked, shaking my head as I tried to understand the motive behind this act. Even on silent mode, Hoor had settings that if one of her favourite contacts called more than twice within a short period of time, the ringtone will ring as normal. "And do you not recognise my voice?" 

Scott looked embarrassed. "I a-asked about your voice...and you-I mean he-he said that he had a sore throat and..."

I ran a hand over my face, frustrated, as Hoor leaned against me.

"We'll patrol outside." Ian nodded at me. "Have a little sweep around the grounds to make sure that all is well."

"I need to speak to someone in the police." I muttered. "This cannot go on."

*

Anabia

It was eight in the morning, and I was heading out for my middle shift. I rolled my eyes towards the stairs, knowing well that my family was still all fast asleep. Both Arsu and Ro always woke up last minute before uni, despite my insistence to wake up earlier to have breakfast. Meanwhile, Haya had been up watching a cricket tournament.

Grabbing my car key, I opened the front door and almost tripped over something on the threshold. Gasping, I managed to keep my balance and looked down. There was a rock placed there, underneath which was an envelope. "That's a weird way for the postman to leave the mail." Reaching down, I picked up the envelope, which had no name or address on it. Maybe it's one of those stupid junk flyers or something... I opened the envelope and my heart almost skipped a beat when I saw a photo of my kids in there, all four of them. But what truly made me nauseated was the red cross over Hoor's face, in the colour of fresh blood. My hand shook and I flipped over the photo. 

Simple math problem, Mr Writer. If you have four, and if one is subtracted, how many would you have left?

I screamed. Running back inside, I slammed the front door shut and leaned against it before screaming again. "REHAN!"

Ro was the first one who appeared downstairs, his face pale. "MAMA, WHAT HAPPENED?!"

But my gaze remained focused on Rehan as he came downstairs, frowning. "Anya, what happened?" 

Haya and Arsu looked equally shaken as they also jogged down the stairs after their father.

Rehan grabbed me by my shoulders, just as I blacked out.

*

When I came around, I was lying on the sofa, covered by a throw. Arsal sat on the floor beside me, holding my hand. I could see Rehan on the armchair, leaning forward, staring at the photo thoughtfully. 

"Mama." Arsal whispered.

I sat up with a gasp. "Someone threatened Hoor."

Rehan looked at me, his face expressionless.

"It's probably someone's mean prank, Mama." Rohaan sounded unconvincing as he spoke from the other sofa in the room. Haya was beside him, a tear running down her cheek.

"Are you not going to say anything?" I glared at Rehan. "No reaction from you? Is this all going to be ignored as a prank?" 

"Kids, please excuse for a few minutes. I need to talk to your mother." Rehan looked around the room at our children.

Without an argument, the three left, although I suspected that they were going to be loitering around outside.

Rehan got up and came over to sit beside. I swung my legs off the sofa so we were sitting directly side-by-side. Silently, he took my hand and squeezed it, before finally speaking a few moments later. "If I reacted the way I'm feeling internally right now, it would create panic amongst the kids, and I don't want to do that right now."

"That's irrelevant right now! Hooriya..." Tears filled my eyes. 

"We need to speak to Farhaan, and someone from the police. We will protect Hoor, Anya. I will not let anyone harm her in my lifetime."

"Who could it be?" I whispered.

"The first name that came to my mind was Miraal Hassan. The b***h has a lot of problems with me. First, her career had a downfall, and then her nephew's legal drama..."

"But none of that was your fault or Hoor's! That's their own deeds!" I cried out.

He stood up. "I need to make some phone calls, then we'll speak to Hoor and Farhaan."

"I don't want to scare Hoor in this condition!" 

"She has a right to know, Anya. We're all there to take care of her, don't worry." He walked out, but then I heard him say. "Didn't I ask you three to excuse us so that we could talk? Generally that means that we need to talk privately." He headed upstairs and our three kids came sheepishly inside.

"Mama, we won't let anything happen to Hooriya." Rohaan reassured me. "We'll protect her." He came and sat on the armrest beside me, before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and kissing the side of my head.

