Hidden bonds of love

11.

Mommy Beauty quickly instructed Mustabshira to bring some water. Mustabshira, who was confused, rushed to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water. Mommy Beauty took the bottle, opened it, and splashed the water onto Maryam's face who lay helplessly on the floor. Maryam didn't move or flinch; she appeared lifeless.

Mustabshira quickly dialed Ahmad's number. He answered and she explained the situation. He said he was on his way and promptly called his doctor friend to come over.

Mommy Beauty was perplexed and worried about Maryam, who lay on the floor like a motionless figure. Although her connection with Maryam wasn't strong, she still felt sympathy for her.

Ahmad was anxious, wondering what might have happened to Maryam. He reached the house, parked his car, and hurried inside. He found Maryam on the floor and knelt down next to Mommy Beauty. He studied Maryam's pale face and swollen eyes closely. It seemed severe; it was as if she were sleeping, yet her appearance was alarming.

He lifted Maryam and carried her to her room, gently laying her on the bed. His eyes reddened with anger, he left the room, and curiously inquired about the situation. Mommy Beauty explained, though she had no idea where Maryam had been before.

He glared at Mustabshira with intense anger, his eyes burning with fury. He refrained from speaking; Mustabshira understood the gravity of his gaze. Silence was her best course of action.

The doorbell rang, and Ahmad answered it. The doctor had arrived; he led the doctor to Maryam's room after greeting Mommy Beauty.

After an examination, the doctor administered an injection, stabilizing Maryam's condition. He exited the room, and the family gathered, eagerly awaiting his assessment.

"It seems your daughter has been suppressing a lot of pain. She internalizes her hurt instead of discussing it, which is detrimental," Dr. Najib explained.

"Is she alright now?" Mommy Beauty inquired.

"Unfortunately, she experienced a heart attack." The news shocked everyone. "You need to ensure she receives proper care. Encourage her not to bottle up her pain." Dr. Najid continued his discussion and prescribed medication, advising them to take Maryam to the hospital the next day.

No one had expected to hear this. Maryam didn't seem like someone who was harboring a lot of pain inside. Ahmad was seething with anger, wanting to lay blame on Mustabshira, one of the individuals who had spoken hurtful words to Maryam. However, he managed to keep his composure, focusing on his desire for Maryam to wake up so he could question her about what had occurred.

Nobody entered Maryam's room as the doctor advised them to let her rest. Mommy Beauty went to the kitchen to prepare something for Maryam.

Ahmad guided Mustabshira to her room closing the door behind them.

Mustabshira gazed at him, her eyes brimming with fear. His gaze was intense, reflecting pain across his face.

"Mustab, why did you come back home without her? Is that how much you despise your sister? What if something had happened to her? Just last week, she nearly faced assault from one of her mother's clients. Put yourself in her shoes; your actions have caused her pain," Ahmad said, his voice resonating with anguish while maintaining his calm demeanor.

"Ahmad, I assure you everything was fine between us. We even went to school together peacefully. I swear, Ahmad, I haven't done anything to her in the past days," Mustabshira earnestly voiced. He studied her eyes, finding sincerity in them. "Alright, I believe you," Ahmad conceded.

His phone rang, and he retrieved it to check the caller's identity. It was Mrs. Fatima, Maryam's mother. With a sigh, he answered, "Yes, Kitty, what do you want? I'm not in the mood to discuss your daughter." This was his immediate response.

"Has she reached home? She came to the company today," Mrs. Fatima's voice sounded faint on the other end.

"So, you're the reason she fainted. What did you do or say to her?" Ahmad questioned. Mrs. Fatima maintained her innocence, but Ahmad harbored doubts. He ended the call, avoiding further conversation, aware he might say hurtful words.

In her office, Mrs. Fatima remained in a state of distress. Since Maryam's departure, she had been unable to shake off the impact of Maryam's last words: "I believe you're not deserving of the title 'mother'," Those words relentlessly echoed in her mind. Amnat entered the office after knocking, seeking to check on Mrs. Fatima.

Among her employees, Mrs. Fatima held Amnat in high regard; they shared a close bond.

"Mrs. Fatima, are you okay? Do you need anything?" Amnat inquired. Mrs. Fatima rose from her chair, walked to the office window, and folded her arms, gazing at the sky. After a moment, she turned her attention to Amnat, who was arranging files on the table without answering Amnat question.

"Amnat, do you think I don't deserve to be a mother?" Mrs. Fatima asked, her gaze fixed on Amnat. Amnat appeared puzzled, scanning the room, wondering if Mrs. Fatima might be addressing someone else. Despite their closeness, Mrs. Fatima rarely discussed personal matters with her.

"I'm talking to you," Mrs. Fatima clarified, recognizing Amnat's confusion.

Amnat was taken aback by this unexpected inquiry. Drawing nearer to Mrs. Fatima, she replied, "Honestly, if you want my opinion, I believe you should devote more time to your daughter. She needs you. You spend long hours at the office, returning home late. Often, she's asleep by the time you're back, and when she wakes, you've already left for work. Mrs. Fatima, this isn't Korea; this is Nigeria. It's clear you don't know much about your daughter. You're not a bad mother, but you need to prioritize her. Take a break and care for your only daughter."

"Thank you, Amnat, but I love my job," Mrs. Fatima responded.

Amnat was surprised by this response. "Wait, that's it?" she exclaimed, taken aback. She hadn't anticipated such a simple reply. Usually, nobody spoke candidly to Mrs. Fatima, especially not about her work.