Chapter 36 is up on stck

•••

The past few days had passed in a strange haze for Layla. The house had always been quiet, but now it felt utterly silent as if even her own voice had disappeared. She barely spoke a word. Her father didn't either. There was a heaviness in the air, a tension that neither of them acknowledged out loud.

Warda had come by yesterday. As expected, she had scolded her first, asking why Layla hadn't refused the proposal from Zeeshan in the first place. But the moment she saw tears brimming in Layla's brown eyes, her tone softened. She pulled her into a tight embrace, offering comfort and strength Layla had never possessed.

But courage was something Layla Fareed never truly had.

When her father returned home today, he looked more exhausted than usual. Layla went to the living room with a glass of water, and as she handed it to him, he held her hand for a moment and gently pulled her down to sit beside him.

"Koi aya tha aaj?" He asked unexpectedly.

(Did someone came today?)

Layla blinked. No one ever came. Her father had no family left. He was an only child. Her mother's relatives had never cared to visit, and the only neighbor who came over was Warda.

She shook her head silently in response.

Fareed didn't say anything more and took a slow sip of water. Layla didn't feel right leaving just yet, so she remained seated beside him in the quiet.

"Layla," he broke the silence again, his voice quieter this time, "Tum itni khamosh kyu rehti ho? Maine jo faisla liya tumhere liye galat tha, tumne kuch bola kyu nahi. Main itne din se sukoon se so nahi pa raha, ki meri beti apne dil ki baat hi nahi keh pati mujhse."

(Why do you stay so quiet? If the decision I made for you was wrong, why didn't you say anything? I haven't been able to sleep peacefully in days, knowing that my daughter can't even speak her heart to me.)

"Abba, aisi koi baat nahi. Apke faisle se mujhe problem nahi." Layla said quickly, unable to bear seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

(Abba, it's nothing like that. I don't have any problem with your decision.)

Fareed shook his head slowly, clearly unconvinced.

"Maine Zeeshan ke abba ko mana kar diya hai. Kuch derr ke liye darr zaroor gaya tha, lekin iska yeh matlab nahi tumhari zindagi barbad kardu uss gunde se shadi karwa ke." He said.

(I've refused Zeeshan's father. I admit, I got scared for a while. But that doesn't mean I'll ruin your life by marrying you to a thug.)

Layla froze. For a moment, her heart stopped and then, like a heavy weight lifting off her chest, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief. He had refused the proposal. Her father had said no.

Before she could respond, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and then looked at her. "Jao, Layla," he said softly.

(Go, Layla.)

She nodded, picked up the empty tray, and walked away.

But just like always, the happiness didn't last long.

A new fear quickly settled into her heart.

What if Zeeshan didn't take no for an answer? What if he tried something?

Then she shook all the thoughts out of her mind. Swiftly, she gathered her things and went to make wudhu. For days now, depression had made her negligent in her prayers. But how could she forget that He is Ar-Rahman, the Most Merciful. He never abandons His servants. Trials were merely a test from Him.

Layla was in the middle of her prayer when loud voices erupted from outside. It was Zeeshan's mother. Her voice was so shrill that even Layla, absorbed in her prayer, could catch some of the words. Fareed had rejected the proposal by speaking to Zeeshan's father directly, and now, the woman had come to fight over it.

She barely managed to complete her prayer before heading toward the source of the noise. She paused at the threshold, because the main door was wide open, and neighbors were peeking in, eager to witness the drama.

"Mera Zeeshan yaha hai nahi, toh uske absence mein aap rishta kaise khatam kar sakte hain?" the woman shouted.

(Since Zeeshan isn't here, how can you end the proposal in his absence?)

"Bhabhi, bol toh aap aise rahi hain jaise apka beta dusre desh kamane gaya hai," Fareed replied, his tone composed but firm. "Aur maine bhai se mana kar diya hai. Meri beti hai, mujhe pura haq hai uska rishta chahe jaha rakhu, apka beta meri beti ke bilkul kabil nahi."

(Bhabhi, you're talking like your son's gone abroad to earn a living.)

(And I already told your husband no. Layla's my daughter, I have every right to decide whom she marries. And your son is not worthy of her.)

"Bol toh aap aise rahe hain jaise apki beti mein heere lage hain," she snapped. "Aur iss 2 kamre ke ghar mein ussey shadi karne koi shehzada ayega."

(You're speaking as if your daughter is made of diamonds.)

(And as if a prince is going to come marry her in this two-room house.)

"Woh uska naseeb," Fareed said, voice unwavering. "Lekin uske naseeb ko main kisi gunde se nahi judne dunga. Aap jaye yaha se, ehtram kar raha hoon main apki, tamasha na karein mere ghar mein."

(That's her destiny.)

(But I will not let her fate be tied to a criminal. Please leave now, I'm being respectful. Don't create a scene in my house.)

His blunt, no-nonsense response made the woman boil over with rage.

"Theek hai," she hissed. "Zeeshan wapas aye aur kuch kiya toh humari galti nahi hogi, izzat se biyah dete beti ko lekin shayad apko ruswai chahiye." With that, she stormed off.

(Fine.)

(But if Zeeshan returns and something happens, it won't be our fault. You could've married her off respectfully, but looks like you're asking for disgrace.)

Her words revealed exactly why Zeeshan had turned out the way he did. Some parents wore their sons' recklessness as a badge of pride. It was beyond understanding.

Fareed shut the door and turned to his daughter, who stood frozen like stone.

"Layla."

"Abba, woh..." Layla's voice trembled.

(Abba, she...)

"Daro mat. Chalo, andar chalo,"

(Don't he afraid. Come inside,)

"Aunty keh rahi thi ki Zee... Zeeshan..." She struggled to speak.

(She was saying that Zee... Zeeshan...)

