The Crown in the Storm ✔️

Lightning hides the colour of night.

"We don't know where she is..." Andaleeb's voice floated towards me.

I hugged my knees to my chest. The logical part of my brain knew that I was acting like a child. I would have to face this. I had lied to my father. I had run away with Feroze. I had gotten married to him. He had left me alone in a deserted place. I had disgraced my family.

"I have to check on Aziz. Zaroon, his fever hasn't broken, with the fight and now Begum Sahiba, I don't know what to do"

Zaroon was here? And Aziz had a fever?
"I can't take the car, not without permission and I don't know-how. Maybe you could call a doctor?"
Of course, they could not take the car. They would need permission from one of us. Any doctors that might have come would not make the trip during this storm. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I mulled over my options. I could stay here and wallow in my own sorrow or I could get up and decide to make myself useful. Wiping my eyes to try to look presentable, I walked to the end of the corridor.

They were both standing there, their faces concealed by the darkness.

"Get Aziz Andaleeb, let us take him to the hospital" to their credit, both of them refrained from commenting on why I had suddenly appeared from a darkened corridor. Andaleeb nodded and ran to get her son while Zaroon went to get the car. I ran to my room, thanking my stars that everyone was still in the dining hall, washed my face and grabbed my phone and wallet.

I ran downstairs to see Major Zaroon standing in the foyer with an umbrella in his hands. I nodded my thanks and followed him to the car.

Aziz moaned in the backseat. He was feverish and his eyes were closed. Andaleeb ran her fingers through his hair, muttering reassurances. My phone pinged with a message. It was Rania.  I texted her to say I was out and then turned my phone off.

It took us thirty minutes to find the nearest hospital. My legs were cramped from sitting in the front seat for too long. Zaroon helped Aziz to the emergency room where doctors milled about with clipboards in their hands. No one spared us a second glance.

Andaleeb ran towards the receptionist.
"My son, he has a fever. He's not well... he can't talk, he hasn't eaten anything..."
"How long has this been going on?" She asked in a bored voice.
"A day? Since yesterday" the receptionist nodded and tore a receipt. He had been sick for a day?
"That'll be five hundred rupees"  Andaleeb placed the money on the counter with her shaking hands. "The doctor will be with you in a moment"

I looked around at the hospital. The corridor was lined with people sitting on the benches or lying on them. Some of the people were lying on the floor, having no other place to wait. Old people sat in their chairs, their eyes filled with pain. My blood boiled as I looked at their condition. The floor was dirty and streaked with mud. Some of the tiles were broken and there was paint that was falling off from the sides.

Aziz's head lolled on his mothers' shoulders and my heart ached.
"How long do doctors take?" I asked Zaroon who had chosen to stand next to me.
"It depends" I stared at him in disbelief. A child started to cry in the distance. He stared back at me, his face blank.

Murad was going to get an earful. This was what was happening? Where were the city funds? Where were they going? And to whom? Dirty floors, lack of health professionals, long lines. No wonder the people were pissed. None of the reports detailed any of this. Ten minutes passed by. Then twenty. Still, no doctor showed up. I walked around to ease the pain in my legs and I saw a couple of doctors standing near the emergency ward, laughing and talking about their day.