*
Zainab sighed as she stretched lazily in bed, pressing the phone to her ear.
"I don't see what the problem is," she said. "There was a little stumble along the way, but everything is still under control."
She paused momentarily before she spoke again.
"I'm sure it's nothing," she said. "Whatever comes up, I'll handle it. Dealing with these people isn't exactly rocket science. Just leave everything to me."
"And what if they start to look into the matter?" the person on the other side said, their voice laced with concern. "It was foolish of you to reveal your face to her."
"Will you calm down for God's sake?" she groaned, punching her pillow to submission. "Afrah only saw my face for a few minutes. And besides, it's not like I'll be going over to their house for sleepovers. And I don't see her coming over to this house."
"And why is that?"
"I have my reasons," she grinned mischievously. "Anyway, are you still certain that there won't be any loose ends again?"
"One hundred percent," they replied. "Anyway, keep me posted on everything going on there."
"As you wish boss," she saluted into the darkness. The line went dead, and she flung the phone aside. The mother of all headaches was throbbing within her skull, and she had to rub her temples furiously if she hoped to get any relief.
With her eyes still shut, she heard the sound of the gates being opened. They must be back from the dinner. Zainab smirked as she heard the sound of the car driving in. There was something immensely satisfying about knowing that she had orchestrated the events of the evening. It was certainly not as dull as she has thought it would be. Sa'ada's slip-up had nearly ruined their plans. But she would take care of everything. If she hadn't allowed Afrah's sister to take the drink from her, things would have turned out much more satisfying.
She stood from the bed, rummaging through her bag for some painkillers. That was why she hated working alone. Efficiency was the most important thing to her. Involving someone else in her plans was always a certified way of mucking things up. But no matter. There were other ways of handling the couple of the decade.
She swallowed two pills without bothering to look for water, returning to the bed with a satisfied grunt. She pulled out her iPad from the bedside drawer, propping it up on her belly while she brought her legs up and leaned it against them.
The email contained everything she would need. Her partner was certainly thorough in their investigations.
"Interesting," she smirked as she read a particularly interesting paragraph about Adnan's antics. She smirked as she finally understood who Sam was. The information would come in handy soon. But not right now.
Closing the file, she opened the second email. She frowned at the sight of Afrah's name. For some reason, she despised the woman from the few minutes she'd spent in her presence. There was something about rich, spoilt women that pricked at her side always. She was not surprised to find her suspicions confirmed. Afrah had been a straight-A student right from kindergarten, the prime student every teacher would hope to teach. She never got into any trouble, and save for a mysterious year where she missed school entirely, there was certainly no dirt on her. Unlike Adnan.
There was just the one incident which tainted her perfect record. It was just before she graduated from primary school, and the news caused Zainab to sit up immediately.
As she read the email, her interest piqued with each word.
Afrah had been participating in a track event her school organized each year. She was eleven years old at the time, according to the hospital record. It was unclear exactly what had happened, but it appeared someone - presumably a much larger individual - had collided with her, knocking her unconscious. She was rushed to the hospital nearby when she started bleeding, and a quick examination uncovered some interesting news.
The young girl appeared to have bruises where it was certainly not expected for someone of her age to have bruises. The doctors alerted her parents immediately, and the whole case was quickly buried. Not a word was mentioned again about it, and Afrah was withdrawn from the school immediately. She spent one year MIA, until she was enrolled in an entirely different school.
Zainab set the iPad aside, grinning from ear to ear. "So," she smirked, "our darling Afrah isn't such a darling after all."
Slipping out of the bed once again, she ignored the mild throbbing in her head and headed for the door. The lights in the hallway were still on, and they momentarily blinded her as she paused to listen for voices. Satisfied that everyone was still downstairs, she headed for Yusuf's bedroom.
He was standing by the window when she entered, his hands clasped behind him while he stared calmly at the trees swaying outside. The lights were switched off, his face illuminated only by the faint light from outside. He had changed into a long dark thobe with short sleeves.
He didn't bother to turn around when he heard the door opening. There was only one person who would dare to step into his room at such a time.
"I don't think I've ever been in this room," Zainab said, staring around at the unfamiliar cream paint and plush carpets.
"Take a good look then," Yusuf replied. "This will be the last time I allow you to come to my room."
"Don't worry," she said, stepping forward and sitting on the plush mattress. She giggled as she bounced momentarily. "I won't be staying long."
"Is there a particular reason why you're here?" he asked, his eyes still fixated at the trees.
"As a matter of fact, yes," she said. "I believe I have some information which will surprise you."
"Of what nature is this information?" he asked, his voice dripping with irritation.
"Listen," she frowned, "you can drop the act. Your family aren't here to judge. I did not come here for you to give me the cold shoulder."
He said nothing, although she noticed his shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Anyway, it's about your dear old son and his precious wife," she said.
"I just got off the phone with her father," he said. "He told me about the incident at the dinner."
Zainab tried to hide her smirk.
"Am I to assume that you had a hand in it?" he asked, turning slightly to face her.
"Now why would you think that I had something to do with it?" she said sweetly.
