Dedicated to bushrafaris AsinatNoorein aaranas

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Loads of love <3

Fee amanillah

Zera showered, toweled off, and went to her bedroom.

Among the few of the costly furnishings of her bedroom was a very familiar object. The clock gifted by her father, she hastily glanced at the time and sighed.

Today was the second round of her interview and she was going to be late. She groaned out load as being punctual would have made a good impression. Due to Izaan's arrogance she had already lost one of her job and she couldn't afford to loose the other. Her mom's treatment cost a fortune and she was solely responsible to take care of it.

She rummaged through her cupboard to find a decent pair of clothes and sighed when she found none.

If fate would allot her this job then she wouldn't have to ever worry about expenses. She hurriedly pulled on some clothes and slipped an abaya over it.

Her favorite handbag caught her attention and she withdrew it from the compartment, but it felt too heavy for her liking, therefore, she emptied its contents on her bed. Making a mental note to clean the mess later.

All the contents came toppling one above the other, but when a huge leather journal fell out, she gasped in horror.

It did not belong to her.

The most terrifying part was that it had Thufail Ahmed engraved on it in bold letters.

Zera ran into the bathroom, locking the door after her. She gripped the cold marble of the vanity, every limb shaking uncontrollably, as though she had seen a ghost.

How could his journal have possibly gotten into her bag?

What was she supposed to do with it? Read it? Pass it on to someone?

But, then, what explanation would she give for possessing it?

Her natural panic was tempted with a strong dose of common sense and she understood quite clearly the serious personal jeopardy she was in. But that was far from her greatest fear. The fact that her involvement in this matter would put her mothers life at risk had her blood turn cold.

~*~*~*~*

Izaan went up to the entrance of the building and wondered for the hundredth time if he should just leave the business in the hands of the police.

He had worn his night pants, and the collar of his button-down shirt peeked out from under his patterned sweater. He ran a hand through his hair, all this was proving way more difficult than he had imagined.

The darkness of the night provided a successful camouflage and he gazed intently at his surroundings, to make sure that he wasn't caught sneeking into one of the reputed news organization. He had picked the keys from his brothers room last night when he had envisioned a detailed plan of searching the particular place.

This was where thufail had worked and Izaan was sure that it hid answers to his brothers death.

He weaved his way through the building with terrifyingly slow pace, when his eyes could no longer adjust to the darkness, he switched on the flashlight app from his cell phone.

His hands rounded around his trouser pocket and came in contact with the cool surface of the gun. He was reasonably certain, that the place was empty, but assumptions like that could earn you an unwanted trip to the morgue with a tag around your big toe.

Izaan possessed the licence to own a gun but he would have to remind himself that he couldn't use it. It was issued for his protection not to go about sneaking into someone's property.

He felt his sweat falling on his brow, his breaths coming in chunks which felt as painful as the permanent bruise of his heart.

All this felt terribly wrong, but now there was no going back. He had to unravel the mystery behind his brothers death or else it was going to haunt him for a lifetime.

He could see most of the first floor from where he was standing. He shone his flashlight around and made his towards Thufail's cabin, he found a light switch on the wall, but he wasn't sure whether he should use it.

He observed discerned dust patterns on the floor that showed certain objects had been moved. He moved towards the desk and ran a hand through the objects present, hastily he scanned the files with the minimal amount light, but to his utter dismay found nothing suspicious.

He pressed the answering machine on the phone, but either it had no voice messages or all of them were erased.

As Izaan's eyes swept the room, they passed right over the figure that was dressed all in black standing just inside the huge closet filled with volumes of tapes and recordings of various incidences.

Shimaq closed his eyes the second before the light moved across his face, so that his pupils would not reflect it.

When the arc of illumination had passed, Shimaq reopened his eyes and gripped the handle of knife tightly. He did not believe using guns and leaving behind evidence, and after all there was real pleasure only when he punished them manually for interfering in his plans.

When Izaan passed within a few feet of him, Shimaq contemplated killing him. It would take just a flick of razor sharp blade against his veins and there would remain only a corpse with no enthusiasm to unravel any clues whatsoever.

But as quickly as the homicidal impulse flared through his system, it passed. Killing Izaan would only increase the suspicions and lead to more investigations.

Shimaq's grip on the knife relaxed. There would always be a next time. He smiled to himself as he watched Izaan shake his head in absolute frustration and make his way outside the building.

Izaan headed towards his car, which he had parked several blocks below the road. He glanced back towards the building and shuddered involuntary, a sensation had just overcome him, as though he had survived a close call.

He shrugged it off and entered his car, as he began contemplating other ideas to reach the answers he needed.

Inside the building, shimaq observed everything very closely and a huge smile came over his features as he realized that there wasn't any clue that needed to be erased. How silly of him to waste his time. It wasn't a good thing to let panic get over him.

Shimaq loved dangers. For him, Izaan was starting to look like an interesting project, but he would have to wait.

He hummed to himself as he took a leisurous stroll towards the exit.

Zera watched with extreme horror, as she someone exit the building, but  caught only a glimpse of the man's face, and she could bet that it was Izaan.

She saw him taking brisk steps towards an unknown destination and when he disappeared from her line of vision, she let out a huge sigh of relief.

When another development of the leaves crunching beneath footsteps reached her ears, she crouched down behind the ancient tree again and returned to her role of an observer.

A person emerged from outside the tree line with graceful movements of a lethal animal. He was wearing black overalls and his face was completely covered by his hood.

Zera sat like a statue, unable to move a single muscle in her body, due to the extreme fear that coursed through her veins.

Shimaq surveyed his surroundings with quick, darting movements of his head, and then took a side trail towards his car.

She could never be sure if there were any more shadows lurking in the dark or not, therefore, she decided to stay in that position for a while longer, hugging the green bag close to her chest.

As two men sped by, leaving behind the howling wind to keep her company, she let out the breath that hadn't realized she was holding.

She couldn't decipher the reason for Izaan to have come here sneaking and who was the other man.

Zera looked up at the sky and wondered why had thufail chosen to leave his journal in her handbag. She hadn't ever considered herself to be brave nor did she want all the unnecessary risk in her life.

She had missed her interview just because of the stupid book. She had followed the instructions and landed here, fortunately, she had heard footsteps and vacated the place before they would hand her over to the police.

Why was she following the instructions?

She decided to just abandon the book somewhere and forget about it.

As the more she would read, the more insane it would turn her. That morning after contemplating for long hours, she had finally decided to open the book and the first page had her head spinning.

If you are reading this then it is possible that I have died.

Zera had closed the book, shivering uncontrollably.

But as curiosity had got better of her, she had opened it once again to be greeted with waves of fierce shudders running down her spine.

I apologise for involving you in this, but someone needs to set it right after my death.

Zera had glanced one last time at her bedside clock, before deciding that she would just have to let go of the interview, as she couldn't bring herself to leave the house at this moment. Swallowing hard, her eyes had scanned the remaining words written on the page. The handwriting was so jumbled up, it had taken her almost half a day to understand it.

There is a key attached.

Go to 'Quick news', erase voice messages, fetch the green bag.