"Mat socho, woh darana hi chahti thi." Fareed gently reassured her. "Lekin tum kyu bhool rahi ho izzat aur ruswai Allah ke hath mein hai aur woh apne bando ka sath nahi chorhta."

(Don't think about it. She just wanted to scare us.)

(But why are you forgetting that honor and disgrace lie in Allah's hands, and He never abandons His people.)

He offered her comfort, though only he knew the storm quietly brewing in his own heart.

•••

Issam, still holding the other end of the dupatta, gently let it slide into her hands.

"Agar yeh sambhala nahi ja raha," he said, voice smooth, deep, and measured. "Toh rehne do, don't disrespect it."

(If you can't handle it properly,)

(Then leave it be, don't disrespect it.)

Momo didn't say a word, he was the only person in front of whom she always went completely silent.

Issam didn't say anything either. He turned and walked away.

Momo looped her dupatta back around her neck carelessly, her face marked by a quiet storm of irritation that said more than any words could. Her mood was thoroughly ruined.

"Where were you?" Aliyar asked as he noticed her rejoining the group.

"Inko kisne bulaya?" Sharfa snapped, throwing a sharp glare in Issam's direction, who was now standing a little away, engaged in casual conversation with Shahnan and the rest.

(Who invited him?)

"Watch your tone. He's my brother," Aliyar warned.

"Zyada bhai pe pyar araha hai?" Sharfa's voice now turned its sharp edge on Aliyar, and he straightened up, suddenly on guard.

(Feeling so much love for your brother?)

"Maine nahi bulaya, apne bhai se pucho tum." he clarified quickly.

(I didn't call him, ask your brother.)

At that, Sharfa's eyes flicked back to Shahnan and Issam. With a tight huff, she crossed her arms against her chest. Her classic signal that her mood had officially soured beyond repair.

But her moods, like Delhi's weather, are prone to change quickly.

By the time the group made their way to a cozy little café, laughter and food had softened the earlier tension. Sharfa was back to her usual self, poking at her plate with judgment.

"I don't like this," she muttered after taking a sip from her drink, wrinkling her nose and pushing the glass away.

"Try this," Arman offered immediately, handing over his own drink with a half-smile. "Jhoota nahi hai,"

(It's untouched,)

Sharfa accepted it without much thought, took a tentative sip, and then nodded in appreciation. "Okay... this is actually good," she admitted, looking at him with surprise.

She didn't even notice Arman casually picking up her rejected glass and drinking from it, without once hesitating that she had already sipped through the straw. But someone else noticed.

From the next table, Issam had been watching. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, his sharp green eyes narrowing as they flicked between Arman and Sharfa. She, as usual, remained blissfully unaware, laughing and reaching for more fries. Issam exhaled quietly, brushing off whatever that moment had stirred in him, and looked away.

"Momo, idhar aao," Shahnan called out, motioning her over.

(Momo, come here,)

She stood up, grabbed her drink, and made her way to his table without glancing back, leaving Arman behind with a faintly disappointed expression.

Eifa was sitting on Shahnan's right, and as soon as Sharfa came, Issam rose from his chair without a word, giving up his spot. Sharfa didn't spare him a glance, and sat down.

"Here, try this," Shahnan said, handing her a bite with his fork like he he always do. Momo took the bite, nodding in appreciation.

•••

Ehan knew very well that everyone would end up piling into his car again, so without wasting a moment, he quickly ushered in the first few who showed up-Huda, Arman, Nomi, and Meraz-and drove off before anyone could change the plan.

Meanwhile, Momo was making her own car-related decisions, loudly and unapologetically. "Hum Kian bhai ke sath nahi baithenge," she declared, her gaze fixed directly on Kian's face. "Inpe trust nahi hume, yeh ek din hume kehte yahi road pe chorhke chala jaunga." She said it while looking at Ishmal, as though filing an official complaint.

(I'm not going with Kian bhai.)

(I don't trust him. One day he told me he'll leave me stranded right on the road.)

Ishmal looked at Kian in disbelief, was he really this reckless with the younger ones?

"Tumne uss din jo kiya tha woh bhi batao," Kian grew defensive. After all, Sharfa had brushed the matter off, drawing a star in his hand. Why was she suddenly bringing it up now, after all this time?

(Tell them what you did that day.)

"Momo, come with me," Aliyar offered generously. Sharfa grabbed Eira's hand and began walking toward the car Aliyar had pointed out.

Ishmal considered riding with Eifa, but when she saw her slipping into the passenger seat of Shahnan's car, she took a step back. Third-wheeling between husband and wife? Not her thing.

She glanced toward Kian, who stood patiently beside his car, waiting. Letting out a long sigh, Ishmal walked over and slid into the passenger seat, pure indifference radiating off her. Kian, without a word, got in and started the engine.

Meanwhile, Sharfa comfortably opened the front passenger door and slid into her seat. Eira followed, slipping into the back. But when Aliyar joined her in the backseat too, both girls looked confused.

"Why are you..." Momo started, but her sentence broke off mid-air.

That faint scent of smoke, rich and slow-burning, reached her just as the driver's door opened. And in walked Issam Baig.

Sharfa's heart skipped. Maybe she shouldn't have been so vocal in refusing to sit in Kian's car. But now it was too late, both other cars had already left, and her only option was to stay put in this one. With him.

She briefly contemplated switching seats. But before the thought could become action, Issam had already buckled his seatbelt and started the car.

He kept his eyes on the road, hands firm on the steering, but occasionally his gaze would flick to the girl sitting beside him, her cheeks still flushed from anger and embarrassment, her jaw tight, lips set in a stubborn line.

It had been a year since he last saw her. Back then, her hair had reached her waist.

"Tumne apne baal kab katwaye?" He asked, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.