"More importantly, Allah will protect her, Mama." Arsal said, softly.

I looked at Haya, who stood silently with her head bowed. Standing up, I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly. "Don't worry, Haya. Hoor isn't alone in this. We'll all take care of her. We'll all protect her."

"Mama, if anything happens to her, I won't survive." Haya burst into tears.

My eyes filled up as I relieved moments of my twin daughters' lives in my head. I had no idea how to reassure Haya, when I was asking myself the same question.

Who could be behind this? What kind of a sick psycho would target a sweet and harmless person like Hooriya?

*

Hooriya

It suddenly felt real, all of it. I blinked up at my father, unable to believe what I was hearing. Was this a joke? Was Rohaan behind this elaborate prank? But why would my parents get involved in a prank that would cause me terror?

"I don't know who is behind this, but this doesn't seem like a harmless prank." Papa continued.

"I have never harmed anyone in my life." I muttered timidly, like a small child. "Not intentionally, anyway." All I could think was off when Rohaan fell off the swing when I'd pushed him too hard, but somehow he couldn't be the prime suspect in this for obvious reasons.

"The police is sending someone right now." Farhaan informed us. "A detective."

My father sat down beside me, with Farhaan on my other side. It felt almost symbolic, and despite the severity of the situation, I felt warmth inside me. A blanket of safety and security seemed to shroud me, as if Allah was reminding me that He would protect me, as well as the loved ones He had blessed me with in this world.

"Meanwhile for now, don't go anywhere alone, okay?" Mama spoke softly, her face and eyes filled with concern for me.

"Yeah, I had no intentions of doing so, Mama." I looked down into my lap. I have too much at risk now, something too precious. Someone I value more than my own life.

The doorbell rang.

"I think the detective is here." Farhaan got up and headed out to the foyer.

Papa wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head. "Don't worry, okay? We won't ever let anything happen to you, Hoor."

I smiled up weakly at him. "I trust you all. But more than that, I trust Allah."

Farhaan returned, followed by a young female detective. Dressed in black formal trousers, a white button-down blouse and a black blazer, her long hair curtained her face, and a nose ring sparkled in the light coming through the window. Before Farhaan could speak up, she did. "Hi everyone. My name is Saliha Sameer, and I will be in charge of your case."

*

Okay, so thanks to the true nature of the 'Unconditionally' series, things got a little fairy-tale-ish. 

*

Detective Saliha worked with the Metropolitan Police, but she was from a private company not funded by the taxpayer. She explained that while she was in charge, she will be working with her seniors as well, because she said that a lot of people got a little sceptical over how young she was. 

The first main rule she set was that I was not to go anywhere alone, which I was more than happy to oblige to.

"Her name sounds familiar." Farhaan muttered a while later, as we prepared tea and coffee in the kitchen. "I don't know why."

"You meet so many people. Maybe you unknowingly came across each other before?" I suggested.

"Maybe." He shrugged. He grabbed me lightly by the elbow and turned me around. "You okay?"

I looked up at him and I just wanted to break down: scream, shout and cry. But I decided to remain calm, like a mother would be. More than my own life, my priority was to ensure that my baby was safe, and I had to remain level-headed for that. "I'm hanging in there."

He wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry that you're going through this, Hooriya. You don't deserve this." 

"Maybe I do? God even knows why this is happening." I half-joked. 

"We will get to the bottom of this." He kissed the top of my head.

*

**BONUS POV**

Saliha Sameer

That evening, I was in my personal gym, ready for my usual practice. One good thing about having an overprotective father was that he advised me to take self-defence classes taught by high-class professionals.

Wearing grey sports trousers and a black tank top, I started with punching the punchbag. 

Papa had been adamant not to let me be a detective, and I had been equally adamant to be one. I'd won this argument, and now he kept saying how proud he was of me.

"Saliha!" 

