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Salma grabbed her professor's hand, giving it a squeeze.
"I'm so sorry, Professor," Salma whispered, her tears falling freely down her face. "I'm sorry for your loss."
The frail professor continued to grasp at his life that kept ebbing away; fighting for every breath and every heartbeat. Salma watched his unconscious and pale face, connected to several tubes and pipes through his mouth and nose. His surgeries were successful, and nine pieces of shrapnel were removed from his lungs, liver and left kidney. However, he was still critical.
"Please, come back to us," Salma continued. She raised his hand to her lips, brushing a kiss to his knuckles.
The door behind her burst open, startling her. Salma jumped from her seat, dropping R.K's hand, and covered her face.
"What in the world?!" a younger version of R.K gave a cry of surprise and confusion just as Salma turned around to face him.
The tall and lean Ken Krest bore a very strong resemblance to his father; he had the same light brown hair, same eyes and same nose. The only difference was that Ken was taller, had fuller lips and his face was slightly narrower.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know you were here," Salma stuttered. "Sorry. You - you must be Ken."
"That be me. Who are you?" Ken said, still looking confused. He had now started eyeing her 'costume and mask'.
Salma noticed a cup of coffee in his hands, and figured he had left to grab a drink. He looked worn out and tired. His raw eyes were a tell-tale sign of distress, and having cried much over the loss of his sister, and his father's grave condition.
"I'm Salma Rahman," Salma quickly explained. "Sir's student -- Professor R.K is my . . ."
"Professor?" Ken provided. "He's your professor."
"Yes, right," Salma said awkwardly.
Ken's gaze zeroed on her tear-stained niqab and the moisture around her eyes. He was probably a little confused, but then he stilled, as something occurred to him.
"Are you the bee searcher?" he asked.
Salma blinked. I'm a what?
"What's the name --"
"Salma," she deadpanned.
"Yes, Salma. The Muslim gal," he continued. "Dresses like batman, but better? One of the two ninjas?
"Sorry, what?!" Salma cried.
"My apologies," Ken said with a sigh, rubbing his exhausted eyes and face with his free hand. "I mean no offense. I've heard so much about you, it's like I know you."
Salma just eyed him incredulously. That's what you've heard about me?
Ken dropped his hand, staring at his father's still figure behind her.
"He's really fond you, you know," he said, sounding miserable. The awkwardness of Ken's sudden arrival was quickly replaced by the sadness and depression that hung heavily around them in the air once more. Salma felt her heart ache. "He talks about you a lot. 'My student Salma, you know the Muslim girl,' is how he usually starts before he tells another tale about your flawless academic record."
Salma smiled ruefully, looking over her shoulder, only to have Professor R.K fade from her vision as her eyes welled up once more.
"And Lou!" Ken laughed. Salma turned back to him to see him tearing up. "God, she would not stop talking about you and this other girl. She called you second of the two super ninjas. The other one - you probably knew her. The kick-boxing Coach who also dresses -"
"Like a ninja," Salma finished for him, blinking away tears. "Yeah, I know her."
"Yeah. . ." Ken said, looking at Salma as if he could not quite appreciate the fact that he was meeting one of the people his sister knew and loved. "Sarah, I believe her name is."
"It is," Salma added.
Ken nodded, turning to his cup. His face was wet with tears. Salma swallowed the lump in her throat. They were quiet for a while, silently mourning the loss of a spirit, they could not quite believe was gone.
"Mr. Krest," Salma said after a while, pulling him out of whatever memories of his sister he was revisiting.
"Call me Ken, please," he said, wiping away the moisture from his face with the sleeve of his camel colored jacket.
"Ken," Salma agreed. "I have to go, but if there's anything you need, please let me know."
"Yes, of course," Ken replied, forcing a smile. He moved out of the way and held the door open. "Thank you. It was pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Salma nodded.
Salma was almost out of the door when Ken stopped her.
"Miss Rahman?"
"Salma," Salma corrected.
"Salma." Ken said, a softness crossing his eyes. "There is a favor, I need of you. I, uh . . ."
He hesitated. Salma saw a load weighing down on the young man as he threw a glance over his shoulder, at his father lying motionless on the bed.
"What is it?" Salma asked, encouraging him to say what he wanted.
"Look, I probably should not ask because we've just met, but, would you please stay?" he asked uncomfortably. "Just-just till Maurice arrives. If he wakes up when - I-he . . .I really can't tell him," he almost whispered.
Salma's heart broke all over again to see how shattered and distraught he looked. Ken tried to hold himself together, desperately wrestling with his emotions as he clenched his jaws and blinked away tears but, in the end, he lost the fight, as the gravity of the situation overpowered him.
"Sorry," he muttered and swiftly gave her his back.
