Zoya hears her mother call her name from downstairs, so she gets up and heads down.
As she gets to the top of the stairs, her mother pulls her back and whispers, "Don't go there, I heard it too."
Zoya Zinadine, an executive interior designer of Gate...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*Zoya's POV* :
My hands were trembling, and my legs were shaky.
"Act brave Zoya! You can do it!" I reminded myself, walking towards the garden.
It was a hot day and I could feel sweat dripping down my spine. I was still holding onto that piece of paper. It looked like bloodstains, so thick and pure.
A thief?
No, that's impossible. Why'd he waste his blood on this paper? The gate's locked and nobody could enter the house without the allowed fingerprint. I was freaking out, but I put on a brave face.
Who wouldn't?
I saw something moving here and there. I walked towards the gate immediately, grabbing the heavy shovel, which was on my right.
"I've got to defend myself, no matter what. And if you're a thief... I'm going to call the cops or make the shovel, do it's work," I whispered silently, praying that the burglar should've run away.
One.... two.... three....
I opened the gate, pointing the heavy shovel to his back. I was right!
"You thief!! Aren't you ashame-"
"Assalamu Alaikum sissy!" He said, unlocking the gate.
"Oh, my god! What's all this?" His sister asked, laughing at me.
"Hammaad!" I screamed, throwing the heavy shovel on the ground.
"You're panting," He said, entering the house.
"Aaarghhhh! What's wrong with you? Were you the one who threw that stupid letter?" I asked, huffing.
"Yes, it was my idea!" His sister Nayela said, hugging me.
"Nonsense. I was so frightened. And... was it written in blo-blood?" I asked, rubbing my temple.
"I can see how frightened you are. Blood? Are you kidding me?" He asked, meddling in his phone.
"I was just kidding too," I said, trying to hide how embarrassed and stupid I was to assume that they wrote it in blood.
"I called your mother, and she informed me she wasn't home and that you were all alone. So we decided to prank you," Hammaad said, giving high fives to his sister.
"Nice try, but I'm brave, you know," I said, smiling.
"We saw," they said, throwing the bottle of red paint at me.
Red paint!
"Thank god you didn't kill me with that shovel," Hammaad said, following us to the kitchen.
"I'd have if you haven't uttered the word sissy," I said, opening the refrigerator.
"Alhamdulilah!" He said dramatically, heading towards the living room.
Hammaad is my closest cousin brother. He's my mother's sister, Anya's son. I consider him as my brother and he considers me as his own sister. His sister Nayela is Lia's age and they're good buddies. He was in Germany for three months for a business purpose and that's when he met Dan and asked him about our love story. Hammad is back now and I'm so happy! He is a sweet brother who has always been with me and yes; I spent my childhood with him. We went to the same school and same college! I love this entire family sincerely.
"I'm thirsty, Zo!" I heard Hammaad screaming.
"Give me five minutes and the juice is done!" I screamed, transferring the pomegranate into the blender.
"I've washed the glasses," Nayela said, placing three glasses on the tray.
"Thank you. But you don't have to," I said, switching on the blender.
"Come on, you're my sister and I'd do anything for you," she said, smiling and exiting the kitchen.
"Haha," I said, smiling back. As soon as the juice was ready, I poured it into the glasses and served it to Hammaad and Nayela.
"So good," Hammaad said, gulping the juice.
"You know me, right?" I said, raising my brows.
"Yes yes. So how's Dan? I met him at a business party that day," He said, raking his hands through his black hair.
"Yup. He told me that day," I said, smiling.
"You acted like as if you don't know how the two of us met," I said, smacking his arms playfully.
"I wanted to hear it from his side. Love story goals," He said, laughing.
"Haha. So how's Anya Aunty?" I asked, sipping the juice.
"She's okay. She'll be here in a while." He said, standing up.
"I've got to meet one of my friends. I've to leave now," He said, heading towards the door.
"Be a good boy, big brother!" Nayela screamed out of nowhere.
He sticked his tongue out and bid goodbye to me and he disappeared.
*****
"Lia, pack this. No, not the blue one. Adiva, get the white frock," I heard my mother screaming in her room.
"Alright. Chill mama," Lia said, winking at her.
"No Lia. Don't wink," my mother said, heading towards the kitchen in a hurry.
My mother returned home late in the evening after her shopping. I cooked lunch with Lia, Adiva and Nayela as soon as they came home from school. Since it was a sudden plan, there were no days to plan for anything. My parents will leave day.
Our house is filled with laughter of kids, gossips of aunts and political talks of uncles... the only room which is empty is my mother's. I was talking to my aunts and uncles while Lia and Adiva were carrying on with the packing.
"Assalamu Alaikum, my daughter," Aunty Inshia came, opening her arms for me.
"Walaikum Salam, Aunty. How are you?" I said, hugging her.
"Alhamdulilah. How are you, darling?" She asked, taking a seat on the couch.
"I'm good," I said, sitting beside her.
"You look like a bride already. Masha Allah. We're proud to have you," she said, smiling.
"Thank you," I said, giving her my sweetest smile.
"Assalamu Alaikum, Inshia," my mother came to her. Aunty Inshia hugged my mother and handed over a box to her. I excused myself and headed towards the dining area to arrange the table.
"Hey!" I heard someone calling me in a shaky voice.
I turned behind, finding my sister Lia crying.
"Is everything alright? Why are you crying?" I asked, hugging her.
"I- I got a call again!" She said, placing her phone on the dining table.
Your votes matter! Please tap the star button below to vote ❤️🧚🏻♀️ See you in the next chapter ☘️ Thank you xx
