"Hey, Zaira. Isn't Rayyan so cute?" I flinched at Hafsa's words, instinctively looking up from my lap, expecting to find him there, but was met with disappointment. A sudden burning feeling scorched in the pits of my heart but I extinguished it with a scoff.

"You mean a jerk? Or maybe delinquent?" I suddenly began to push my swing with greater vigour. Hafsa, unlike me was a direct cousin of Harris bhai. Her father Zubair Uncle, was the middle of the 3 siblings. Even so, I didn't particularly enjoy her company. Neither did other cousins, because of her annoying habits. I wasn't fond of her because she lied just to get her way. This bothered me more about her than the clinginess part. Yet, I felt bad about pushing her away like everyone else.

Every year the Hamdani siblings got together in the Haveli to spend summer together. It was more of a way to discuss business development than anything else. So to say, there were only 2 of the siblings left. The youngest sibling, Rayyan's mother had died years ago. And even though no one said it outright, everyone knew the only reason Rayyan was adopted by Uncle Zia, was to get hold of Saeeda Auntie's shares, that were now under Rayyan's name.

As I grew older, I started to understand the evil workings of this family. It didn't make things better that Dad would pull us into this mess too—just to strengthen ties with the Hamdani's. We didn't have direct relations with them but Dad had been their business partner since Grandfather's time. So they somewhat knew each other while growing up. That was part of the reason why whenever we didn't have any commitments for our summer break, Dad brought us here. Even at the age of 12, I had an understanding of the politics that went on in these people's mind.

"Oh come on! Just look at that foreign beauty. His striking features! Those beautiful green eyes—" Hafsa continued animatedly. I shot her a sideway glance, suddenly feeling an immense hatred for her.

'Green with a tint of hazel—' I mentally corrected. His eyes were the kind of earthy green that revived the grass after a cruel, unforgiving winter. Interwoven with shades of evening sun around the pupil. His eyes held danger and beauty all at once. Like a wild fire, it was reckless, untamed, yet undeniably captivating.

"Okay! I have decided! I'll give him a gift! A cake—!" She suddenly jumped out of her swing. I turned away with a frown, feeling the muscles in my neck tightening.

'A gift huh? Whatever. They both are equally annoying. Birds of same feathers flock together.' The thought burned in my mind like the jealousy pumping through my veins. I watched her leave and once more began to work the chains of my swings.

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"Rayyan! I got you something—I made it myself for you—" I heard them but didn't look up from my book. I was sitting in my usual spot in the garden, going through my summer assignment when the noises piqued my attention.

'Do they really have to do this here?' I didn't know what was making me so irritated.

"Who are you again?" I noticed the annoyance in his voice which unintentionally made me look up. Instead of looking at Hafsa, who chuckled at what she believed to be his amazing sense of humor; his cold, unfeeling gaze was fixated on me. The unexpected eye contact made me blush and I looked away reflexively.

"Oh? Is that right? Well, let's see—oops! dropped it—" I didn't need to look up to see what had occurred. My eyes were already glued to the cake dumped on the ground.

I felt an unknown rage burning in me, as I turned a shaky glance to him. His mouth was turned up in a sinister grin as he looked down at a crying Hafsa with a cold blooded gaze.

"Now, please get lost—" He remarked carelessly with a roll of eyes and gave a final kick to the now empty tray on the ground before turning to leave. In that moment, I had no idea how and what made me get up.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!! You barbaric idiot! Do you not have the brains to use your mouth! How dare you treat food like this!" My screams made him stop in his tracks and he turned around slowly with hands stuffed in his jeans pocket. His eyes gleaming with amusement watching me stand there, glaring at him with hands clutched to my sides.

"Oh look! The moral police is here!" He scoffed, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"You best shut your mouth and apologise—" I gritted my teeth in rage, but he cut me off.

"Or what? You're gonna hit me?" He sneered but he had inched closer as if he wanted me to do exactly that.

"An illiterate idiot like you might only understand the language of blows. You're disgusting beyond help—!" I scowled in exasperation which made him crackle.

"What? Scared already? Since I am so disgusting and loathsome unlike your virtuous and upright self, why don't you stay the hell out of my way? Because a barbaric person like me wouldn't know any other form of communication—" His mouth was turned up in a mocking grin but his eyes burned with hatred as he turned and left.

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After that whenever I spotted him accidentally, he would turn away with a scowl. It only made me hate him more.

That day, I took my ipod to the lakeside because preparations for bbq party were going on in the garden. I thought if he were there, I would sneak away before he could see me, but it was wishful thinking on my part.

I stood there in shock as I watched him take in a long puff of that cigarette held between his fingers. His back was turned to me as he stood against the banyan tree. I hoped he hadn't noticed me. However before I could make an exit without getting spotted, he looked in my direction.