The 90s Bollywood music playing through my wireless headphone almost blocked out the sound of my mother's voice. Before I replied, I delivered a smooth roundhouse kick to the punching bag that had done nothing to deserve it. I generally tended to picture the face of all the jerks who whistled at me while I was at work. Yep, I got repeatedly wolf whistled at while doing my job, because some men were still stuck in 1850 and couldn't absorb the fact that a woman could be a detective. I turned to smile at my mother.

Mama walked over to me. "I hardly ever see you now. Since you got back from Pakistan, you have been throwing yourself more and more in work."

"I'm just trying to get people at work to take me seriously." I rolled my eyes. "And now I got this case where this completely harmless girl is being threatened for some reason, so I'll be busy with that."

"I'm just worried about the dangers you're putting yourself in." She gently removed the headphones and left them hanging around my neck. "It's a vicious world." 

"And I'm a vicious b***h." I shrugged. "I come from an Army background so fighting and defending is in my blood. Don't worry, Mama. I can take care of myself."

My phone rang and I walked over to the bench at the side. Sitting down, I took a swig from my bottle of water before picking my phone up. "Hello?" My eyebrows furrowed as I listened to the person at the other end. "Really?" I saw Mama shook her head with a small smile before leaving.

*

Rehan

Two days after the threat against Hoor, I was in my office at work. I was trying to focus, but I couldn't. How does one focus when their child has been threatened?

The intercom buzzed, and I answered it. "Yes?"

"Mr Tariq, Mr Farhaan and Ms Saliha are here to see you." My assistant informed me.

"Send them in." 

A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door. "Come on in."

The door opened and Farhaan walked in, followed by Detective Saliha. "Assalam Alaikum." 

"Walaikum Assalam." I stood up to shake his hand, before nodding at the detective politely. I then turned back to Farhaan. "Hoor?"

"She's at my parents' house. Everyone is there, including Hareem Khalla's family. Don't worry." Farhaan reassured me. "But there's something we really need to discuss with you, Rehan Uncle."

"Of course." I gestured for them to have a seat, before returning to my own chair. "Tea, coffee or cold drink?" 

The two politely declined it.

Detective Saliha unzipped her laptop bag and pulled out her laptop before powering it on. "Mr Rehan, it seemed that before I was assigned this case, half my work was already done. Mr Mikael?" She looked at Farhaan for confirmation, who nodded. "Mr Mikael had already tracked down the origin of the first email, which was a rival hotel. Naturally, it lead to suspicions that it was a business rival who is behind this. I don't know if this was a really well played move by the culprit, or just a huge coincidence. But, anyway, the person left a clue behind. When registering his email address, he provided his phone number for verification or whatever."

"His?" I looked at Farhaan, before turning back to her.

"Yeah, and being a detective working with the police, I managed to find out who the number belongs to. It might not have been as simple, had the person not sent that photo to your family home, but the threat was taken a little more seriously by the police because of that."

"Otherwise, they might have put it down as a prank of some sort?" Farhaan guessed.

"Exactly." The detective nodded. "So, anyway, once we are done with this meeting here, I would need one of you to update Miss Hooriya with all the information. She has a right to know." She typed away on her laptop, before looking up at me. "Mr Rehan, does the name Julian Brent sound familiar to you?"

I frowned, as I thought about it. "No."

"He's a blogger. Around two hours ago, two police officers went to question him in this matter, and as per his statement, you rejected his novel or something." Detective Saliha explained.

"I don't really directly reject novels myself too often. My subordinates normally go through the manuscripts and forward me the promising ones. I hardly have to disapprove of any, since my team is quite good."

"He said that you rejected him on his face." 

"Wait." Farhaan scoffed. "So what if he did? That psycho will go around threatening his daughter?"

"You're getting me wrong, Mr Farhaan. I'm not justifying his action. I'm just trying to jog your memory." She turned her laptop around and showed me what seemed to be a blog. On the top corner was a photo of a man. "That's Julian Brent."

I leaned forward to have a look, and it clicked on me. "F**k." The word slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself. "Sorry." 

"You remember him?" Farhaan asked.