Salma felt her throat constrict painfully when Ken leaned against the wall and covered his eyes with his hand, breaking down into uncontrollable sobs. It was gut wrenching. To see a grown man break like that was a totally different kind of misery to witness. Salma stood where she was, staying silent, allowing the younger Krest, who was alone, wounded and scared, to let his emotions out.
Ken cried till his sobs died down to silent tears streaming down his face. Sensing her presence, he threw her a glance over her shoulder. Salma had a feeling he was uncomfortable with her having witness his moment of weakness and vulnerability but she wanted to let him know she was there for him.
"I'll be here," Salma replied. "I'll stay with you."
Ken nodded, his expressions pained and downcast eyes raw from crying.
"Thank you," he muttered. Nodding once more, he walked towards his father and took a seat on the stool Salma had occupied a while ago. He grabbed his father's hand and put his head down.
Salma took in a deep breath and walked out of the room. She had barely taken five steps away from R.K's room when she saw a distressed figure standing in front of the room next door. Tense shoulders, arms cross over the chest and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index, was the person she had been searching for, eversince her visit to the doctor's.
"Zayn!" Salma cried, racing towards him.
Zayn looked up, surprised by the sound of his name. He had just barely realized who was calling him when Salma threw her arms around his neck, tackling him in a hug.
"Oh my God! Zayn," Salma cried, feeling her eyes sting again. She pulled him closer, knowing how badly traumatized and hurt he was at the moment with all the attacks and his loved ones that got hurt. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry about Lou!"
Salma felt her chest congest once more and her throat constricted with tears but she swallowed, trying to stay stronger for him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, grabbing him tighter to prevent her own heart or his from hurting, she could not tell. Her bruise seared as it stretched, but Salma suppressed the urge to ease the pressure on it.
Zayn did not respond. In fact, he did not even return her embrace. He just stood motionless. Salma initially felt him resting his face against the side of her head but then he stopped. His hand rested on her waist. Then, he reached for her shoulders and gently pulled her back.
Salma's heart sank. He stepped away from her. She bit her trembling lower lip as she searched his downcast, red-rimmed eyes. They were dull and miserable, not meeting her gaze. Salma noticed smudges of soot and blood on his face and neck.
"What happened?" Salma asked, trying to keep her calm. "Why are you here --?"
Salma's words died in her throat as she turned to the room he was standing in front of, and through it's partially opened door, saw the patient on the bed.
"Alex!" Salma gasped. "Is that -"
Shocked, Salma stepped away from Zayn, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her. That figure covered in bandages with her face swollen and bruised could not be the FBI special agent.
"Agent Wickfield?!" Salma stuttered. "That's Agent Wickfield! How - why? Zayn?"
Zayn did not say a word. He just kept staring off into the air behind her, the only reaction from him being the slight clenching of his jaw. Absolutely dumbstruck, Salma's eyes went to and fro between the woman on the bed and Zayn.
"No! It can't be!" she whispered, feeling a chilly fear rake her spine. On impulse, Salma stepped towards the door. "How can it -"
Salma cut off midsentence when Zayn's hand suddenly shot out to grab her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Salma's gaze dropped to his hand wrapped around her bicep before she looked up to meet his grief-stricken eyes. He swallowed as he met her gaze for the first time after she had run into him.
"Her family is visiting," he said quietly. "Don't interrupt them."
Frowning, Salma turned back to the partially-open door. She moved a little to the right to see a middle-aged woman standing by Alex's head, crying. Moving to the left, another person, a blond girl came into view. She was sitting on a chair with her back towards Salma. The girl had her head resting against her hands as she sat hunched over. Her head and forearm was covered in bandages as well. Salma suddenly realized it was Alex's sister, Lenny.
She turned to see Zayn still looking at her, his eyes serious and a hard frown etched between his brow. Salma could not help but wonder if Lenny's presence was the reason why Zayn did not want Salma to enter?
Taking in a deep breath, Salma nodded and stepped back.
"I did not mean to intrude," Salma muttered. "Sorry."
Zayn let go. The two stood next to each other for a few minutes, that seem to stretch into years, but Zayn did not utter another word. Realizing he was not keen on her presence for whatever reasons; because he blamed her for his pain, because he wanted to be left alone, or because Salma was not around him for the better half of the day after the explosion, Salma decided to walk away until he was ready to talk to her.
Nonetheless, his cold shoulder had hurt. Louisa was a dear friend. Her loss had left a deep emotional gash. Salma would have wanted a little more warmth and understanding from someone who was just as close to the spirited junior, and perhaps give some love and healing in return. However, to each their own, she figured. If being cold and closed off was how Zayn dealt with all the pain and suffering he was facing, Salma thought it best to give him space to work through what he wanted.
"If you want to talk about it, I'll be around R.K's room," Salma said, blinking back tears as Alex blurred from her vision. "Ken's requested company in case R. K. rounds up before Maurice arrives."
