A walk on thorns

Chapter 57| Innalillahi...

Sabrina POV

They returned me to the road where my car was parked, everything in the car was intact, and my phone was there, just everything. I hurriedly locked the car after they left, but the uncertainty gripped me. I couldn’t even say if I was making the right decision. If Mukhtar and Nadeera were the ones behind this, that place was no longer safe. My mind drifted to JJ, MJ's father. But then, they hadn't asked me about the recording. Hell, they said the kidnapping was a mistake. Was I just caught in a web of lies? Did I fall into the wrong hands, or was this all a setup? My thoughts were tangled, unraveling faster than I could keep up with. I was just driving, because my mind wasn’t functioning properly. This whole thing was getting the best of me, and the fear was slowly eating me alive.

I grabbed my phone, checking the time, 2:30 PM. What?! I had spent almost the entire day at their place. My heart began to race. But what terrified me the most were the 32 missed calls. Panic surged through me. What happened? Who was calling me 32 times?

I parked by the side of the road, hands trembling as I scrolled through the missed calls. Ten were from Anisha. My heart skipped a beat. Was something wrong with her? Or Rubina? My throat tightened with fear. Ya Rabb, please be okay. Twelve missed calls from an unknown number, and eight from Farhana. My confusion deepened. What was going on? Who should I call first?

I called Anisha first, my hand shaking as I hit the dial button. No answer. I called Farhana, nothing. The same with the unknown number. My anxiety gnawed at me, unbearable now. I felt like I was choking on it. My heart was pounding, threatening to burst from my chest.

I started the car again, desperate to get home, but the dread that clung to me was suffocating. I said a quiet prayer and inhaled deeply, forcing myself to calm down even if the world around me was unraveling.

As I neared the area, my phone rang again. The caller ID showed another unknown number. My hands were clammy, my thoughts scattered. I quickly answered, bracing myself for whatever news awaited.

“Farhana?” I asked, my voice faltering.

“Yes, it’s me,” came her reply, but her voice was deep, distant, almost unrecognizable.

“What’s going on? I’ve seen tons of missed calls, and you didn’t pick up when I called back,” I asked, panic rising in my throat.

“Where are you?” she asked, her tone low, almost strained.

“I’m on my way back home from school. Is everything okay?” I pressed, my hands shaking, my mind spiraling with a thousand questions.

“Can you come home, to our house?” she asked, her voice quivering, and my heart almost stopped in my chest.

“What is it, Farhana? Is everything fine? Did you talk with MJ? Is it Mommy Malika?” I fired off, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a frantic rush.

“No, no. Calm down, Sabrina,” she said, but her voice offered no comfort. “It’s nothing. We spoke with him just a few minutes ago. I just need you to come. Mommy Malika is not feeling well. I need you to talk to her.”

A wave of relief washed over me, but only slightly. He’s okay. I repeated the thought, like a mantra to calm myself.

“Fine, I’m coming. The seventh house behind the park block, right?” I asked, needing reassurance.

“Yes, please hurry,” she urged, her voice tight.

“Okay, I will. In Sha Allah,” I replied, still trying to steady my trembling hands before I hung up.

This was bound to happen. Seeing MJ off as a mother was never going to be easy, and I knew it wasn’t for me either. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for her. And his father? A selfish man who never saw things from anyone else’s perspective. Only God knew what he’d done to her over the years. I just prayed he wouldn’t be there.