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Consequences

The hospital corridor was a haven of muted activity, with soft footsteps of nurses echoing against the walls and the occasional beep of medical equipment providing a steady rhythm. Amaira walked alongside Zainab, her arm gently supporting Zainab, while Ibrahim followed closely behind, his face a mask of determination despite the lingering pain from their recent accident.

Amaira glanced at Ibrahim, concern etched in her features. "Are you sure you'll be okay going to the police station alone?" Her voice trembled with worry, the events of the past days still fresh in her mind.

Ibrahim nodded reassuringly, though his eyes betrayed a hint of fatigue. "I'll be fine, Amaira. You focus on resting and taking care of Zainab," he replied softly, his hand brushing against hers briefly before they reached the reception area.

The attending doctor approached them with a stack of papers, his expression a mix of professional concern and relief. "Here are the discharge papers for Zain. A team of doctors will visit your home daily to monitor his condition," he informed them, handing the documents to Amaira with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, doctor," Amaira said gratefully, her eyes flickering with a blend of gratitude and apprehension as she accepted the papers.

Ibrahim turned to Amaira, his demeanour serious. "I need to go to the police station now. I'll join you all at home later," he said with unwavering resolve, his voice steady despite the emotional turmoil within.

Amaira nodded, her hand instinctively reaching out to rest on his arm. "Please be careful," she murmured, her concern for him palpable in her eyes.

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The police station buzzed with controlled chaos, officers moving with purpose amidst the flurry of paperwork and urgent conversations. Ibrahim strode purposefully towards the front desk, clutching a USB drive tightly in his hand. His jaw was set, eyes fixed ahead with unwavering determination.

"I need to speak with the officer in charge. It's urgent," Ibrahim stated firmly to the officer on duty, his voice cutting through the din of activity.

The officer, recognizing Ibrahim from the recent high-profile case involving Wahaj, nodded solemnly. "Follow me," he instructed, leading Ibrahim to a secluded room where a senior officer reviewed a stack of case files.

Ibrahim handed over the USB drive without hesitation. "This contains video evidence of Wahaj shooting me, Zain, and Zainab. He also raped Saima. You have to arrest him," Ibrahim asserted, his voice steady as he recounted the harrowing details.

The senior officer watched the footage with a grim expression, his brow furrowing with each passing second. "This is substantial evidence. We'll issue an arrest warrant for Wahaj immediately, charging him with rape and attempted murder," he declared decisively, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

A surge of relief washed over Ibrahim, the weight of uncertainty lifting from his shoulders. "Thank you," he said as he turned to leave the room, finally allowing himself to hope for justice.

At the Khan Mansion

The Khan Mansion stood as a monument to luxury, its grandeur evident in every corner — from the soaring ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers to the polished marble floors that gleamed under the soft glow of warm lighting. In the living room, portraits of generations past gazed down upon the unfolding drama.

Sadia Phupho sat regally in an ornate velvet armchair, relief flooding her features as Zainab entered the room, supported gently by Amaira. "Zainab, thank Allah you're safe," she exclaimed warmly, rising to embrace her niece in a tight, comforting hug.