Yusuf stared at her.
"Maybe I did," she shrugged. "Maybe I didn't. The important thing is that she's alive, is it not? Anyway, I didn't come here to discuss that. I came to talk about your daughter in-law."
"What about her?" he asked.
"I regret to inform you that someone has beaten Adnan to the punch," she said. "Her cherry's been popped."
Yusuf returned his gaze to the window, refusing to say anything. His reaction - or rather his inaction - caused Zainab to sit still for several seconds, staring at him.
"You knew that already, didn't you?" she raised an eyebrow.
Yusuf remained silent.
"Am I to assume that you had a hand in it?" she asked.
"I don't have time for your ridiculous questions," he said. "Get out of my room."
Zainab stood up quietly, her eyes fixed on him. Without another word, she headed for the door.
"Zainab," he called as she reached for the handle. She froze, keeping her back to him.
"This stays between us," Yusuf said. She sensed the anger in his voice, but there was something else there. Something she couldn't quite explain.
She stepped out of the room, nearly running into Nafisa. The latter stared at her momentarily, a look of utter loathing in her eyes before she stalked away, fuming.
*
Sa'ada threw her phone aside, squealing with delight. She didn't care that Adnan hadn't spoken in more than three syllables. The only thing she could think about was the fact that he was here.
The hotel was a quiet little establishment, tucked away in an unknown street were no one would find it unless they were looking for it. It was the ideal getaway for anyone who wanted to stay off the radar.
Sa'ada had visited the place several times, being on a first name basis with most of the staff. It was the perfect place to lay low after the events of the evening. Briefly, she wondered how he had found her here. But it didn't matter. She wanted to see him desperately.
She paused briefly to glance at her reflection before heading out, her veil trailing behind her as she headed downstairs.
Adnan was leaning against his car when she stepped out, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Sa'ada's breath caught in her chest as she saw him, and she tugged the veil backwards slightly so her hair poked out in front of her. Adnan always loved her hair.
The street was empty, safe for one other car which was parked a few meters from where Adnan had parked his car.
"Do you have any idea how heart-stoppingly handsome you look in the moonlight?" she said as she walked up to him. Adnan glanced sideways at her, his shoulders hunched over in exhaustion. He said nothing, simply staring at her. Sa'ada stopped inches from him, hugging herself against the cold wind.
"I thought you'd never come," she said. "I don't even know how you came here."
"Sa'ada," he said calmly, his voice a deathly whisper. Sa'ada shivered, not sure whether it was from the wind or from his voice.
"Let's go inside," she said, reaching for his hand. "We can talk where the cold is more forgiving."
"Get your hands away from me," Adnan flinched away from her.
"Adnan?" Her voice sounded confused, and slightly wounded. "What's wrong?"
"Sa'ada, I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me honestly," he said. "Did you or did you not attempt to poison my wife?"
If they had been standing in a brighter environment, Adnan might have noticed her pale at his words. He might even have noticed the way her eyes widened in shock.
"I... I... What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Don't play games with me, Sa'ada," he said. "You've never lied to me before, so I don't expect you to lie to me now. Did you do it?"
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," she said, taking a step back from him.
"Sa'ada," he dropped his voice even lower, "you think after all these years I wouldn't know when you're lying?"
If she weren't so terrified, Sa'ada might have found it ironic that Adnan still thought he always knew when she was lying. The one time when she had lied to him, she had gotten away with it. Even now, years later, he still couldn't tell that she'd been lying all along.
"Adnan," she whispered, "I... I didn't... I just..."
"You realize what happened today, don't you?" he said. "You nearly killed someone. You killed an innocent child. For what? Why would you be so selfish and heartless?"
"I didn't mean to," she shook her head, crumbling before his eyes. "It was supposed to be Afrah. I never intended to hurt her sister."
The rage Adnan had been holding back suddenly erupted in his, bubbling like a volcano. He took a step towards her, a murderous look in his eyes. "How dare you?!" he spat, his fingers twitching beside him.
"I hate her, Adnan," she said, tears prickling at her eyes. "I hate her. She took you away from me. She stole you from me. Do you have any idea how much I love you, Adnan? Do you know how much it hurts me to know that you married her and not me? I was meant to be the woman you spent the rest of your life with. You were meant to be with me, Adnan. Me. Not her. Have you forgotten what you promised me? Have you forgotten the history we had?"
"So you tried to murder someone?" he said, his eyes ablaze. "You understand what Allah said about taking someone else's life, don't you?"
"I didn't mean to," she repeated. "It wasn't my idea. I would never try to kill someone, Adnan. Believe me."
"Then whose idea was it?" he asked.
"I... I can't tell you," she said.
"Sa'ada," he sighed, "if you were a man, I would have hit you in the face right now. You have no idea how hard I'm trying to restrain myself."
"I'm sorry, Adnan," she cried. "I didn't mean to do it. Please, you have to forgive me."
"I cannot forgive you, Sa'ada," he said. "I can't."
"Adnan," she sobbed as she reached for him.
That was when they heard the gunshot from the car behind.
*