02 • the visit

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یہ ضروری ہے کہ آنکھوں کا بھرم قائم رہے

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"WHAT...WHAT ARE you doing here?" Mahin asked, voice troubled for a second, every single one of her defense soaring high.

"I came to see my daughter," Arsalan Kazemi replied with a smile, standing up from his place on the couch to hug his daughter. "How are you doing?"

It had been well over two months since she'd last seen her father and, in these times, he hadn't aged at all. Time, it showed, was treating Arsalan Kazemi with care. With grey hair at the temples and some lines adorning the forehead, the fifty-seven-year-old man could easily pass for forty.

"I'm fine... how did you get inside?" Mahin stepped back, creating an unconscious space between them.

"The keys. You gave me the last time I came, didn't you?"

Hearing him, Mahin sighed heavily. Although surprising his visit had been, this was no way to greet her father, she reprimanded herself. Their last phone call had ended in a fight with Mahin hanging up but he was here now, wasn't he? Tugging a smile on her face, Mahin dropped the purse on the couch and turned, throat absolutely parched by now.

"Would you like something to drink?" Mahin asked as she walked towards the dining table.

"No, I helped myself," he answered, distracted as he peered at the wall clock. "Do you always get in so late?"

"No, not always. A client came at the last minute," She replied with a smile, taking a seat close to her father on the couch. "How's Salahdir?"

The gloominess that came to rest in her voice whenever she mentioned her country wasn't far behind this time either – the tug at her heart almost physical. Her island country situated in the north of Persian Gulf had been her home until she'd seen eighteen springs, until she had to leave for college. Still her home, Salahdir was, but it'd almost been a decade since she last visited and Khodaya, she missed it.

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