#Chapter Twenty Four#
I was sitting in the living room mindlessly flicking through a book on our beloved prophet Jesus, when Ziad strode into the room and plopped himself next to me. It was a Saturday night and both Sarah and Abir were napping upstairs. I knew Ziad had probably come down to annoy me and usually I wouldn't mind as I enjoyed spending time with my twin, but tonight I just really preferred to wander in my own thoughts.
"Hey," he greeted, stretching out his legs on the foot recliner in front of him.
"What're you doing?"
I shrugged my shoulders and continued to shift the pages of the book between my fingers. "Not much, just reading," I mumbled.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Doesn't look like there's much reading going on..." I shrugged my shoulders again but this time, I remained silent. "Wanna watch a movie?"
"Nah, I think I'm gonna head up, shower and sleep." I placed my favourite bookmark - the one with Hieroglyphics on it - in between the page I was up to and shut the book, placing it on the coffee table.
"Oh, come on, don't make me do this," Ziad groaned, removing his feet off the recliner and sitting up straight.
"Do what?" I asked in confusion.
"All this touchy-feely stuff. I already have to do it with Sarah," he remarked. I rolled my eyes. "It's clear you're upset and that it's about baba."
"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed and frustrated. There's a difference."
He stared at me dryly. "You're upset Sameena."
I let out a breath of air. "It's just that...don't you see how Isaac is negatively influencing baba?"
"I can't say that I do, but then again I'm not as involved with baba's work as you are," he observed.
"I just don't feel right about him, there's something off. I feel it in my bones every time I'm near him," I confessed.
Ziad gave me a look. "Are you sure you're not just overthinking things here?"
"No! Ziad, I'm being serious. I don't like him, not one bit. It makes me suspicious when he can come in and change the ideals that baba has held so dear to his heart for years. I don't trust him." I crossed my arms over my chest and turned to stare ahead, biting my lip in contemplation.
I was doing the whole ignoring thing with baba again and unfortunately, we were both stubborn; it was the trait I had definitely inherited from him.
"Calm down Sameena," Ziad said, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm sure baba knows what he's doing. After all, he has been the Prime Minister for over thirty years."
YOU ARE READING
An Echoing Race.Spiritual
The last two years of Sameena Ahmad's life have been interesting, to say the least. Why? Maybe it was because she was the Prime Minister's daughter. Or maybe it's because that's when the suitors started knocking on her door. One after another, Samee...