I nodded. "I do. He was giving the team quite a hard time when his manuscript was rejected by them, creating a scene at the office. So I went out to see what it was about, and my team informed me that his manuscript was full of Islamophobic, xenophobic writing and could not possibly be accepted. I was shown a few particular extracts and I immediately rejected his work, to his face."

"Well, it seemed like he brewed a lot of hatred inside him. He researched your family quite well, and he found that picture of your kids on a public social media page of a..." She looked at her screen. "Shayaan Saim." She sighed. "According to him, he meant it as nothing more than fearmongering. He didn't actually intend to harm her."

"Son of a..." I muttered under his breath. "Is he under police custody now?"

"Yeah, he is being charge under the Protection From Harassment Act 1997, because his emails and actions put Hooriya Rehan under the fear of violence or other serious harm being inflicted upon her. In particular, the email Ms Rehan received on her email address, and the photo sent to her parental home."

"This is unbelievable. If I get my hands on that son of a b..." I stopped myself, jaw clenching. My daughter, my Hoor had suffered because that b*****d couldn't handle the rejection of his disgusting and xenophobic work.

*

Haya

"Can you not get harmed until the wedding?" I slid my arm through my sister's as we paced around the back garden of her in-laws' house. As soon as I'd heard she was hear, I'd rushed over, even though everyone was telling me and my brothers to also be careful.

"And after your wedding? Would it be okay then?"

"Not my wedding, silly. I meant the wedding of your great-grandchild?" I giggled.

She laughed. "I'll try, but I make no promises." 

We walked in silence for a while.

"You should see Ro. He's ready to kill." I broke the silence.

"I can imagine." She smiled. Then she sobered up. "God, I wish Mama wasn't the one to have seen the photo. Anyone else but her should have seen it first." 

"Yeah, she blacked out. It was too much for her."

"I feel her fear now." She placed a hand over her stomach. "I've not been worried about myself, Haya. I've been worried about my baby." Tears welled in her eyes. 

I wrapped my arms around her. "May Allah protect you, your husband, your baby, your future babies, your future generations and our whole family an extended family. Ameen."

"Ameen. I still wonder who would have issues against me though? I don't recall annoying anyone to the level of them wanting to scare the life out of me..."

"Don't worry. The police will track the person down."

"I really hope so."

*

Anabia

I had woken from a terrible dream in which I had seen the horrifying demise of my eldest daughter. I had woken up trembling and in tears.

But when Rehan returned home and told me everything regarding the culprit, I forgot my fears and comforted him.

"It's my fault, Anya. Our daughter was been threatened because of me."

I ran my hand up and down his back. "Absolutely not, Rehan. This is solely because of that man. This isn't your fault. You rejected his unacceptable writing." 

He took my hand in his and squeezed it lightly. "I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to any of them."

I leaned my head against his upper arm, my eyes welling up. "May Allah protect our children. Ameen."

"Ameen." 

No matter how many differences between us, we are united in this, and we will always remain united in this. Nothing mattered more to us than our kids.

*

Farhaan

I looked at Hoor. "He's in police custody now."

"Oh, thank Allah!" Mama placed a hand over her chest. "What is wrong with people these days?" 

"They can't take no for an answer." Aizah shook her head. 

"Detective Saliha said that hopefully everything should be okay now, but we should still be careful in the next few days or so." I said. "In case he's bailed or something."

Faizan sat up straighter. "Detective Who?"

I looked up at my brother and that's when I realised why that name was so familiar. "Detective Saliha Sameer."

"Miss Sameer?" His eyes widened in awe. He shook his head. "No, it can't be. It's too much of a coincidence."

"Miss Sameer from Islamabad?" Aizah gasped.

"Who?" Mama looked curious.

"Your potential choti bahu." My twin sister grinned widely.

*

So, the drama with Hoor's threat is solved...hopefully.

And, using that excuse, Saliha is back in their lives! 

Will Faizan and Saliha have a future?

Can Haya expect a drama-free, stress-free wedding, or is that too much of a wishful thinking?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!