I felt my heart jump in my throat when his cold, unforgiving gaze bore into me. With a gulp, I averted my gaze and started walking towards the bench on shaky legs. Lifting my chin up in air, to show that he didn't scare me.

"What are you doing here—" I heard him say but didn't let him finish.

"Why? Your name is inscribed on this property?" I returned sarcastically but my confidence vanished in thin air, when I saw his eyes narrowing in a threatening glare. Slowly, he started to walk to where I was sitting.

"Shutup. Or I'll make it so this pretty mouth of yours never opens again." His voice was low as he towered over me. Not only was he older than me by 4 years but also more than a foot taller and I couldn't even back away, so sufficed to gulp. Giving me one last scornful glance, he turned away only to halt after a few steps.

"You tell about this to anyone—I'll show you hell—" He didn't even turn around, only threatened over his shoulder. Yet, I believed him, word for word.

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I was loitering in the garden, when Hafsa confessed to me something that would later give me the hell Rayyan promised. It wasn't because I feared him that I stopped Hafsa from telling about Rayyan's smoking habits to her mother. I am sure she must've caught him somewhere, like I did. It's his own fault. She wanted to get back at him for the cake incident.

He was horrible and a lunatic jerk. Yet, I knew if Harris and other guys, who smoked too, were caught doing the same thing it wouldn't become as much of a big deal as it were for Rayyan.

Was it because he was Yatim? No, I felt even more than that it was because his father was of different race. Whatever the cause, I decided to stop her. But it was to no avail.

Later that night, I witnessed the horror behind the locked room. The sounds of his screams were absorbed in the echo of Uncle Zia's belt slapping his flesh. I couldn't bear to hear his screams or control my sobs, so I ran away and hid in the garden.

For the next few days, while I anxiously waited for him to come out, I heard the most outrageous thing.

"N-o—No! I didn't tell about this to Uncle Zia!" I cried out, gaping horrified at Haniya. She said that everyone thought, it was me, who did this and even without needing to think further, I knew who did this—

"You—-" Hafsa whimpered with tears of anger burning in her eyes. I looked down at her sprawled figure on the floor with pure hatred. She pulled away her hand from the cheek that I had just slapped and lunged at me. It seemed so that Hafsa in her extreme shrewdness and cleverness thought it would be a smart idea to put the blame on me, as the one who caught him in the act and decided to put a stop to it. Only because, I was the one who knew what she was up to and she didn't want it to trace back to her.

In the end the fight broke up with both of us getting slapped by our respective mothers. I spent that night crying in my room. Not because I got hit—which was a first for me, but the realisation that he believed that I was the one who told on him, hurt more than the physical pain of being hit.

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It had been a week since that incident. Yet, I hadn't seen him, at all. I didn't dare go to his room but I waited for him at the banyan tree by the lakeside, in hopes he would show up. But everything changed that day.

I was sitting in my room, studying; when the door burst open and Dad came in screaming. Even without knowing what was going on, I had got up on the bed and started to back away.

"I will kill her—!" Dad bellowed and lunged at me, grabbing at my hair and pulling me down. I screamed through tears not realising what was happening. The only thing I could understand was Mom screaming at Dad to let me go. She kept begging him to forgive me, that I were a kid and didn't know any better. But Dad wasn't hearing any of it. I kept screaming and wailing as Dad started to drag me out of the room by my hair. I could only cry through the screams when he brought me out to where everyone was already gathered.

"Stop it Hameed!! What in the hell has gotten into you—-" It was Uncle Zia's voice. In response I heard Dad's voice crack with anger.

"I should've killed her when she was born—!! This—This—Look at her age and—" He wailed before sending another slap flying across my face.

"No matter what happened—How can you treat your own child—" Uncle Zia came to pull dad away and I hid my sobs in my hands.

"—-Hafsa saw her with Rayyan—at night—I can't even say it—I wish I were dead before I had to live to see this—" He dropped to the ground, hiding his face in his hands.

What?

Before I could think any further—Uncle Zia had started screaming for Rayyan to come out. I looked up, when he entered the room. His face was still blue and swollen but the look in his eyes was colder than ever. He spared me a dismissive glance, before turning to Uncle Zia.

"What's the truth? Huh?!" Uncle Zia was holding him by the front of his shirt but he only watched him blankly before ripping his hold off of him.

"Truth?" The corner of his swollen mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"It's true. Everything she said." His gaze wandered to Hafsa standing behind me, before it found me.

I didn't know what it meant to have a broken heart until that moment. Not only did I feel the pain of betrayal but also immense hatred that fuelled the anger within me and I got the strength to lunge at him.

But no matter what I did, I knew my life was changed. I lost everything I ever believed in, that day. And the rest of the days of my life, I spent with my head down cowering for a crime I didn't commit. But no one believed in my innocence. And after a while, I realised that I had stopped believing too.

Assalamualaikum everyone☺️Hope you enjoyed reading. This chapter was in reference to Act-7 , for anyone wondering.

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