Alnihayya

||C o l l a p s e||

"What do they want from us?" I asked while Ssanan busied himself in a fruitless attempt of clearing the blood smears off the floor, his brown shalwar getting stained in the process.

He stopped wiping the floor and glanced at Zeyara. "Your husband should know better but the little information I was allowed is that someone had offered the Islamic state militants huge amounts of money and land in exchange for killing MZS."

I could feel Zeyara squirm uncomfortably as Sanan continued speaking, "I heard they killed MZS but they were still not given the land and money they had been promised because the person who made the deal said they killed the wrong MZS. Now that they got their hands on the correct MZS, they are trying to raise the offer. They've been threatening the person to increase the money for killing MZS or else they'll let him know who is the one after his life."

"Why..... Why are they all after Zeyara?" I barely mumbled in a scared voice.

"Ask Zeyara." He shrugged, leading me to stare at my husband who didn't say a word, nor did he move his hand to at least hint something. I figured it was either too hard for him to speak or maybe it was something he couldn't say in front of Sanan.
For even I myself, didn't trust Sanan now.

"I got some food for you." Sanan said suddenly, rummaging through the black bag he had brought along. He pulled out several dates and a half eaten markook. Flatbread.
"I'm sorry. That's all I could save while not seeming suspicious."

"You don't know how grateful I am Sanan. Jazakumullah khair." That was a genuine statement, coming more from my growling stomach than from my mouth.

I could survive eating a couple of dates. Zeyara needed the rest to heal.
After brief resistance since the food had come from Sanan and could potentially be poisoned, Zeyara let me feed him. I had to dip the markook in water to make it chewable for his weak jaw and remove the seeds from the dates.

I was too absorbed in feeding my injured husband that I didn't notice Sanan inspecting my leg. I was taken by surprise when he suddenly asked in a concerned tone. "What's wrong with your leg?"

"Nothing, it's perfect." I answered, a bit too quickly. Even though I knew the damage was a lot and could possible lead to me being legless but telling him meant that he would want to see it and dress the wounds.
Knowing the feelings he used to have for me and probably still had, it seemed far from right. Especially in front of my husband.

"There's a pool of blood under your leg lady and you're telling me it's perfect?" He rose his brow in disbelief.

"No, seriously. I'm fine." I emphasised but it was a lost debate. Even Zeyara had started fidgeting, concerned about my injured leg.

As realisation dawned on Sanan's face, he ended up smirking. "So you prefer to end up legless or probably even die because of loss of blood than letting me see your leg? The Islam I know, does not teach this at all."

"It's not necessary! I'm fine." I argued. He had already seen my face twice and it had caused enough fitnah for him to come propose me. I wasn't ready for more.

"Zawjati- l- let h-him." Zeyara managed to whisper.
That was it. I wasn't going to argue with Zeyara after all that happened.
I gave up and lifted my abaya to reveal the injury.

It really was awful and both of the boys flinched when they saw how deep it was.

"That's what you call perfect?" Sanan remarked incredulously. "You can easily say good bye to your leg if you don't get it treated."