(When did you cut your hair?)

Sharfa didn't answer. She thought about saying something like "Humne apse kabhi pucha apne apna attitude kab badhaya." But kept quiet.

(Did I ever ask when you grew that attitude of yours?)

In the back seat, Aliyar was visibly struggling with the Delhi heat.

"Is it just me or is it really warm in here?" he said, tugging at the collar of his T-shirt. The AC wasn't on, Sharfa got motion sickness, so the windows were rolled down, letting in hot air mixed with dust and the distant sound of traffic.

Sweat clung lightly to Aliyar's brow, and he looked more than a little out of place, an American caught in India's summer chaos.

"Bohot zyada nazuk ho," Eira taunted, amused at his discomfort.

(You are so sensitive,)

"Yeah..." poor Aliyar hadn't even realized he was being mocked.

•••

The car was moving in silence, the mood tense yet calm, until Ishmal reached out and casually turned on the radio. A cheap, upbeat Bollywood song from recent times started blaring through the speakers.

Kian's expression twisted. Without a word, he reached over and switched it off.

Confused, Ishmal turned it back on again.

"Kya problem hai?" Kian snapped, flipping it off once more, his voice sharper now.

(What's your problem?)

"Apko kya problem hai? Mujhe gana sunna hai." she shot back.

(What's your problem? I want to listen some music.)

"Ghar aur gharwalo pe kabza karke sukoon nahi mila jo meri car pe bhi kabza karna hai." Kian said bitterly, his tone laced with annoyance.

(Was it not enough to take over my home and family that now you want to take over my car too.)

"Mujhe koi shauq nahi apki cheezon pe haq jatane ka." Ishmal fired back, refusing to stay quiet. "Waise bhi mere paas meri khudki car hai."

(I have no interest in claiming anything of yours.)

(I already have my own car.)

Kian scoffed. "I'm sure woh bhi tumhe mere gharwalo ne di hogi."

(I'm sure my family gave you that too.)

He couldn't stand how she acted proud of his family. He hated the way she said his father's name with such entitlement. Maybe because he was the youngest, the one used to calling everything "mine." My mummy. My sister. Maybe some part of him never grew out of that.

But this time, he'd crossed a line.

Ishmal's jaw dropped. She wasn't from some helpless background. Her father had left her with more than enough. She didn't need anyone's charity.

"Car rokiye," she said firmly, her voice cold.

(Stop the car.)

"Huh?"

"Car rokiye, abhi."

(Stop the car, right now.)

Still confused, Kian pulled over to the side of the road. The moment the wheels stopped turning, she unbuckled, opened the door, and stepped out.

"Apke ehsan ka shukriya." she said, voice sharp as a blade. "Lekin Ishmal Zarrar ko kisi ke ehsan ki zaroorat nahi."

(Thanks for your generosity.)

(But Ishmal Zarrar doesn't need anyone's charity.)

And with that, she slammed the door so hard it echoed. Kian flinched. He'd never seen this side of her before. Her usual snark, her little threats, he never took those seriously. But this was real.

"Ishmal!" he shouted, jumping out and following her. She was already walking away, the wind tossing her hair across her face as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting everything in a streetlight glow.

He grabbed her arm from behind to stop her. "Chup chap chalke car mein baitho," he said through gritted teeth.

(Get in the car.)

"Mera hath chorhein." she said, struggling to pull her arm free.

(Let go of my hand.)

"Mujhe gussa mat dilao warna..."

(Don't make me angry, or else...)

He never got to finish his threat.

"Oye, Romeo! Ladki ka hath chorh."

(Hey, Romeo! Let go of the girl's hand.)

Kian turned around to see a police jeep had pulled up. A stern-faced officer and a hawaldar were already approaching them.

"Sir, yeh humara matter hai," Kian said quickly, keeping his tone calm, but he still hadn't let go of her.

(Sir, this is our private matter.)

"Police ko bataoge matter? Hath chorho warna sara matter yahi nikal jayega. Humne khud suna tum ussey gadi mein baithne ke liye keh rahe the. Ab tumhare jaise log ki wajah se ladkiyan bahar bhi na nikle?" The officer snapped.

(You'll tell police private matter? Let go of her or we'll handle the matter. It's because of men like you that girls are scared to even go outside.)

"Yeh meri wife hai." Kian said tightly, struggling to maintain his composure.

(She's my wife.)

"Nahi," Ishmal cut in before he could say more. "Yeh mere husband nahi. Kabse mere piche parhe hain, main toh ghar ja rahi thi."

(No,)

(He's not my husband. He's been following, I was just trying to go home.)

Kian stared at her, stunned speechless.

His grip loosened in pure shock, and she slipped away from him like a gust of wind.

"Madam, aap idhar aiye," one of the officers said, guiding her away.

(Ma'am, please come here.)

The hawaldar turned back to Kian, his expression now full of suspicion and disgust. "Haan, hero, bohot shauq hai ladki cherhne ka?"

(So, hero, you enjoy harassing women?)

"Dekhiye, aap mujhe jante nahi hain. Yeh wakai mein meri wife hai." Kian growled, each word full of fury he was trying to suppress.

(Look, you don't know me. She really is my wife.)

But then Ishmal, sweet-faced and angelic, looked back at the police and shook her head with innocent denial.

And that was the moment Kian realized that this girl was not the same soft-spoken Ishmal Zarrar everyone thought they knew.

"Ishmal," Kian growled, glaring at her with a look that could slice through steel.

Before he could take another step forward, the hawaldar, already in an overly heroic mood, stepped between them, chest puffed and brows furrowed.

"Ankhein nichi kar," he barked, shoving Kian back with the tip of his baton.

(Lower your eyes.)

And that was it. Kian snapped.

