Gereksiz İntikam

66

DAWOOD’S POV

They told me she was gone.

That Tani maa was sick.

That she would come back.

But days became weeks.

Weeks became months.

And every night, I waited at the window, holding the crayon she gave me.

I didn't speak much anymore.

Only cried. Silently.

Bakhtiyar would try to make me laugh.

Rubab phupho would hold me when I shook in my sleep.

But no one… no one was Tani maa.

I forgot how her voice sounded.

But I never forgot how she smelled — like warm milk and jasmine and hugs.

I was sitting on the porch steps when I saw the van pull up.

I didn’t run.

I didn’t hope.

I just sat there, too tired, too empty.

Then the door opened.

And Danish baba stepped out.

Carrying someone wrapped in a shawl.

Small.

Barefoot.

Her head on his shoulder.

Her hands clinging to a torn teddy bear.

Her belly round like a balloon.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then—

“Tani maa?”

The wind stopped.

Time stopped.

My crayon dropped.

She raised her head slowly, blinking at me through a fog.

Her lips trembled.

Then curled into a lopsided smile.

“Dawood…?” she whispered like a secret.

I ran.

Fast.

Faster than I ever had.

Threw myself into her arms.

And she dropped to her knees with a sob.

Our heads bumped.

Our tears mixed.

I touched her face. Her nose. Her eyes. Just to believe she was real.

“I missed you every day,” I cried.

She giggled softly, touching my cheek. “Did you draw me, baby?”

I nodded through my tears. “So many times… but you weren’t smiling in them.”

She looked at me for a long second.

Then pressed her forehead to mine.

“I’m smiling now.”

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SHOAIB’S POV

I watched them from the shadows of the corridor.

I couldn’t walk fast with my leg torn and my shoulder stitched.