Destiny to Revenge

Chapter 19: The Scars

I couldn't believe my eyes.

Eshan looked so helpless and weak. I just wanted to pull him close to me and hug him. He looked so worn out, lying in the bed and unconscious. His business suit was still on him.

I bend down and touched his forehead. My eyes wided.

Eshan had a fever and his skin was really hot. I wondered if Aliya and Yasir even checked his temperature.

I touched his warm cheeks and shook him a little. He didn't woke up.

I needed to check his temperature. I was going to move my hand from his face when I heard him mumbled out something.

"Sarah . . ." A soft low whisper escaped his lips.

I stopped my hands immediately from pulling away from him and stared at Eshan.

Was he just now talking in his sleep?

"Esh-" I stopped myself immediately.

What was I doing?

I was still in disguise.

If Eshan woke up right now, he would see me in as Mr. Ifra here.

He would ask question and who knows how he would react.

But I do have to change his clothes and check his temperature.

But if right now I try to get close to him, and he wakes up in between and sees me as Mr. Ifra here, it would be a mess.

I can't reveal myself yet and put Eshan's life in danger.

But what should I do . . . ?

I thought for a while and an idea popped into my mind.

Why didn't I think of this before?

I could just remove my disguise and be Sarah. Eshan was too weak and has a fever. Even if he wakes up, he would think of it as a dream.

Plus, 5 years ago, I fell from a cliff in front of him. I am sure he saw me falling down. He knew I was no longer alive.

He would believe it as a dreame when he wakes up for sure.

Yes, that was it. It was just going to do what I planned. But before that, I needed to arrange something for Yasir and Aliya.

I took out my phone from my jeans pocket. I dialed Eugene's phone number and phone called him.

He picked up the phone call after a while. "Hello Ms. Ifra?"

"Eugene, are the kids alright?" I asked.

"The kids are good. In fact two young children came to play with the little ones," Eugene said.

He must be talking about Aliya and Yasir.

"Listen Eugene," I said. "I have something to do tonight. I need you to get the kids and the other two children in a different suit in another floor. Let the older children know that their brother wants to stay alone today and the doctor is checking on him."

"Their brother? Ms. Ifra, weren't you working in a case-"

"Eugene!" I said, sternly. "I have some other things to do. For now, do what I said. I will be there to pick up the kids later."

"Yes, Ms. Ifra," he said and hung up the phone call.

I put the phone away and took off my hijab. Putting it on the sofa, I rushed to the washroom. I quickly washed myself and removed my makeup. Pulling the nose hoops that I was wearing, I looked myself in the mirror.

I had my long, wavy and brown hair, fair skin and brown eyes. My hair was messy and held few curls. I was just wearing a simple beige top with blue jeans.

This should be okay. I got out of the washroom and walked to Eshan's room where his closet was. Opening the closet, I pulled out a pajama and t-shirt.

I knew Eshan always carried emergency medical equipments on his suitcases. So, I went through his suitcases which were just a feet away from his closet.

I pulled out a box and opened it. It had a bunch of bandages and a few tablets. I grabbed the thermometer and the tylenol tablet there and put the box away.

I then went near Eshan and sat on the bed. I needed to change him first. I took out his neck tie and began to unbutton his shirt. After I finished unbuttoning I pulled out the shirt, revealing his bare chest. My eyes ran down to his chest where I saw several cuts and bruises.

What happened?

Some cuts were still red which meant that it wasn't too long ago where these cuts were made. Some were just purple or had marks.

I ran my fingers down on his bare warm chest.

How did this happen?

My fingers ran on his cuts and I felt him winching in pain.

Tears rolled down my eyes.

What the hell happened to Eshan for these 5 years, darn it?!