Ties That Bind

EP42

By the time Kabir, Andre, Seyi, and the officers stormed into the building, it was too late.

Zara lay on the bed, her body limp, broken. Her legs were smeared with blood, evidence of the horror she had endured. Silent tears streamed down her face, her lips trembling as she stared blankly at the ceiling, as if her spirit had momentarily left her body. The room was filled with the eerie quiet of a tragedy that had already played out. The air was heavy, thick with sorrow and rage.

Jide Adeyemi stood nearby, his shirt unbuttoned, the predator finally caught but showing no remorse. In fact, he was smiling—a cruel, triumphant grin plastered on his face. The man had no soul left. His smug expression sickened Kabir to the core.

Outside, the guards Jide had placed were scattered around, their bodies slumped against the walls, beaten into submission by Kabir’s officers. But none of that mattered now. The destruction had already been done inside.

Kabir didn’t waste a second. His eyes found Zara first—her body trembling, her breaths shallow and unsteady. His heart shattered at the sight of her, lying there, defiled and devastated.

But before Kabir could reach her, Jide spoke, his voice laced with dark humor, "I didn’t get the seat... but I got her. And surprisingly, I got her before you did." The sick pleasure in his tone made Kabir's blood boil. Jide laughed again, a twisted sound that echoed through the room, mocking Kabir, mocking the love and life they had stolen from him and Zara.

"It was so swee—" Jide never finished his sentence.

Kabir’s fist collided with his jaw in a brutal blow, the crack of bone against bone loud in the tense silence. Blood sprayed from Jide’s mouth, his teeth cutting into his lips, but even through the pain, he kept laughing—a demented, maniacal sound that seemed to taunt Kabir even further.

The officers quickly intervened, grabbing Jide and hauling him away. His laughter echoed down the hallway, a chilling reminder of the nightmare they had all lived through. He was far from sorry. He was proud of what he'd done.

But Kabir couldn’t focus on Jide anymore. Not when Zara was lying there, so fragile, so broken. He rushed to her side, kneeling beside the bed. "Zara," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. But she didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. She just kept crying, her sobs soft but endless, her body curling into itself, as if she could somehow shield herself from the agony she’d endured.

Kabir’s heart twisted in his chest. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but he didn’t know how to begin. He gently placed a hand on her arm, but she didn’t move. She didn’t react. The vibrant, sharp-tongued woman he had known was gone, replaced by a shell of someone who had been crushed under the weight of unspeakable pain.

By the time they arrived home, Zara was still crying, her tears flowing freely, her voice lost in her grief. Kabir had never felt so helpless in his life. The anger, the frustration, the hatred for Jide and everyone involved burned like fire inside him. But none of that could undo what had been done. None of that could bring Zara back from the horror she had faced.

By the time Kabir and the others arrived back at the house, Zara’s mother and sister, Umma, were already there, waiting anxiously. Dara, Kabir’s sister, had come over too, her face etched with worry. As soon as Zara stepped out of the car, her movements slow and painful, her mother’s eyes filled with tears.

"Zara..." her mother whispered, her voice breaking as she rushed to her daughter. She pulled Zara into her arms, holding her close, as if trying to protect her from the world’s cruelties. "Oh, my baby, my Zara..."

Zara stood still, letting her mother embrace her, but her face remained void of expression. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t cry. She didn’t move. It was as though she were there in body, but her mind had drifted far away, to a place where the pain couldn’t reach her.

Umma quickly came to Zara’s side, placing a hand on her sister’s back. "Let’s take her inside," she said softly, her own voice trembling with emotion. Together, they guided Zara toward the house. Dara followed closely, her eyes fixed on Zara, as if trying to understand the depth of the pain her sister-in-law was carrying.

As Kabir watched her walk into the house, weak and shaking, Kabir clenched his fists at his sides. He had failed her. He couldn’t protect her when she needed him most, and now she was paying the price.

Inside, the house was quiet, heavy with the tension of what had happened. Zara’s mother led her to her room and helped her sit on the bed. She held her daughter’s face in her hands, searching her eyes for any sign of life, of recognition, but there was nothing. Zara’s gaze was distant, unseeing. The sparkle that once lit up her eyes was gone, replaced by a deep, haunting emptiness.

"My child..." Zara’s mother whispered, brushing her fingers through her hair. "You’re safe now. You’re home."

But Zara didn’t reply. She didn’t move. Her silence was deafening, a reminder of the trauma that had stolen her voice.

Zara’s mother helped her out of her clothes, her hands gentle as she removed the torn, bloodstained fabric that clung to her body. She bathed her, her touch soft and careful, as if afraid that any sudden movement would shatter what little was left of Zara’s strength. The water ran over Zara’s skin, washing away the physical dirt, but the wounds beneath the surface were too deep to cleanse with just water.

Umma and Dara stayed by Zara’s side the entire time. Umma massaged her sister’s arms and legs, tending to her wounds, while Dara quietly fetched clean clothes and towels. They worked in silence, their hearts heavy with sorrow.

"Zara, please..." Umma whispered as she smoothed ointment over her sister’s bruises. "Please talk to us. We’re here. We love you."

But Zara remained silent. Her eyes were open, but she didn’t blink, didn’t acknowledge their presence. It was as if she had retreated into herself, locked away in a place where no one could reach her.

Dara tried to smile, her voice soft as she knelt beside Zara. "You’re a fighter, Zara. You always have been. You’ll get through this. We’re all here for you."

Still, nothing.

The hours passed slowly. Zara’s mother and Umma stayed close, their hands never leaving her, hoping their touch would bring her some comfort. Dara sat with them, offering quiet words of encouragement, though even she seemed to understand that it was too soon for Zara to respond. The silence was unbearable, but none of them dared to break it too harshly.

Eventually, Zara’s eyes began to close, exhaustion pulling her into a fitful sleep. Her mother and sister tucked her in gently, wiping away the last of her tears. They didn’t leave her side, not even for a moment. The room was dim, filled with the soft sounds of Zara’s uneven breathing, as they watched over her, their hearts aching for the daughter and sister they could no longer reach.

As the night deepened, they sat by her side, their love and presence the only things they could offer her now. But Zara didn’t stir. She didn’t speak. The silence remained.

And so did the pain.