Two Brothers, One Heart

Part 2: Chapter 62

It was midnight, and her stomach was grumbling hard. She had skipped dinner and said her prayers before heading to bed. While lying down, she kept herself occupied by scrolling through her phone, looking at Sabrina's pictures. Sabrina was a joy giver.

Her eyes were bulging, and she had a pounding migraine, reminding her of Zaynab and how to convince her. There was so much on her mind that her head felt like it was about to burst into pieces. To unwind the stress, she decided to go downstairs for a snack since she was feeling fatigued and frail.

Quietly making her way downstairs, she used her phone as a torchlight since it was very dark, and everyone else was asleep. She almost tripped over something, which turned out to be Yasin's stuffed animals that he had left on the floor. The eyes on the toys looked scary, causing her to give one of them a strong but weak kick to the other side.

As she swiftly turned off her torchlight, she realized the kitchen had a lit candle, filling the air with the aroma of butter and bread. "Thief!" She called out to herself, then cautiously made her way to the living room. At the center table, Khalid's hard briefcase lay, and she hesitantly picked it up, the only thing resembling a weapon nearby.

Using the briefcase felt wrong, but she knew it was a necessary evil. She chuckled at the contradiction in her thoughts. With delicate steps, she crept back to the kitchen, where she spotted the thief in a large hoodie and trousers, busy toasting a slice of bread.

In her mind, she thought, "Hungry thief," as she raised the briefcase intending to deliver a hard blow that would cause amnesia. However, as the thief turned around, it was too late to stop the swing, and she ended up hitting none other than Firdausi, who was also famished.

Collapsing against the counter, she felt a slight stinging sensation on her head, noticing a small bleed as she rose from the ground. Islam quickly helped her up, apologizing repeatedly, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, I thought it was..."

"A thief in the night," Firdausi remarked, using the hem of her sleeves to wipe the blood, while Islam hurried to fetch the Dettol antiseptic liquid. "I'm fine, not that serious. You can be ridiculous, though," she quipped.

"No, you're dressed like one," Islam retorted, guiding her to sit down, cleaning the wound, and applying a plaster. As she tended to the injury, Firdausi teasingly asked, "Are you done crying and mopping?"

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "I was just intimidated by how Tessie could turn her back on me," expressing her feelings.

Firdausi, serving her the toasted bread, advised, "Don't rely on people; they often don't meet your expectations and end up betraying you."

"That's why you don't have friends?" Islam joked, munching on the slightly burnt toast. "You left it in the toaster too long, but it's not bad."

"Yeah, I know I'm a bad chef," Firdausi smirked, and Islam chuckled.

Her mood shifted, and in between bites of the toast, she asked, "Do you think our mother could... have a disease like cancer, you know?"

"Maybe something's fishy. She stopped going to work, isn't as focused on her shape as before, and doesn't eat much," Firdausi observed, loading the dishes into the dishwasher.

"Technology is making the youths lazy. Why not wash the plate since it's just two? Why use the dishwasher?" Islam questioned, then pondered, "Do you think she has a brain tumor or just a migraine?"

"Where are you picking that up? Focus on the wedding; you're not doing anything. Mama is fine," Firdausi advised.

"I want to, but I'm unsure. Abba works a lot and has stopped fishing or grilling suyas for us in the backyard. I'm worried Yasin isn't getting proper parental care, that's why he's growing up so fast," Islam expressed her concerns.