Salma walked away. A tear escaped the barriers as she blinked to clear her vision. Salma wiped her eyes dry with her sleeves and raised her hand to knock on R.K's door to announce her presence. She wanted to let Ken know she would be in the waiting area incase he needed her.
"Bee?"
Salma's hand paused right after the first soft strike. She felt the pressure in her chest build up. Somehow, it hurt to have him call her that, right after he had totally ignored and disapproved of her presence.
"I need a word with you."
Salma closed her eyes, unable to quite decide on a response. Zayn put a hand on her waist, startling her. She took in a few deep breaths trying to calm her nerves. Releasing a breath, she nodded. Zayn pulled her away from R.K's door, leading her towards the waiting area.
"What is it?" Salma asked, after they took their seats at one corner of the hall.
Zayn fidgeted with his hands. He seemed conflicted about something. Salma realized his hands too, were smudged with black soot marks and blood, from when he had tried to help Louisa out of the car.
"It's not just Alex," he said after what seemed like a lot of difficulty.
Salma searched his face. His anguished features betrayed no other emotions, but utter defeat and despair.
"What? What do you mean?" Salma cried, starting to panic. "What happened to her? How did you -"
"She was abducted!" he snapped. "Attacked by the same people who tried to burn Niall, Darren and Claire alive, kill my grandpa and blew up R.K and Louisa!"
Stunned by his outburst, Salma just stared at him wide-eyed, her mouth agape.
"These aren't random events, Bee!" Zayn cried. "These are co-ordinated attacks targeting the people I love! Targeting me!"
Salma felt like she could not breathe. He had said the one thing she was terrified of, and now that he had said it, she was losing it all very fast. She gritted her teeth to hold her wits together.
"Alex was kidnapped and tortured by them! Her sister was held hostage! And that's not even the end of it!" Zayn cried, taking his phone out. He unlocked it and swiped across the screen before turning it around. "This is Taylor, my teammate. His fiancé is hospitalised for eating poisoned food delivered to them. She's pregnant with their child! And the food was meant for him. And this -" He held up another picture. "Robert, my brother. He just escaped a knife attack. And this -"
"Stop!" Salma raised her voice, unable to take it anymore. She was openly crying now.
"Hamza, the striker on my team. He's just a kid!" Zayn continued. "How much do you want to bet he's next?"
She closed her eyes, breathing heavily, but she could not breathe. Her lungs refused to fill with enough air. Her head was spinning.
"Where are Niall and Claire?" she asked, opening her eyes to see Zayn's eyes were red. He was desperately fighting back tears.
"Taken by your Uncle," he replied. "so safe. For now."
Salma's jaw tensed. It was all the confirmation she needed.
"It's Toryal," she said.
Zayn stared at her silently but then his expressions crumbled and he looked away. A broken laugh escaped Salma's lips.
It was over. No one had to spell it out for her to know it. It was done. They were done.
The world threatened to crash down on her, but she held it back. Her chest congested painfully, her heart ripping apart under the pressure, but she held it together. She was broken, there was no doubt about. The hit they had landed had brought forth all the cracks, but she held it firm. For one last time. For one last fight.
"This cannot be allowed to continue," Salma whispered, sucking up her tears. She needed all the strengths that she could muster, if she were to bear this blow.
"I can't," Zayn whispered, his voice laced with pain and anguish. He still would not look at her.
Salma nodded.
"You can't," she agreed.
Salma braced herself for his words as they aligned in his head. He hesitated, kept losing heart, but then he found the resolve.
"Remember when we went on the firefly date?" he asked, clenching and unclenching his fist. "It was the best night of my life."
Salma felt her eyes well up.
"It was magical," she whispered.
A smile flashed on his face for an instant, but then it crumbled and gave way to an anguished expression.
"You told me to save myself when shit hits the fan, and I took offense," he said, finally looking up to meet her gaze. "Perhaps, you were right. Perhaps, I didn't realize what it took to stand by and continue fighting."
He looked her squarely in the eyes, and Salma saw clearly the pain he had been through, and was still going through, as he arrived upon the decision that he knew would hurt them both.
"I tried my best for it to not come to this," he whispered, blinking back tears, "but Bee, I can offer you my life, not of those I love. I can't fight by your side. It's my family. The cost is too high."
Salma gritted her teeth hard against the agony. She could physically feel her chest jolting in an attempt to contain it. Her face hurt as she forced it into a contortion of what was supposed to be a smile. She grabbed his hand.
"Go!" she forced a choked whisper, giving his hand a squeeze. "Protect your family and live your life, Zayn! Go with ease!"
As her eyes blurred, and her lungs threatened to collapse, she pulled her hand back.
"Good bye, Zayn Harris," she whispered past her clogged throat. "I'll always value everything you've done for me."
Standing up, she pressed her feet to walk away, leaving a stunned statue of a man, sitting on the bench, watching her retreating back.
Author's Note:
Heartbroken 💔🥺. Toryal won after all. 😭
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Lots of Love
J.