His jaw clenched, knuckles tightened, and in one swift motion, he swung his fist straight into the hawaldar's face. The officer stumbled back with a shocked grunt, holding his cheek.

•••

"Yeh Kian bhai haina?" Eira asked, squinting out the window as their car passed a roadside scene.

(That's Kian bhai, right?)

They saw Kian and Ishmal being led to a police jeep.

"Koi problem hui hai shayad," Sharfa said, shifting forward in her seat. Kian's car was still parked off to the side, door slightly ajar.

(Looks like something's happened,)

Issam frowned at the sight, immediately sensing something wasn't right. He pulled out his phone and dialed Shahnan, while Sharfa called Ehan.

"Picha toh kare jeep ka," Aliyar said from the back, and Issam didn't need to be told twice. He restarted the car and began tailing it at a safe distance.

(Follow the jeep.)

"Ehan bhai ko kyu call ki, khamakha abhi baat badh jayegi." Issam asked, glancing at Sharfa.

(Why did you call Ehan bhai? Now things will get worse for no reason.)

"India hai, yaha Shahnan bhai se zyada Ehan bhai ko pata hoga kya karna hai. Lekin yeh log Kian bhai ko kyu le ja rahe?"

(This is India, you think Shahnan bhai knows more than Ehan bhai about what to do here. But why are they taking Kian bhai?)

"Maybe they're being taken in for overspeeding or some traffic rule," Aliyar suggested, trying to offer a rational theory.

"Hume lagta hai Kian bhai ne police ko maar diya." Sharfa said dramatically, eyes wide with excitement. She was clearly enjoying the chaos a little too much.

(I think Kian bhai beat up a cop.)

"Kian bhai? Seriously?" Eira scoffed. "Unme samajh nahi jo police ko marenge? Kuch bhi kehti ho,"

(You think he doesn't have sense that he'll hit police? You say anything.)

"Well, you never know." Sharfa said smugly, crossing her arms like she had just cracked the biggest mystery.

Issam sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Dua karo matter zyada serious na ho."

(Just pray it doesn't get worse.)

Because with this family anything was possible.

•••

Meanwhile, in a cramped two-room home miles away, Layla couldn't sleep, again. Fareed had told her not to worry, to stay calm, but how could she not be afraid, when fear had always been the most familiar part of her life?

Why was she like this? She didn't really know. Maybe it was the absence of a mother that had shaped her this way. Her mother had left when she was too little to understand what loss meant. She had no memory of grief, only a quiet emptiness she never had the words to explain. Her grandmother had wrapped her tightly in the folds of her dupatta, shielding her from the world's harshness. The whispers of pity and judgment never reached her, so she simply assumed that her mother had died.

That was the story she told herself, which is why she never asked questions, never spoke her mother's name.

But when she grew older, a quiet yearning bloomed in her chest. If she couldn't have a mother, could she at least see her face? She asked her grandmother for a picture. That was when the truth came out and it shattered her.

There were no pictures. Not even one. And worse her mother hadn't died, she had left them.

Layla learned that her mother had belonged to a wealthy family. She had defied them to marry Fareed, a man she claimed to love, choosing a modest life over riches. But within months, that love began to wane. The comforts she had left behind tugged at her heart. What she had once romanticized became unbearable.

She couldn't go back, her family had shut their doors on her. So she stayed. But not for long.

Eventually, she met someone else. Someone richer, more charming, someone who could give her the life she craved. And that was it. She walked away. No goodbyes, no regrets. Not even a glance at the daughter she left behind.

Since then, Layla had carried a strange, unshakable weight within her, an ever-growing sense of worthlessness.

From that moment, Layla begun to hate love, despise wealth, and resent men.

•••

The air in the small police station buzzed with tension. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh glow on the worn-out desks and files piled in corners. A hawaldar sat behind a desk, aggressively filling out a form.

"Likho," the inspector barked. "Public harassment of a girl, zabardasti car mein baitha raha tha aur on duty officer ko thappar mara."

(Write this down,)

(Public harassment of a girl, forcibly trying to make her sit in the car, and slapping an on-duty officer.)

Kian sat stiffly in the wooden chair, his hands clenched on his lap, jaw tight. His phone had already been confiscated and tossed into a drawer.

"Mujhe apne ghar call karni hai," He said, voice sharp.

(I need to call home.)

"Yaha koi film chal rahi hai? Chup chap baithe raho." The inspector snapped without looking up.

(You think this is a movie? Sit quietly.)

Kian let out a slow breath, then turned his head toward Ishmal.

She was calmly seated on a bench near the wall, legs crossed, adjusting the sleeves of her kurta like she was in a waiting room instead of the middle of chaos.

"Pani milega?" She asked one of the constables sweetly, ignoring Kian's stare entirely.

(Can I get some water?)

Kian narrowed his eyes at her. "Ishmal, batao inhe tum meri biwi ho, ya kam se kam ghar pe kisiko call kardo. Bas karo tamasha."

(Ishmal, tell them you're my wife, or at least call someone from home. Stop this drama.)

She didn't even look at him. The constable returned with a glass of water, which she took with a polite nod and a soft 'thank you.'

Silence stretched thin between them. Kian couldn't believe it, she was actually letting this happen.

He was about to stand when the door banged open.

First came Shahnan, storming inside with authority written all over his face. Right behind him, Ehan followed, cool and composed but with his eyes scanning the room like a hawk. Then came Meraz, Arman, Nomi, Eifa, Huda, Eira, and even Aliyar, half the Khan clan (including one Baig) practically flooded into the station.

Every head turned. Even the inspector stood up from his chair, blinking at the sheer number of people who had entered.

"Yeh... yeh kya ho raha hai? Kaha chale arahe ho?" The inspector asked.

