Chaos in the Canvas √

34 | aftermath

“But what if he did it? What if he is guilty of what he’s accused of?” Hemayal probed, wanting an answer to that question with bordering desperation. 

“He is not, Hemayal. I know him. He is many things but not a criminal. And drugs? Come on, it’s so obvious he was set up.” Baba said, conviction in his words, and Hemayal almost wanted to scoff at him.

He may have not committed this crime but that didn’t exempt him from others – kidnapping, for instance. But even as her mind reminded her of his crimes, her heart knew her father was right. Ibrahim Yazdani was many things, he was not a liar.

“How do you know he was set up?” Anisha Bhabhi asked, confusion lacing her forehead, and Hemayal nodded her head, urging her father to answer.

“Why would a man involved in a case of such high importance leave the evidence in his property? Why would he even go there? You know, he is not stupid. And trust me when I say, if he were involved, he’d never have gotten caught.” Baba said, his every word supporting his son-in-law and Hemayal almost wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all.

Why had he never uttered such words for her? Why had he never shown even a small percentage of this compassion and conviction to her? 

“And his motel, with police and the news leaking at the perfect time. Hemayal, he didn’t do it.” Baba repeated, his intentions pure of not wanting her daughter to doubt her husband but this blind trust didn’t settle well with Hemayal either.

“But, Baba…” Hemayal began but was softly cut off by her father.

“Hemayal, your Dadu chose him for a reason. If you don’t believe me, believe him.” Baba’s words were soft, urging and filled with warmth Hemayal hadn’t heard before and she was effectively silenced.

Silence descended upon the room again, the newscaster’s voice now again the sole source of tear in the sacred silence inside. No new developments had taken place and she only repeated the old information.

“After a police raid in Ibrahim Yazdani’s motel on the outskirts of Abbottabad a few hours ago, the authorities found a large amount of drugs in the place. Ibrahim Yazdani, who was present when the raid happened, was arrested on spot, and taken to Islamabad for further investigation.”

The vibration of her phone pulled her out of the reverie, her eyes darting to her phone where Mustafa shone brightly.

Oh, damn.

Vacating her space, she exited the room and answered the phone, already asking heavens for strength and comfort. She knew that for the next few hours, there would be none.

“I’m at the front of your house. Come outside.” Mustafa’s voice was serious and harsh, and Hemayal gulped after a long sigh.

Ending the call, she retrieved her jacket from her room and hurriedly exited the house, the cold wind slapping her across the face as she made her way across the road to the car against which Mustafa leaned – the same place where his brother had stood not long ago and anchored her tilting world.

Don’t think about it, she cursed slightly.

“WHY?” Mustafa’s voice was loud and Hemayal flinched, retreating a step as a shiver slithered up her spine.

“You know why.” Hemayal answered after a second, hardening her voice and steeling her spine.

“Are you happy now? Satisfied?” Mustafa asked, voice hardened to stone and Hemayal gulped.

“Immensely.” She replied despite the fear crawling inside her.

“Is your grandfather alive now? Did he come back from the dead?” Mustafa asked, his eyes blaring with sheer hatred and venom.