Episode 7:
It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The sunlight had wrapped everything in its warm embrace, while a cool breeze drifted gently through the air. Everyone was busy continuing their own journey.
Maryam stood in front of the main gate, talking to the security guard. The anxiety on her face was impossible to hide.
"I want to meet Ms. Isra."
The guard looked at her questioningly.
"But who are you?"
Maryam hesitated before replying.
"Uh... I... Ifrha... she knows me."
The guard answered seriously,
"Ma'am is at the office right now. She might come home tonight... or perhaps tomorrow morning. She doesn't have a fixed time to return these days. She's been extremely busy lately."
"Thank you very much."
Maryam slowly turned away. She stopped a passing bus, climbed aboard, and quietly took a seat.
The four-story building was crowded with people. Employees hurried about, each absorbed in their own work. Among them walked Maryam, her face filled with disappointment. Tears welled up in her eyes as memories came flooding back—memories of the day she had first met a stranger.
"Ma'am, there's a young girl here who insists on meeting you."
The receptionist informed someone over the telephone while Maryam waited patiently in front of the counter.
"Please come with me."
The receptionist led the way upstairs. Maryam followed behind, glancing around the building as they climbed the stairs.
The receptionist pointed toward an office door.
Maryam slowly stepped forward and entered.
The office was empty except for Maryam and a woman sitting behind the desk. The woman was busy talking on the telephone, her face carrying an unusual sense of calm. After ending the call, she looked at Maryam with unfamiliar eyes.
Quietly, Maryam took an old photograph out of her bag.
The face in the picture was exactly the same as the woman sitting before her. The only difference was obvious—the woman in the photograph looked poor, while the woman before her now radiated wealth and luxury.
A faint smile appeared on Maryam's lips.
At last, she had found the woman she had been searching for over so many days.
"Who are you? Why do you want to meet me?" the woman asked as she placed the phone down.
Maryam was startled by the sound of her voice.
"I've heard you even came to my house," the woman added while arranging the files scattered across her desk.
With a gentle smile, Maryam said,
"I don't know whether I should call you Ma'am... or Aunt. After all, you're ifrha's mother. She's my closest friend... not just a friend, but like a sister to me."
Respect and affection shone clearly on her face.
"W-What? What are you talking about?"
The woman let out a sarcastic laugh and rose from her chair.
Maryam spoke seriously.
"I'm talking about your daughter. I think ever since she grew up, she's searched for you everywhere."
Both sorrow and happiness were visible on her face.
"I'm happy that the two of you will finally meet again."
The woman angrily walked toward her and shoved her backward.
"What nonsense are you talking about? Have you lost your mind? What rubbish is this?"
Disgust and irritation were written all over her face. Maryam suddenly felt as though she had made a terrible mistake.
"Listen carefully! I don't have any children. And whoever you're talking about—I don't know her."
The woman turned her face away as though she wanted to bury the subject forever.
"What...? What are you saying? Please... don't deny the truth. She's your daughter. Look... this is your photograph, isn't it?"
Maryam held out the photograph with trembling hands.
The moment the woman saw it, she froze.
Her eyes remained fixed on the picture, as if the past had suddenly come alive before her.
In the photograph, she stood beside a man, holding the hand of a little three-year-old girl.
Maryam's voice trembled with emotion.
"Please, Ma'am... just meet her once. She is your daughter. She has spent years waiting to see you. She searched everywhere for you. She never imagined that today... I would finally find you."
The woman replied in a bitter tone,
"If you're really her good friend, then give her this message: I have forgotten her. I have no children. To me, she was nothing more than a business loss that brought me nothing but pain. It took me years to recover from that loss, and now I don't even want to think about it anymore."
Every word that came out of her mouth struck Maryam's heart like a sword.
"Now leave... and never come before me again."
There was a smile on her lips, but behind that smile lay nothing but hatred.
Tears began to stream down Maryam's face.
"No matter what you say, the bond between a mother and her daughter cannot be broken. She is still your daughter today. Such words do not suit a mother."
"Security... Security! Throw this girl out. She's crazy!"
As soon as she shouted, a security guard entered the office and began dragging Maryam outside by force.
"Please, Ma'am... you can't do this... Please!"
Maryam's voice echoed throughout the entire floor.
Abaan was sitting in the meeting room. His secretary, Shameer, was seated on his right, while the owner of the company sat across from them. They were discussing an important business project when Maryam's voice from outside reached the room, and silence fell over everyone for a moment.
The company owner smiled and said,
"I am truly grateful that you personally agreed to donate to this project. It is an honor for us that Mehar Group is supporting us in this noble cause. So, what are we waiting for? The project will begin tomorrow."
He was a dignified man dressed in an elegant suit.
Abaan stood up from his seat. His striking personality naturally drew everyone's attention. The scarf wrapped around his face made him appear even more charismatic. Two bodyguards, dressed in black suits, silently followed behind him.
The moment they stepped out through the company's glass entrance, it began to rain. The raindrops sparkled like pearls under the sunlight.
