The courtroom was packed. Journalists whispered among themselves, eagerly scribbling notes for their respective outlets. The accused, Faisal Malik, a dangerous and politically connected man, sat arrogantly in the dock, his eyes scanning the room with a mixture of malice and amusement. Faisal was known for getting away with his crimes—he was feared, untouchable, and ruthless.
But today, in front of him stood Meerab Khan, a woman whose reputation for standing up for justice preceded her. Dressed in her black and white robes, her jaw clenched with determination, her sharp eyes focused on the judge. She had taken on a case that many had refused, fearing for their lives. She wasn’t just fighting for her client, a young woman who had suffered the unimaginable—she was fighting for justice itself.
Murtasim sat in the gallery, his posture stiff, his eyes following every movement of his wife. His protective instincts flared whenever he thought about the kind of man Faisal was. Though he knew Meerab was strong and capable, it didn’t stop the relentless worry gnawing at his insides. She was everything to him, and he couldn’t shake off the fear that someone as vile as Faisal would retaliate in ways that went beyond the legal system.
Meerab, on the other hand, had made her stance clear.
“Mujhe tumhari madad nahi chahiye, Murtasim,” she had told him the night before the first hearing. Her voice was firm, but he could sense the exhaustion that she was hiding. “Main ye case apne balboote par jeetna chahti hoon. Tumhara naam iss case ke saath nahi judna chahiye.”
Murtasim had respected her wishes, but it didn’t mean he would back down when it came to her safety.
---
The trial had begun. Meerab’s voice rang clear across the courtroom as she cross-examined one of the witnesses. Her questions were precise, cutting through the lies that Faisal’s defense team tried to weave.
“Mr. Ahmed, aapne kaha tha ke Faisal Malik uss din wahan nahi tha jab yeh haadsa hua? Aur yeh baat aap kaise itne yaqeen se keh sakte hain jab CCTV footage aapka claim jhuti sabit karti hai?” she asked, her tone sharp as a blade.
The witness faltered, his eyes darting nervously towards Faisal, who was glaring at him. The entire courtroom seemed to hold its breath. Everyone knew the power Faisal wielded, but Meerab was relentless. She wasn’t afraid. Murtasim’s fingers twitched, his heart pounding with tension, but his pride in her swelled. She was untouchable in that courtroom, a force that even the most hardened criminals feared to face.
“Jab ek aurat ki izzat ka sawaal hota hai, toh dar ke peeche chhupna humara farz nahi hai, balki humara farz hai ke sachai ke liye ladhein,” she concluded, turning toward the judge with conviction.
Faisal’s lawyer tried his best to create diversions, bringing in political connections and technical loopholes, but Meerab held her ground. She presented evidence after evidence, cornering Faisal with every passing moment. But every time her gaze met Faisal’s, she could feel the cold hatred radiating from him.
---
As the trial days went on, Faisal’s frustration grew. His lawyers had informed him that the case was slipping out of their hands, and despite the bribery, the judge remained firm. Meerab was proving to be a bigger threat than he had anticipated.
One evening, after a particularly intense hearing, Meerab was packing up her papers when she felt a presence behind her. She turned to see Faisal standing too close, his expression a mixture of rage and amusement.
“Tumhe lagta hai tum mujhe hara sakti ho?” Faisal’s voice was low and dangerous, his breath hot against her skin. “Tum jaanti nahi ho tum kis se takra gayi ho, Meerab Khan.”