(What... what's happening? Where are you coming in?)

Momo entered last, arms crossed, looking like she was ready to blow something up.

"Excuse me, officer," Ehan said, voice calm but cold. "Aap mujhe batayenge inn dono ko yaha laye hain?"

(Will you tell me why you brought these two here?)

"Kian bhai," Momo rushed to him, wide-eyed. "Aap theek hain? Apne slap mara ya overspeeding thi? Humari shart lagi hai Al se. Jaldi bataye."

(Are you okay? Did you slap someone or was it overspeeding? I had a bet going with Al. Tell me quickly.)

Kian gave her a flat look. "Slap mar... thappar mara tha,"

(It was the slap.)

"Ishmal, tum theek ho?" Eifa and Huda rushed over to where she sat calmly on the bench like she was waiting for a salon appointment and not involved in a legal complaint.

(Ishmal, are you okay?)

"Bheed kam karo, police station hai, tumhari phuppi ki shadi nahi ho rahi sab agaye." By now, the inspector had realized this entire crowd belonged to one family.

(Don't crowd here, this is a police station, not your aunt's wedding.)

"Excuse me, that was rude," Momo said, defensively. "Humari phuppi shadi kyu karengi? Unki shadi kabka ho gayi. Yeh dono unke kids hain." She pointed at Huda and Arman like a tour guide. "Ek aur hain. Sabse bade, Arsalan bhai. Unki shadi humari Azrin api se hui hai, lekin hum nahi aa sake unki shadi mein, hum bohot gusse hue the Arsalan bhai se lekin phir..."

(Why would our aunt get married? She already is. These two are her kids.)

(There's one more. The eldest, Arsalan bhai. He's married to our Azrin api, but we couldn't attend the wedding. We were very mad at Arsalan bhai because of that, but then...)

"Momo." Shahnan gently placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning in to whisper, "Yeh sab inke liye janna zaroori nahi hai."

(They don't need to know all that.)

The inspector, and everyone else present, silently agreed that he was absolutely right.

"Bheed mat lagao yaha." Inspector snapped, trying to regain control of the room. "Mela nahi laga hai."

(Don't crowd here.)

(It's not a fair.)

"Sahi toh keh rahe hain, kya tum log barat mein aye ho? Niklo bahar." At Ehan's order, the younger clan members, Eira, Nomi, Aliyar, Arman, Meraz, and Huda reluctantly shuffled out of the station, like kids sent out of class for talking too much. But Eifa stubbornly stayed beside Ishmal, while Shahnan remained behind Ehan, and Momo stood loyally beside Kian like a bodyguard with absolutely no fighting skills.

(He's right though, did you all come here like it's a wedding party? Get out.)

"Sorry, sir, yeh humare yaha buy one get everyone free wala system hai isliye," Ehan addressed the inspector politely, "Inhe ignore karein, mujhe bataye hua kya."

(Sorry sir, that's just how our family is. Buy one, get everyone free.)

(Ignore them, just tell me what happened.)

The inspector raised an eyebrow. "Tum wakeel ho?"

(Are you a lawyer?)

"Nahi," Ehan said coolly, pulling out a business card and sliding it across the desk. "Ehan Khan, aur yeh mera bhai Kian Khan hai."

(No,)

(I'm Ehan Khan, and he's my brother.)

"And I'm Sharfa Khan," Added Sharfa proudly, as if they were checking into a five-star hotel and not handling a case.

The inspector glanced at the card, then blinked and immediately straightened in his seat.

"Apke bhai sadak pe ladki cherh raha tha. Apni car mein baithne ke liye keh raha tha unhe." he explained, now cooperating.

(Your brother was harassing a girl on the street. He was asking her to get into his car.)

Hearing that, Ehan turned and whacked the back of Kian's head.

"Tumko sharam nahi ayi, biwi sath leke ghoom rahe ho, aur dusri ladki ko lift ke liye puch rahe ho."

(Shame on you. You have your wife with you and you're offering lifts to other girls?)

"That's really wrong." Sharfa added. "You should never let anyone into your car like that. Pata hai Eben ke sath kya hua tha? So he was going to his grandfather's place, unki step grandmother ki death ho gayi thi, not that he was close to her or anything, she was a step after all, but he really loved his grandfather so he went. Yeh sab baat hume Eben ne nahi batayi so I don't know yeh kitna accurate hai, hume Kate ne batayi thi, and she's famous for exaggerating. Ek din hume hi akey kehti ki Sharfa Khan ne exam mein cheating ki, ek... ek toh she couldn't say my name properly, humare sath aksar yeh problem hoti hai, humara naam koi theek se nahi keh pata, ek baar Al ne bataya... Al, jo abhi humare sath aya tha, jiski shakal hum mein se nahi milti, but uski shakal uske bhai se milti hai, woh bhi bahar hi, andar nahi aye kyuki..."

(You should never let anyone into your car like that. Do you know what happened with Eben? He was going to his grandfather's place because his step-grandmother had died. Not that he was close to her, she was a step after all but he really loved his grandfather. He didn't tell me this, I heard it from Kate, and she's known to exaggerate. She once came to me and said Sharfa Khan cheated in the exam. First of all, she couldn't even say my name properly. That's always been a problem for me. People can't pronounce my name. Once, Al told... Al, the one who just came with us, the one who doesn't look like us but looks like his brother, he didn't come inside because...)

"Kya mazak ho raha? L M N O P kya chal raha?" The inspector suddenly shouted.

(What the hell is going on? L M N O P?)

Everyone turned to face him, Sharfa finally quieted down.

"Sorry, iska ilaj chal raha hai," Ehan offered with a patient sigh.

(Sorry, she's under treatment.)

"Kaha?" Sharfa asked, genuinely concerned.

(Where?)

