chapter no 34

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"Mom, should I cut an apple for you?" Jibreel's question surprised Imama. The process of packing the household items had already begun, and every day, she would pack a little and store it away. 

She was busy with this task in one of the rooms when Jibreel, while helping her, suddenly asked her this question. Imama's surprise was understandable... Offering to cut fruit was something Hammeen would do, but Jibreel didn't usually do such things, nor was he fond of eating fruit. "Do you want to eat it? I can cut it for you," Imama offered in return. 

"No," Jibreel replied. He was taking clothes out of the open wardrobe and placing them on the bed near Imama, who was putting them into a bag. It was probably the first time in months that Imama felt a sense of worry. Her children were starting to sense her distress and discomfort, and this was not a good sign. For the first time in months, she looked at Jibreel closely. He was about to turn ten in a month or two, but he looked older than his age due to his height. 

In terms of appearance, he resembled Salar more than Hammeen, but both of her sons had deep, intelligent eyes like Salar's. Anyone who saw those eyes could tell they were Salar Sikandar's children.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Jibreel asked when he noticed his mother's gaze fixed on him. She smiled. "You've grown up." Jibreel looked at his mother with a bit of shyness and then, with a bashful smile, said, "Just a little." "Yes, soon you will be fully grown," she said, picking up the clothes on the bed. "But I don't want to grow up." Imama heard him say as she placed the clothes in the bag. He was emptying another shelf in the wardrobe. 

"Why?" she asked, puzzled. "Just like that," he said in a very casual manner. This was the first time Imama found his demeanor odd and confusing. They weren't the only ones troubled in that house; their eldest child was also going through similar distress, but Imama couldn't yet grasp the nature of this worry. She just took it as a reaction. 

Jibreel had always been sensitive when it came to his mother, extremely sensitive. If anything bothered him, he was the first to sense it. He wouldn't rest until he probed his mother about it. 

This was part of his nature, and Imama thought that this offer to cut fruit was also part of his concern. She knew that anyone who saw her these days couldn't help but notice her distress... her declining health, the dark circles under her eyes, and her often tear-stained and pensive eyes were enough to reveal her mental and emotional state. 

So, it wasn't unusual for Jibreel to notice it. She continued packing, watching Jibreel bring items at intervals, and then as if realizing something, she felt she should reassure him about herself to ease his worry.

"Jibreel! I'm completely fine." She realized the lightness of her statement as soon as she said it. Jibreel, standing near the wardrobe, turned suddenly to look at his mother and then said very seriously, "I know." Imama averted her gaze from him.

 It was as if Jibreel was covering for her. He didn't want to embarrass her or ask her anything because, after many days, they were finally getting a chance to talk to each other. They both resumed their work and while working, Imama noticed the unusual silence in the room for the first time. They had been working together for quite some time, but there had been very few exchanges between them. This was not normal. Whenever she and Jibreel got some alone time, they usually had a good chat. 

Jibreel would tell her many things about school, his friends, and teachers. Despite being talkative, he would share a lot with his mother during such moments. Today was the first time that, even in the absence of his younger siblings, he was so quiet. Imama's sixth sense sent a strange signal. She felt as if he knew everything. It wasn't possible, but it wasn't impossible either.

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