Salaam lovely readers,

I apologise for the irregular updates, but there is too much going on and I need time to sort myself.

Hmmmm.

Dedicated to Dashingdaisy deepthijoy

I thank my genuine readers who never cease to send me love.

Loads of love <3

There was profound silence in the house as Izaan made his way towards his bedroom, but a shadow across the floor threw him off guard and he managed not to shout his lungs out.

He took a couple to deep breaths to calm himself as he took brisk steps towards the person, to his utter surprise, he saw their housekeeper Mrs Hanan in his office.

'What work did everyone have in his office?'

He cleared his throat loudly and Mrs Hanan turned around, revealing a broad smile.

'May I know the reason for your presence in my office.'

'Oh dear Izaan, I was just passing by and I found it open so I came here to close the door.'

His narrowed gaze scrutinized her features, trying to see her falter but when her smile remained intact, he relaxed, the stress was definitely taking a toll on him, he was suspecting the actions of everybody around him.

Izaan returned the smile as he turned around and walked pass thufail's study, towards his room, unaware of the fact that someone was lurking behind the closed doors.

He went straight towards his bedside table, poured himself a glass of water and stood by the window.

Apparently, he was clueless of what was going on in thufail's life. Izaan hadn't ever felt so frustrated in his entire life, he did not know where else to search for and most importantly what to search for.

A click of the door, caught his attention and he came out of his reverie, to face his pale looking mother. The next thing he knew was that he was hugging her, she soothingly caressed his shoulders, 'Where had you been?'

Izaan straightened himself, a veil of braveness masking his raw emotions, 'I had just gone out for a walk.'

'Are you lying to your mother.'

He was taken aback by her claim and smiled gently, 'You know everything, don't you?'

Haala nodded, 'Why are you putting yourself through depression?'

'Mama, I'm not depressed.'

'Then I bet you'll soon turn out to be, stop living in the past. You need to move on in life.' She looked at him pointedly at the same time she sat down on the sofa, folding her hands in her lap and collecting her nerves as best as she could.

There was a haunted look on Izaan's features, as though he had awoken from a nightmare and attempted to laugh it off, only to find out that it was the harsh reality of his life. 'Mama,' He whispered, as he knelt down on the floor, grabbing her feeble hands in his strong ones, 'Thufail couldn't commit suicide and I won't rest in peace until the person who murdered him is proven guilty and rots behind the bars.'

Haala slowly rested her head in her hands, 'I have already lost one son, please have mercy on your mother. I do not have the ability to witness any more worse scenarios.'

Izaan kissed her head, 'I promise to be careful.'

She sat back and slumped against him, a painfully weariness laced her words, 'Please hire Zera. I love to have her around.'

He considered the request before running a hand across his forehead. 'If that's what you wish,' he shrugged his shoulders, 'I have no qualms.'

Haala's response was immediate. 'I just hope that things get solved quickly. I do not wish to see you in distress.'

Izaan attempted a fake smile, 'Let's hope for a happy ending.'

~*~*~*~*~*

Dilshad looked at his reflection in the mirror, his appearance had changed drastically over the year.

His long hair and beard gave him an intimidating look, rather than the handsome appearance he previously possessed. But he liked his present self, it made people weary of approaching him, and that is the way he liked it.

He loved being a loner. He couldn't hurt anyone and nor could anyone hurt him back. Life was more peaceful this way.

For a moment his mind wandered back to the beautiful woman who once seemed to have possessed his every single thought, no doubt the feeling had been bliss, but the pain that he had caused her was unforgivable and he had promised himself never to cross her path ever again.

What Dilshad did not know was one should never say never.

Today his interview was with a journalist who worked with thufail. He groaned out load as he was wasting his precious time dwelling on the past.

He changed to a decent pair of trousers and shirt, as for all his field work, he had been granted an identification card of a English professor, which allowed him to carry out his task with ease.

He would act like they were doing a new article on recent suicides, to help students understand the worth of life and try to gain as much information as he possibly could.

Within seconds he was out of his apartment and reached his destination in a flash.

He took his seat opposite the old woman who remained perched on her desk, eyeing different paper cutouts which lay across her desk in an rather disciplined fashion.

'How may I help you, Professor forouqui?'

'I wanted to ask you about Thufail Ahmed?'