"Momo," Shahnan glared at her to shut up.

Ehan turned back to Kian with folded arms. "Kian, tumne yeh gair ikhlaqi harkat kyu ki?"

(Kian, why did you do this unethical behavior?)

"That's such a strong word," Sharfa whispered, clearly hearing it for the first time and mentally bookmarking it.

"Puch toh lo ladki kon thi." Kian grumbled.

(At least ask who the girl was.)

"Yeh, madam," The inspector pointed at Ishmal, who was still sipping water like she was watching a drama unfold on TV.

(Her, madam,)

"Ishmal?" Ehan frowned. "Nahi, sir, apko koi galat fehmi hui hogi. Yeh dono toh husband wife hain."

(No sir, there must be some misunderstanding. These two are actually husband and wife.)

Ishmal suddenly looked very interested in the cracks on the floor tiles. She carefully avoided Eifa's laser-like stare, which was clearly demanding a full explanation right here, right now.

"Madam, apne toh kaha tha yeh apke husband nahi?" The inspector turned to her, confused.

(Madam, you said he wasn't your husband?)

"Actually," Ishmal finally spoke, straightening her posture. "Meri inse shadi hui toh hai, lekin bohot pehle. Ab yeh bahar rehte hain, isliye mujhe yaad nahi raha..."

(I am married to him, but it was a long time ago. He lives abroad now, so I kind of forgot...)

Kian blinked, this was not the delicate, introverted Ishmal he knew.

"Aap... bhool gayi apki shadi hui hai?" The inspector asked, double-checking that his brain wasn't malfunctioning.

(You... forgot you're married?)

"Yeh aise hi bhool jati hain." Kian muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.

(She tends to forget things like that.)

"Ab clear ho gaya hai toh umeed hai koi case banta nahi hai." Ehan said diplomatically.

(Now that everything's clear, I hope no case will be filed.)

The inspector was visibly struggling. He had started the day yelling at constables for not polishing their shoes and somehow ended up interrogating one of the richest families in town about a marriage dispute that may or may not involve memory loss.

"Inhone hawaldar pe hath uthaya tha." He tried one last time.

(But he did raised his hand on a constable.)

Sharfa, completely missing the context, raised her hand innocently in the air. "Toh ap bhi hath utha lijiye. That way, it's fair and square," she said, offering the solution.

(You raised your hands too.)

The entire room paused.

The inspector turned slowly to Ehan, eyes squinting like he was examining a science experiment gone wrong.

"Inka wakai ilaj karwao," he muttered confidentially, leaning in as if sharing state secrets.

(Get her real treatment.)

Ehan nodded solemnly. "Ji ji, yaha se hum log direct Agra jayenge."

(Yes yes, we'll go straight to Agra from here.)

"Pagal khane?"

(Mental hospital?)

"Nahi, Taj Mahal," Ehan said casually.

(No, the Taj Mahal.)

"Khair," Ehan turned to Kian. "Kian, sorry bolo."

(Anyways,)

(Kian, say sorry.)

"Main nahi keh raha sorry. Mujhpe meri hi biwi cherhne ka ilzam lagaya tha." Kian snapped.

(I'm not saying sorry. I've been accused of harassing my own wife.)

"Lekin tumne marke sahi nahi kiya." Ehan reminded him.

(Still, hitting someone wasn't right.)

"Ussey mere samne nahi ana chahiye tha."

(He shouldn't have come in front of me.)

"Maine kaha na sorry bolo,"

(I said, say sorry.)

Kian groaned, turned to the hawaldar, and muttered with the sincerity of a wet sponge, "Sorry."

"Tameez se." Ehan said.

(Respectfully.)

"I said I'm sorry," Kian barked louder, startling even the inspector.

"Theek hai," the inspector sighed, waving the papers off his desk. "Main case drop kar raha hoon abhi ke liye,"

(Fine,)

(I'm dropping the case for now.)

"Thank you," Ehan smiled politely.

"But agey se aisa kuch nahi hona chahiye. Husband wife ka jhagra hai toh ghar pe karo, road pe nahi." the inspector warned, pointing a stern finger at Kian.

(But next time, handle your husband-wife fights at home, not on the street.)

"Agey se main inki car mein baithungi hi nahi." Ishmal declared, getting up.

(Next time, I won't even get into his car.)

"Main tumhe baithaunga bhi nahi." Kian retorted.

(And I won't let you sit in my car either.)

"Fine."

"Fine."

They both turned in opposite directions and almost bumped into each other again near the door.

"Inn dono ka kuch karna parhega," Eifa whispered.

(We'll have to do something about these two.)

As the Khan clan began filing out, one of the constables sighed in relief.

•••

"Kya hua? Sab theek tha na?" Issam was the first to ask as the group stepped out of the police station.

(What happened? Everything okay?)

Ehan didn't respond right away. He stopped, looked at Kian and Ishmal, and pointed an accusing finger.

"Tum dono ab mujhe sath mein dikhna nahi," he declared. "Maine soch dono ko ek sath bhejte hain thora apni misunderstanding clear karein lekin tum dono toh pure khandan ko police station le aye."

(I don't want to see you two together again.)

(I thought sending you both together would help sort the misunderstanding, but you brought the entire family to the police station.)

Kian rolled his eyes. "Toh kisne kaha tha khandan ko leke aao? sirf tum atey na."

(Who told you to bring the whole family? You should've come alone.)

"Wakai yeh kiska brilliant idea tha sab yaha aye? Picnic pe aye the hum?" Ehan now turned to face the rest of the group.

(Seriously, whose brilliant idea was it to show up like this? Were we on a picnic?)

"Ehan bhai, hume ghar chalke yeh baat karni chahiye, road pe nahi." Shahnan said. "Waise hi kafi late ho gaya."

