The Weight of Silence

Chapter 10

29. September, 1997
London, England

The evening was quiet, the kind of calm that usually lulled me into a sense of peace. I was lying in bed, the soft glow of my lamp spilling over the pages of my Bible. Reading always helped me unwind, a little ritual to settle my mind after a long day.

But then, there was a knock.

It was soft at first, almost like the wind tapping at the window. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I glanced at the clock. It was late—too late for anyone to be outside my window.

The knock came again, a little louder this time.

I sat up, my pulse quickening. Slowly, I slid out of bed, my feet brushing the carpet as I tiptoed toward the window. My hand trembled as I reached for the curtain, pulling it back just enough to see who—or what—was outside.

And there he was.

Sayjan.

I stared at him, my annoyance flaring instantly. He stood there, his face half-lit by the streetlamp, looking both nervous and determined.

I yanked the window open just enough to lean out and whisper-scream,

"What are you doing here?"

"Adma, please," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I need to talk to you."

I glared at him, glancing over my shoulder to make sure my mum hadn't heard anything.

"Are you insane? It's the middle of the night!"

"I know," he said quickly, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "But you didn't answer my calls, and I couldn't wait anymore."

"So you thought showing up at my window was a good idea?" I hissed, my frustration bubbling over.

"I didn't know what else to do," he admitted, his voice softening. "Please, Adma. Just let me explain."

I hesitated, torn between slamming the window shut and hearing him out. Finally, with a sigh, I opened the window wider and motioned for him to climb in.

"Fine. But you'd better have a good reason for this, Sayjan."

He climbed through carefully, landing softly on the carpet. As soon as he was inside, I crossed my arms and fixed him with a glare.

"Start talking."

He ran a hand through his hair, looking at me with an expression that was equal parts nervous and sincere.

"I'm scared, Adma. I'm scared of what's going to happen if people find out about us."

I blinked, taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"My friends, Adma. If they find out, they'll come in the way. They'll ruin everything. They don't understand... us. They'll say things, try to push me away from you."

His words hit me harder than I expected. I'd spent so much time focusing on my own feelings—my frustration, my hurt—that I hadn't stopped to think about what might be going on in his head.

I looked at him, my heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. I wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant every word. But before I could respond, the door to my room swung open.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

I turned sharply to see my brother, Sahmir, standing in the doorway. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of pajama pants, his chest rising and falling with anger. His eyes darted between me and Sayjan, and I could see the storm brewing in his expression.

"Wait—" I started, but Sahmir was already moving.

He stomped into the room, his fists clenched.

"You've got some nerve sneaking into my sister's room. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Sayjan stepped back, his hands up defensively.

"It's not what it looks like. I swear."

"Oh, it's exactly what it looks like," Sahmir growled, his voice low and dangerous.

He took another step forward, his jaw tight, and I could see the fight ready to explode in his eyes.

"Oh my gosh," I exclaim, stepping between them and placing a hand on Sahmir's chest.

"It's not what you think, okay? Just... calm down."

"Calm down?" he snapped, his gaze flicking to me. "There's a guy in your room, Adma. At night."

"He's not a stranger," I said firmly, trying to keep my voice steady. "He's my... friend."

Sahmir's eyes narrowed, and I could feel the tension radiating off him.

"Friend? Really?"

"Yes," I said, my voice rising slightly. "And he's leaving now. Right, Sayjan?"

Sayjan nodded quickly, his eyes wide. "Right. I'm leaving. I'm sorry for... for everything."

Sahmir didn't move, his chest heaving as he stared down at Sayjan.

"If I ever see you near her again—"

"Just get out, you're embarrassing!" I said, cutting him off.

For a moment, he didn't move, his eyes still locked on Sayjan. But finally, with a huff, he stepped back.

"Fine. But this isn't over."

I turned to Sayjan, giving him a pointed look.

"Go. Now."

He nodded, slipping back out the window without another word.

As soon as he was gone, I turned back to Sahmir, my heart still racing.

"We're going to talk about this," he said, his voice low. "But not tonight."

And with that, he left, slamming the door behind him.

I sank onto my bed, my head in my hands. The night had gone from peaceful to chaotic in a matter of minutes, and I wasn't sure how to feel about any of it. All I knew was that things with Sayjan were getting more complicated by the second.