Alina Raza:
The scent of freshly chopped coriander and simmering spices filled the air, clinging to my clothes and hair like a warm embrace. I stirred the pot gently, peeking at my mother who was rolling out roti with practiced hands beside me.
It was just an ordinary evening. Simple. Peaceful. Safe.
The doorbell rang.
"That must be Baba," I said, smiling as I wiped my hands on my apron.
I ran toward the front door, excitement fluttering in my chest. Baba always brought a calm with him, even after the hardest day. I opened the door with a wide grin.
"Aslam o Alaikum, Baba!" I threw my arms around him.
He smiled, tired but warm, as he hugged me back. "Wa Alaikum Assalam, meri jaan." He handed me his briefcase, and I took it eagerly.
"How is my darling today?"
"I'm great! I made your favorite—mixed vegetables, just how you like them." I beamed.
He kissed my forehead, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Perfect. I'm starving. Is Rohail home yet?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. But I'll serve him once he's back from work."
With a soft smile, Baba walked toward his room to change, leaving me humming to myself as I returned to the kitchen.
The doorbell rang again.
"Must be Rohail now," I said to Ami, who looked up from her cooking with a hopeful smile.
I rushed to the door, wiping my hands one last time on the towel draped over my shoulder.
But when I opened it—
It wasn't Rohail.
Two uniformed policemen stood outside. The taller one looked at me, his gaze serious, unreadable.
"M-May I help you?" I asked, my voice catching.
"Is this the residence of Rohail Raza?"
I nodded slowly, confusion tightening my chest. "Yes, it is."
The man glanced inside, then back at me. "Is there any elder at home?"
"Y-Yes. One moment," I stammered, fear creeping up my spine like ice. I turned and bolted down the hall.
"Baba! Baba!" I knocked on his door urgently. "There's police at the door!"
The door opened almost instantly. Baba stepped out, his face tight with worry. Ami came too, wiping her hands, confusion knitting her brows.
"Yes?" Baba asked the officers, standing tall but calm.
The policeman didn't flinch. "Your son, Rohail Raza, is under arrest. He has been accused of stealing a large sum of money from the company where he works. The inspector has summoned you to the station immediately."
The words struck like a thunderclap.
I stood frozen, heart slamming against my ribs. Ami's face went pale, her knees buckling beneath her.
"Ami!" I rushed to catch her as she collapsed to the floor.
"My… my Rohail?" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "No… not my son. He's not that kind of boy. He wouldn't steal… not Rohail."
Baba's expression didn't falter, but I saw the shadow pass over his eyes. Quiet. Controlled. The way he always got when things fell apart.
He turned to me, gently helping Ami up. "Look after your mother, Alina. I'll go see what this is about."
I nodded, trying to breathe through the panic closing in on my chest.
As Baba left with the police, a storm entered our home.
And I didn't know yet that this was just the beginning.
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