After the truth

~9~

Zayn walked into the house leaving his luggage to be handled by his brother. There was nothing different about it except that it was large with enough space to fit in extra rooms and the absence of that warm feeling. He tucked his hands into his pocket and let out a sigh. His father was busy with his golf buddies, not in the slightest mood to welcome him home after requesting his presence.

"Zayn Abdullah Hussain!" His mother called out, fuming.

He could not muster a smile. How could he? He let out his hand for a shake when she stopped in front of him, arms out to hug him. She looked into his eyes, sadness in hers as she took his hands.

"I need to pray and change out of this." He smiled slightly.

"Okay." She nodded, "when you're done, I made biryani." She smiled shakily.

"I need Marwa's house address. I'll eat with her if I can." He replied, waiting for her to speak. After a prolonged silence, he shook his head in understanding and turned to leave as the door opened.

Zayn turned back to his mum, a disappointed look on his face as his eyes moved from Zayad back to her.
"I never liked you." He said quietly. "It's hard to call you a mother." He nodded and sauntered off to his room.

His legs halted at the white door to his bedroom. He turned to stare at the door that stood in front of his room. He walked towards the only purple door in the house and a sad smile graced his face.

"Princess Mai's room. Come in without knocking, and off with your head!" He whispered under his breath. Zayn traced the messy writing.

He pushed open the door and heard it creak as it moved, slowly revealing the room. Zayn walked into his sister's room, his eyes taking in the whole place. It wasn't dusty and it looked like it was being cleaned up everyday, although the bed remained the same.

"Everyone misses her." Zayad's voice interrupted his thinking.

Zayn watched the tiny specks moving in the light from the window whose curtains were moved aside. He remained quiet, processing the words his brother had said. It wasn't worth a reply so he left him there and moved into his own room.

The small race car bed that was in the middle of the room had been replaced with a king sized bed. Zayn walked towards the window and from there he could see the garden. He frowned at the memories that came with it.

His collection of tiny race cars still stood on his bookshelf that held many crime novels from his teenage years. The army figurines he had, took up the large shelf beside his shoe rack. The wack arrangement brought back nostalgia. He opened the glass door to grab the painting he had made of Marwa and Zulfa when they were ten.

Marwa was a nerd and Zulfa was tomboyish. He laughed at the memory behind the painting, shaking his head at an angry Zulfa and confused Marwa, in the painting. Checking the time, he kept the painting on his bed and unloaded his luggage, arranging his things in the empty wardrobe.

He liked to do things neat and proper. Once he was done arranging his things, he took a long, hot shower, dressed in casual clothes and prayed dhur and asr. He grabbed his phone to call his PA in Dubai, he needed to see his baby sister.

************
Ring. Ring. Ring

Marwa swatted Mukhlisa's fingers away from the pie. Both of them were celebrating the happy fact that Lisa was starting school soon. She made apple pie, biryani and Tika kebab. She was putting the final toppings to her ice cream when the door bell went off like crazy.

"You look tired mummy. I'll get the door." Lisa leaned over the counter to hold Marwa's face in her small hands.

"Alright. But make sure to check who it is." She sighed, giving her a reply.

Mukhlisa hopped off the stool and bolted out of the kitchen towards the front door. She grabbed the shoe boxes that lined the small closet holding her mum's jilbab and their coats. After a minute of piling them atop each other, she gently climbed on her small ladder and stretched to look through the peephole.

Her nose scrunched in confusion at the tall man standing at the door. She hopped off the shoe boxes and returned them to the closet.
"Lisa, who's at the door?"
Mukhlisa grabbed the broom behind the closet and turned the key.

Aunty zulfa never forgot to teach her how cruel the world could be. Her aunty taught her self defense and little things she could do to buy time to run. Now Lisa felt like a superhero. She could finally help her mummy and keep her safe like she does to her.

Mukhlisa shut her eyes tight quietly reciting ayah kursiyu. Slowly, she turned the key, once. Twice. As soon as the door opened up, Lisa let out a loud scream and with all the strength her tiny body could muster, she let the broom stick fall on the really tall man.

Marwa who was in the kitchen bolted out of it to see what was happening. At first she was shocked to see her daughter hit a stranger, then she began laughing at how cute and harmless it looked. She grabbed the broom stick from her hands and carried her on her hips.

"I'm so sorry sir. Lisa could be charming when she wants to." Marwa snickered, trying so hard to contain the bubbly laughter hiding at the pit of her stomach. The bent over stranger groaned and muttered a 'she's so strong despite her frame.'

"Can I help you?" Marwa asked, but her attention was on Mukhlisa's palms which was red. She kissed her small palm and whispered a thank you in her baby girl's ears which earned her a shy grin and Lisa hiding her face in her mother's neck.

"I'm here to have dinner." The stranger finally stood straight and he could swear the wind got knocked out of Marwa.