CONNECTED HEARTS

34: Blood and Tears

After Kaltoom finally admitted her love for Adyan, everything changed. It was like a switch had been flipped she was no longer shy or hesitant. Her affection became effortless, natural. Their bond grew deeper, their connection more intense, and soon, it was all anyone could talk about.

Even when Laila and Amani teased her endlessly about being hopelessly in love, Kaltoom didn't even blush anymore. She'd just smile, tuck her hair behind her ear, and tease them right back.

Now, with the elders having fixed a wedding date,just three months away ,the trio was huddled together in Amani's room, surrounded by fabric swatches, bridal magazines, and chaos.

Kaltoom wanted something simple, something quiet and intimate, but Laila and Amani were having none of it.

"Low-key?" Laila scoffed, flipping through a bridal catalog. "Girl, you're marrying Adyan Salman. low-key doesn't exist in his dictionary."

"Exactly!" Amani chimed in, her eyes sparkling. "This wedding has to trend, Kaltoom! You'll thank us later."

Kaltoom groaned, sinking deeper into the bed. "You two are exhausting."

The girls burst into laughter, their voices blending with the playlist humming softly from Amani's speaker. The air smelled of vanilla candles and henna lotion sweet, warm, alive.

Laila began suggesting Meems for Kaltoom's makeup, only for Amani to cut her off with a dramatic wave of her hand. "Excuse me! I've already invited my cousin from Dubai. She's a professional makeup artist. She literally does red-carpet celebrities."

Laila rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck. "Amani, please. You don't have to bring your entire extended family into this wedding."

Kaltoom face-palmed, her laughter mixing with their playful argument.

Just then, Laila's phone began to ring. She answered without checking the ID and put it on speaker.

"Hello?"

The voice that came through was trembling Khairiya's. And she was crying.

"Khairiya? What's wrong?" Laila asked, sitting up straight.

"Where are you guys?" Khairiya's voice cracked mid-sentence. "We're at the hospital... please come."

The line went dead.

For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Then panic erupted.

Laila grabbed her abaya, nearly tripping over it. Amani's voice was firm and steady despite her racing heartbeat. "Give me the keys,I'll drive. You two can't."

Within seconds, they were out the door. The car ride was silent except for the rhythmic sound of Laila's quick breathing. Her mind spun with worst-case scenarios, her heart pounding in her ears. Kaltoom reached out, holding her hand gently, offering silent comfort.

The five-minute drive to the hospital felt like hours.

When they arrived, the cold scent of antiseptic hit them immediately. They rushed to the reception desk. "Salman family," Amani said breathlessly. The nurse pointed them toward the emergency unit.

There just beyond the glass doors were familiar faces.

Khairiya was sitting beside her mother, crying uncontrollably. Adyan was there too, hands covering his face, his body rigid with tension. Their parents stood a few feet away, their expressions tight with worry.

Laila's eyes darted from one face to another, searching. "Who's hurt?" she whispered. No one answered.

Then realization struck.

Afdal and Afeeyah. They had arrived that morning from Abuja. They were supposed to come home today.

"No..." Laila's voice trembled as the truth sank in. "No, no, no, it can't be them."

But it was.

"They were brought in unconscious," Khairiya finally managed to say between sobs. "The car lost control on their way from the train station."

Kaltoom's chest tightened. The words hung heavy in the air, thick with dread.

The family waited anxiously outside the emergency room. Afdal had a fractured arm and multiple bruises, but Afeeya's case was far worse internal bleeding and excessive blood loss. The doctors were fighting to stabilize her.

Khairiya sat trembling, her tears unending. Kaltoom moved to comfort her, but her eyes caught Adyan instead. He was sitting alone, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly. His face was pale, his jaw clenched.

When he finally looked up, their eyes met and the world seemed to still.

There was fire in his eyes, fear beneath it. His emotions were raw, unguarded. Kaltoom had never seen him like that before, and it shook her to her core.

He quickly looked away, rubbing his face with both hands, as if trying to hold himself together.

The atmosphere was heavy with prayers and silence. Time stretched unbearably, until finally, the red light above the ER door flickered off.

Adyan shot to his feet.

The doctor stepped out, mask lowered, exhaustion written across his face.

"Afdal is stable," he said softly. "Just a fractured arm and a few bruises. He'll be fine."

A collective sigh of relief swept the hallway. Khairiya began crying again, this time out of gratitude.

But before anyone could exhale fully, Adyan's voice cut through the moment.

"What about Afeeyah?" His tone was sharp,desperate.

The doctor hesitated. "She's still unconscious. We've managed to stop the bleeding for now, but she's in dire need of a blood transfusion. Her blood type is AB negative extremely rare. We don't have any in stock."

The air shifted instantly.

Mrs. Salman covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Laila's knees buckled, and Amani reached out to steady her.

Adyan's father's voice broke through, firm but shaking. "Do whatever it takes. Get it from another hospital from anywhere. Money isn't an issue."

The doctor shook his head. "Sir, it's not about money. It's about finding a match and quickly. We have until 8 p.m."

Adyan stepped forward, his voice strained. "Take mine. Check me."

Kaltoom's heart skipped. She wanted to stop him, to tell him to think, but his mother caught his arm first.

"Adyan, calm down," she said softly. "Let them check first if you're compatible."

Kaltoom stood frozen, her mind torn between admiration and unease. His reaction... it wasn't just cousinly concern. It felt deeper, sharper almost haunting.

Maybe it was just the fear of losing someone close. Maybe it was something else.

Either way, as she watched him pace, hands in his hair, eyes red with emotion, she felt that same invisible weight pressing against her chest the kind that whispers that life, love, and blood are far more tangled than anyone dares to admit.

The ticking clock on the hospital wall seemed louder than ever.
Each second felt like a countdown.
And all they could do was pray.

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