Operation: Dard and Devotion

17 | Kin & Kind

I prayed to have some warm, fresh air since the dungeon was unbearably cold and my clothes were thinning, as well as Saad's. A wicked, frigid draft swarmed around the mucky, four-walled stone room and sometimes, I'd hear screams coming from other rooms that were a few hallways down. Often times, the thumping sound of boots marching up and down the corridors resounded in my ears, but I wasn't sure if I was simply hearing things in my head or if someone was actually walking along the passageway. Either way, nobody came to visit for days.

The baby was having a crying fit again. I paced around the room with Saad in my arms, softly singing to him in an attempt to quiet him down when the door suddenly flew open.

I rolled my eyes, strode to the farthest corner of the room, and daringly sat down with Saad curled up against my chest. I had gotten used to the absence of that face and I wasn't ready to deal with him already.

"If you're going to be useless again, you might as well save your efforts and retreat back to wherever you just came from," I muttered, patting Saad's back to calm me down.

"Stop being rude and disrespectful," Ahsan mocked me, holding a black bag in his gloved hand. "And oh, I think you'd want me to stay."

"If you have food, then hand it over," I said harshly, eyeing the bag in his grip. "If not, then bye."

Ahsan shook his disapprovingly and clicked his tongue. I turned my head and stared at the wall, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Resting my head on the top of Saad's hair, I swayed side-to-side, relieved that the child was finally fast asleep. Ahsan shut the door and took a few steps closer to where I was sitting. "I guess that means you have no intention of telling me who Hazim Ishfaq and Huda Muhammad are."

My head snapped up so quickly that I slammed against the wall behind me. I barely felt the pain. "Who?"

"Hazim Ishfaq and Huda Muhammad." Ahsan sat cross-legged on the ground some feet away from me and eyed me intently. "Know them?"

Do I?

"I..."

"You may be surprised to hear this coming from me, but I recently decided to open the Bible and I came across an interesting story. It was about a guy named Peter who denied knowing one of his good friends, Jesus actually, when he was questioned by Jewish priests. Peter denied knowing Jesus three times." He paused. "Are you going to deny knowing your own parents in the same way?"

My insides flipped over and I strongly desired to black out completely.

My parents.

With any other person, parents would be the first people an individual would think of if they were in my situation.

But, how many times have my parents crossed my mind since I arrived here?

Ahsan snapped his fingers to bring me back to reality and raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

"They...they're my parents," I said quietly.

"Oh, really? I wouldn't have a clue if you didn't say that yourself," he muttered snidely.

My shoulders slumped. I didn't want to have this conversation. "What...I mean, how did you hear about them?"

"They were interviewed a few days ago."

"Interviewed?" I gaped at him in shock. "For what? By who? Why?"

"Because Zaakhir's video with you in it was released and your family was contacted to speak out to a channel. The interview was aired on multiple channels." Ahsan took something out of his bag. "Wanna see?"