(Ehan bhai, let's discuss this at home. Not on the road.)

(It's already quite late.)

Only then did Ehan realize the time. Everyone's phones had missed calls from home, but none of them had picked up because no one knew how to explain where they were or why.

"Sahi keh rahe ho." Ehan said with a deep sigh. "Lekin agey se main tum log ko kahi leke nahi jaunga."

(You're right.)

(But from now on, I'm not taking any of you anywhere.)

"Mera plan ruin karenge toh yahi hoga," Shahnan muttered under his breath.

(That's what happens when you ruin my plan.)

"Huda, Ishmal, Momo, Eira, Eifa, tum log meri car mein baitho." Ehan instructed, his tone now all-business. He wasn't taking any more chances with them.

(Huda, Ishmal, Momo, Eira, Eifa, you're all coming in my car.)

"Eifa kyu apke sath jayengi, woh toh mere sath hain." Shahnan shot back, instantly protective.

(Why should Eifa go with you, she's with me.)

"Ek toh tumhari aashiqui nahi khatam hoti." Ehan snapped. "Ek hain jinhe biwi se pata nahi kya allergy hain," he added, gesturing at Kian. "Aur ek hain jinhe jaise biwi ke begair saans nahi ati hogi."

(Your romance never ends.)

(One brother here seems allergic to his wife,)

(And the other acts like he can't even breathe without his.)

Shahnan opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, Eifa gently grabbed his arm. She didn't want him to say something reckless to Ehan.

Eifa hadn't even noticed what she did. But Shahnan did.

First, he looked down at her hand, her grip was firm, as if she didn't even realize it. Then he looked at her.
She was staring straight ahead, visibly tense, her brows slightly furrowed.

And that was enough for Shahnan to smile. Not wide or loud, just a small, secret curve of the lips.

"Ab bas ghar chalo," Eifa said softly.

(Let's just go home,)

"Chalo, aur haan, ghar pe iss baat ka koi zikar na karna." Ehan warned, giving them all a sharp look. "Khaskar tum, Momo, kisi ko iss barey mein mat batana, Al ko bhi nahi."

(Let's go, And don't mention this to anyone at home.)

(Especially you, Momo. Don't tell anyone. Not even Al.)

"I don't have to," Momo said brightly, pointing. "Al toh yahi hai,"

(Al is right here,)

Ehan turned to see Aliyar in the shadows.

Right. His maternal cousins were here too.

"Tum dono bhi ab humare sath chalo, bohot raat ho gayi, gaov ka safar nahi karna hai." Ehan added firmly.

(You two are coming with us too. It's too late to travel back to the village.)

"Hum chale jayenge, fikar na karein." Issam replied.

(We'll go. Don't worry.)

"Main puch nahi raha hoon," Ehan said flatly.

(I wasn't asking.)

He had fully activated big brother mode now. Kabir would've been proud.

•••

As the cars pulled into the Khan Haveli's gate, there was an eerie kind of confidence in the air.

"Okay, everyone, khamoshi se apne apne kamro mein jao," Ehan whispered, stepping out of the car like a soldier returning from war.

(Okay, everyone, quietly go to your rooms.)

"Exactly. Don't make noise, don't laugh, don't even breathe too loudly," Kian muttered behind him, motioning for Sharfa to not trip over her own dupatta.

They walked toward the house with the confidence of burglars sneaking into their own home, believing they'd successfully dodged the wrath of their elders.

And then they saw it.

The aangan light was on.

Four chairs stood in the middle of the aangan like a panel of judgment.

On them sat Rubab, Rukhsar, Shyra, and Ayla, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, expressions like they had just discovered everyone's report cards and no one had passed.

Dead. Silence.

The entire Khan Clan froze mid-step, like someone had hit the pause button.

"So, finally ghoomna phirna ho gaya, agayi yaad ghar ki?" Shyra's voice echoed like thunder, sweet yet deadly.

(So now you remember where home is?)

"Hum ghar bhool gaye the?" Momo whispered.

(Did we forget our home?)

"Momo," multiple people hissed in unison.

"Aap log ko ehsas hai humne kitne calls kiye?" Ayla stood up now, slowly, like a lioness about to lecture her cubs.

(Do you know how many times we called?)

"Yahi kuch 10 15?" Ehan started.

(Maybe ten, fifteen times?)

"Each," Ayla interrupted, glaring at Ehan.

"Mujhe toh 2 baar hi call ayi." Eifa said, but fell silent the moment she noticed Ayla looking at her.

(I only got two calls,)

"Aisa kya hua jo ek ne bhi call receive nahi kiya?" Ayla asked

(What happened that not one of you answered?)

"Batau mummy ko jo bhi hua tumhari wajah se hua?" Kian muttered to Ishmal.

(Should I tell mummy it was all because of you?)

"Hamesha dusro pe blame karne se pehle apna soch liya karein," she replied, defensively.

(Before blaming others, take a look at yourself too.)

"Jo bhi baat karni hai, idhar karo." Ayla interrupted them.

(Whatever you need to say, say it here.)

Everyone instantly straightened up. All guilty heads bowed.

Even Shahnan, who was rarely intimidated, was silent, he didn't like disappointment in Rubab's eyes. She resembles Ayat in this.

"Gair zimmedari ki bhi hadd hoti hai, yeh koi waqt hai ghar aney ka?" Shyra began, crossing her arms and glaring at Ehan. "Tumhare papa bohot gussa kar rahe the, Ehan. Kam se kam tumhe toh khayal rakhna chahiye tha."

(There's a limit to irresponsibility. Is this any time to come home?)

(Your papa was furious, Ehan. The least you could've have been careful.).

