From Aliya to Hafiz

Forty-five.

Aliya.

When I saw him gripping his head tightly as his body trembled, looking to be in excruciating pain, my heart sank. I recalled he told me something was wrong with him, but I took it as him finding excuses. Was this it?

I had no time to think further because his body crumpled to the floor as he lost consciousness. Thankfully, Ya Unais was there to hold him up, he then laid him gently on the floor.

"Hafiz!" I patted his cheek firmly. "Hafiz!?" My hand trailed to his chest to feel his heartbeat; it was normal.

Jasra and Bailey ran over, each looking worried.

Bailey reached for him. "Hafiz what's wrong—!"

"Don't touch him!" I snapped at her with a scowl. "Stand back."

"Who do you think you—!"

"Give him some breathing room," I glowered at her, an intense feeling of dislike coming over me.

Although she scowled at me venomously, her worry for Hafiz seemed to have won because she stepped back.

"Hafiz," I called, the pace of his heart remained unchanged underneath my palm.

"No...no, h-how did he resist it!? It's impossible—"

"Shut up!"

My eyes briefly moved to Genevieve and Calista's faces marred with disbelief and shock, before looking at Jasra who knelt beside me. "Use my phone on the table to call David, we have to take him to the hospital."

My hand went back to cup his face, even while unconscious, his eyebrows were tightly furrowed and his hands trembled imperceptibly. I frowned.

"No need," Ya Unais said just as Nine strolled towards us from the direction of the front gate. "A car is waiting outside for us."

Mo Sihan then hauled Hafiz over his shoulder like he weighed nothing and strolled back to the gate, pace unchanged. Jasra, Ya Unais, and I  quickly rushed after him.

"I'll come with you guys," Bailey chased after us.

I turned around with a scowl, ready to just tear her one when Ya Unais levelled her with a cold glare. "Take another step, I dare you."

She flinched, glued to her spot. This time around, she didn't chase after us when we left. Her other two companions were whispering something to themselves quietly, expression still panicked.

I didn't have the time to wonder about what they were scheming. After settling down in the car, the man whom I assumed to be Ya Unais's driver started the car and drove off. We arrived at a pharmacist-manned clinic and Hafiz was taken to a ward while Nailani, the pharmacist in her late thirties, asked us about his condition.

"What's your relationship with the patient? What happened and how did he pass out?" Nailani asked.

"I'm...his wife," I awkwardly said before shaking it off. "He suddenly gripped his head and complained of pain, his body was also trembling. I believe he passed out from the pain, and I'm not aware of any such thing in his family's history. Ya Unais?"

"No, nothing of this sort has ever happened in our family," he answered. His hair which was originally sleeked back was tousled and there was no hiding the worry on his face.

"What about the patient's medical and social history? Does he normally complain of head pains like migraines or was stressed recently? What is his history with alcohol and..." Nailani trailed.

Ya Unais frowned. "He's clean, I made sure of it."

"He was on dr—"

"Not anymore, that was more than three years ago," he snapped.