'Yes, Sir. What do you want to know?'

'How long did he work here?'

'Probably for six years and two months.'

Dilshad nodded his head as he jotted down the information, 'How was he to work with?'

She smiled reminiscently, 'He was extremely pleasant, a very hardworking man. I couldn't believe when I heard the news about his suicide.'

'Did he have any enemies.'

She frowned, 'I beg your pardon?'

Dilshad smiled faintly, 'In your profession it isn't fairly natural to have them, isn't it?'

Sylvia shook her head slowly, 'None that I know about.'

Dilshad studied her for a moment, she meant it. All the people whom he had interviewed had meant it.

It is a broken record, Dilshad decided.

On the way back to his house, Dilshad thought, I guess I was wrong, In spite of all the odds, it looks like he committed suicide after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Zera began the ritualistic pacing around the room, halting every ten seconds to glance wearily at the green bag that stood proudly at the centre of her bed.

She swallowed hard, 'What if it contained drugs? If the police arrests her then what explanation was she supposed to give?'

Zera decided to bury the bag in the backyard, because if her mom would ever see it then she would be bombarded with a series of unanswerable questions and unfortunately zera was never successful in lying.

But what if it contained the secrets to thufail's murder?

Why did she care?

She already had her bucket of never-ending list of sorrows, why in the world would she borrow someone else's problems for free.

If his brother hadn't been so damn arrogant then she would have handed over the journal and bag into his hands, but what would be the gain? He would find new ways of suspecting her?

Zera pulled her hair in helplessness.

She closed the steps between herself and the journal that lay on the table. With an huff of annoyance she threw the book open and began reading the second page.

I knew that humanity never dies. The world still has few good people.

Zera rolled her eyes. This guy was definitely good with words, but no one could ever manipulate her. She would just read the entire thing, burn it, forget about it.

Yes! That was exactly what she would do.

The bag contains confidential information, it cannot be just passed to someone without knowing their actual intentions.

Our main purpose now is to find the man with green eyes.

What?

Was thufail out of his mind?

In a country that had billions of population, she was supposed to go around checking people's eye colour?

In spite of herself, she laughed out aloud.

On the contrary, it would make a wonderful pastime.

~*~*~*~*~

Detective Hamilton, in charge of Thufail's murder, looked like he had stepped out of Hollywood, but a few scars to show how he had gotten his way in this field. He looked up as an journalist walked up to him.

'No interviews,' he growled. 'When there is any new information on the thufail ahmed case, you'll hear it at the press conference with everybody else.'

'I didn't come here to ask about that,' Shimaq replied skeptically.

Hamilton glared at the man sitting opposite to him, 'Oh, really?'

'I'm only interested in the evidence you found on the crime scene.'

'Why?'

'Our news channel wants to cover the story on him, we could pay you handsomely.'

Detective Hamilton studied the man for a moment, 'That's not a bad idea. However, we don't need any money as we haven't found a lot of evidence. Just a man is visible in the security tapes.'

Shimaq leant slightly closer and whispered, 'Have you been successful in finding that man?'

Hamilton shook his head, 'As a matter of fact, we found no man who resembles him in our data base and unfortunately there weren't any fingerprints. Which clearly implies that either this was suicide or the murderer is super intelligent.'

Hamilton rose from his seat and returned holding the copy of the recording, which he inserted into the system that lay on his desk. A man appeared on the screen, who wore a hooded jacket, 'This is the man who entered thufail's room at the later part of the night but unfortunately the camera wasn't successful in clearly capturing his face.'

Shimaq smiled internally as he looked at himself in the recording, but his face remained straight, 'It is a shame if this was a crime. Thufail was a wonderful journalist and would have been an huge asset to the country.'

Hamilton shook his head, 'You can keep the tape as it does not contain anything worthwhile.'

Shimaq watched intently as he saw the brown boots in the screen and then glanced downwards at his foot, he couldn't believe that the entire police force and the detectives were complete fools. He nodded his head as he slipped the tape into his bag, 'I'll keep this, maybe if we do a segment on air someone will recognize him.'

Shimaq walked out into the frigid air and headed for his next secret mission.

He was going to destroy the Ahmed family. They deserved no mercy from him, whatsoever, and he would take immense pleasure in crumbling down their world into bits.