Meraz, Issam, and Aliyar, who had been lingering at the back trying to blend in with the shadows, exchanged helpless glances. They were guests, technically, shouldn't that give them some immunity? But judging by the expressions of the women in the aangan, it absolutely didn't.

"Kissey keh rahi ho?" Rukhsar turned sharply toward Shyra. "Jisko masti karne se fursat nahi milti. Ehan, tumse toh mujhe waise hi koi umeed nahi. Aur, Kian, tum, aaj kal pata nahi kin khayalo mein ho."

(Who are you talking to?)

(To the one who never stops goofing around. Ehan, I already had no hopes from you. And Kian, I don't know what's gotten into you these days.)

Kian opened his mouth to argue, but Rukhsar wasn't finished.

"Lekin, Shahnan," she said, voice softening ever so slightly, "Kam se kam tumhe ehsas karna chahiye tha. Tum toh itne careless nahi."

(But, Shahnan,)

(You of all people should've acted responsibly. You're not usually this careless.)

The tone wasn't lost on anyone. The sarcasm for Ehan and Kian was sharp as a blade, but for Shahnan, it came with a disappointed sigh.

"Sharm karo," Ehan muttered under his breath, elbowing Kian. "Tumhare muqable chote Shahnan pe trust hai dadi ko."

(Shame on you.)

(Dadi trusts little Shahnan more than you now.)

"Tumhara jija hai chota Shahnan." Kian pointed out, this made Ehan straightened up.

(Little Shahnan is your brother-in-law.)

"Badi dadi, I'm sorry," Shahnan stepped forward. "Yeh sab humne jaan ke nahi kiya. Halat hi aise ho gaye the."

(We didn't do this on purpose. The situation just got out of hand.)

"Aap log gaye kaha the?" Rubab asked. "Kyuki shareefo ke jane wali sari jagah kabka band ho gayi hogi."

(Where did you all go?)

(Because all the decent places must've closed by then.)

"Nani, darasal hua yeh..." Ehan started, full speed ahead.

(Nani, actually what happened was...)

"Tum toh khamosh rehna." Rukhsar interrupted him before he could even begin. She knew he is expert at storytelling.

(You stay quiet.)

She turned to her most trusted source.

"Momo, tum batao,"

(Momo, you tell us.)

"Hum?" Momo blinked like a deer caught in headlights. She had never felt the weight of responsibility so heavily before.

(Me?)

"Haan, tum. Shuru se batao kya hua."

(Yes, you. Tell us everything from the start.)

At that moment, all cousins shared a single horrifying thought:

"Mare gaye,"

(We're doomed,)

Because Momo didn't lie. In fact, she had the unique talent of sharing even the parts that shouldn't be shared.

Huda closed her eyes. Kian looked like he wanted to teleport. Ehan subtly started inching backwards. Eira silently prayed Eifa would faint so they could all get distracted.

Nomi had simply sat down on the ground, right there in the middle of the aangan. He was done. Exhausted. His soul had left his body somewhere between the police station and the family interrogation.

As for Ishmal? She had quietly slipped away and was now standing beside Ayla, blending in so seamlessly that it took Kian a full minute to even realize she was no longer next to him.

When he finally spotted her standing safely under Ayla's protective wing, he was stunned and mildly betrayed.

Why wasn't she getting scolded?

Kian glanced at his mother and grandmother, both of whom hadn't spared even a disapproving look in Ishmal's direction.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, glaring.

She didn't even meet his gaze. Just calmly stood there with Ayla, peacefully.

Momo looked around, her hands fidgeting nervously. "Shuru se toh yeh hua Kian bhai ne hume gappe nahi khane diye."

(It all started when Kian bhai didn't let me eat gappe.)

"Gappe?" Shyra looked genuinely confused.

"Gol gappe," Kian clarified. "Aur maine iss liye mana kiya tha kyuki Momo ko adat kaha hogi bahar ka khane ki."

(And I only said no because Momo isn't used to eating street food.)

"Arey, aise kaise adat nahi? Hum apne ghar pe hamesha evening mein dad ke sath jate hain bahar khane. Dad office se atey hain toh sabse pehle hume leke mom ko pick karne jate hain phir hum log waha se..." Momo said in offense.

(What do you mean? At home, I always go out with Dad for evening snacks. When he comes from the office, the first thing we do is pick up Mom from hospital and then we...)

"Momo," Rukhsar interrupted firmly, glancing at Sharfa. "Maine jo pucha mujhe woh batao."

(Just answer my question.)

"Oh, right," Sharfa slapped her forehead, and continued. "Toh Kian bhai ne jab hume gappe nahi khane diye toh humara dil upset hua, phir humne bhai se kaha ki at least ice cream dila dein, toh waha na humara favourite flavor available nahi tha, Al ke kehne pe humne mocha fudge try ki but woh hume achha nahi laga..."

(So when he didn't let me have gol gappe, I got upset. Then I asked for ice cream, but they didn't have my favorite flavor. Al suggested mocha fudge but I didn't like it...)

For the first time ever, the cousins were happy Sharfa was rambling because the more she spoke, the more she distracted the elders.

"Tum log ko aney mein deri kyu hui." Rukhsar finally cut in, trying hard to keep her anger in check.

(Why were you all late coming back?)

"Woh toh police station mein time lag gaya na..." Sharfa, now relaxed and in full storytelling mode, had completely forgotten the promise to keep everything quiet. The moment the word police station left her lips, a wave of gasps followed.

(Well, we were stuck at the police station because...)

"Kya?" Rukhsar's voice sharpened.

(What?)

The entire younger clan froze. Their brief moment of relief vanished. The guilt on their faces was now louder than anything Sharfa had just said.

They had celebrated too early. Clearly.

•••

How's the chapter? Do vote and comment before leaving 💕

-Ufaq

Dedicated to igniteintrigue