As they walked, Shameer said,
"What strange weather. Just a moment ago, the sun was shining, and now it's raining. They say that if it rains while the sun is still out, any prayer you make is accepted."
Just then, a black luxury car stopped in front of the company. Shameer opened the door, and Abaan got inside. Shameer joined him, and the car slowly drove away.
Abaan quietly watched the raindrops falling outside the window.
"What a beautiful sight..."
He took a deep breath and smiled faintly.
Suddenly, his eyes fell upon Maryam sitting alone at a bus stop. She was completely drenched by the rain, and helplessness was clearly written across her face.
A strange restlessness arose in Abaan's heart.
"Stop the car!"
he ordered immediately.
The driver stopped the car a short distance ahead.
Without wasting a second, Abaan stepped out into the rain and ran toward Maryam without caring that he himself was getting soaked. His bodyguards also got out, but Shameer immediately stopped them.
"Stay back."
The guards remained where they were.
Abaan crossed the road and reached the bus stop. Maryam sat there silently, soaked by the rain. Her eyes were filled with tears.
She lifted her gaze and saw a handsome young man walking toward her without caring about the rain. The wind played gently with his hair.
"Why are you sitting here in such heavy rain? Come with me."
Abaan said softly yet firmly as he approached her.
He tried to shield her from the rain with his coat.
This was the same man who had never cared whether any girl was present or absent. Countless girls had fallen in love with him, yet for the very first time, his heart was restless for a girl who was completely lost in her own pain.
Maryam looked at him silently.
"Don't pity me."
She gently pushed him away.
Abaan took a step back, then calmly replied,
"This isn't pity."
Maryam stopped walking. She turned around and stood very close to him.
"If a mother doesn't even care about her own child... then who are you to me? You're getting soaked too. Go away. I'm used to all of this."
She said coldly.
Abaan's eyes remained fixed on her.
"If that's really the case... then I'll have to become a part of that habit as well."
For the first time, his feelings were clearly visible in his eyes.
Maryam looked into his eyes and said with a faint sarcastic smile,
"Oh... but you'll lose."
After saying that, she turned away and slowly walked ahead. She no longer cared what anyone thought about her. She had already been broken from within, and she continued walking with that shattered soul.
Abaan silently followed behind her.
The two of them walked along a deserted road, lined with dense rows of trees on both sides. The rain had stopped, but the cool breeze still lingered in the air. A few people could be seen here and there on the road.
Because she had been drenched in the heavy rain, Maryam's body was shivering.
When Abaan noticed this, a faint smile appeared on his face. He quickened his pace, came close to her, and without saying a word, gently placed his coat over her shoulders.
Maryam was startled.
"This...?"
Smiling, Abaan said,
"Miss, sometimes even the victorious warriors lose a battle. You're completely soaked. Keep this coat—you can return it later."
He pointed toward the coat and then began walking away backward.
Maryam clenched her fists in annoyance, yet for some reason, she did not take the coat off.
At that very moment, Shameer was sitting on a sofa inside a beautiful villa, sipping tea. An elderly man, who had served the Mehar family faithfully for many years, was sitting across from him.
After taking a sip of tea, Shameer asked,
"Baba, tell me something... Does the Mehar family have any relatives who aren't wealthy?"
The old man immediately looked at him.
"What are you saying? Saying something like that is almost like accusing them. I know this family very well. Even their chefs come from respectable families. Madam Aizel has shown us great kindness."
Shameer remained silent for a few moments before saying,
"But Baba, today I saw something strange. Sir Abaan stepped out of his car in such heavy rain... just for that girl who was sitting at the bus stop, getting soaked."
Hearing this, the old man was stunned.
"Lower your voice!"
He immediately stood up.
"He is just like his mother. Madam Aizel could never bear to see anyone in pain. She was always helping others."
Shameer shook his head.
"No, Baba... it didn't seem like mere sympathy. There was something else."
The old man looked around nervously.
"Quiet! Don't let such words leave your mouth. And tell me... you didn't mention this to the Master, did you?"
"No. Why would I tell him?"
Shameer replied.
The old man let out a sigh of relief.
"Keep your mouth shut... and make sure the guards who were with him remain silent as well."
Placing a finger over his lips, Shameer smiled.
"Understood, Baba."
The old man took a deep breath.
"You shouldn't have left him alone like that..."
There was an unusual sense of worry in his voice.
"Now go. I have some work to do as well."
With that, he slowly walked inside.
It was five o'clock in the evening. The rain had stopped, but the sky was painted with shades of crimson. The cool breeze made the weather even more pleasant.
A large crowd had gathered outside Mehar Hotel. Two luxury cars arrived one after another and stopped in front of the main entrance.
Mehar Hotel was famous throughout the country for its magnificent architecture and unmatched beauty. Wealthy and influential people from all over the world considered it an honor to stay there. Its most remarkable feature was that it offered every modern luxury imaginable. Looking at its grandeur, one felt as though they had stepped into another world.
The moment the cars stopped, the bodyguards formed a protective circle around them.
Nosherwan stepped out of the first car, while a young man dressed in a fine suit got out of the second. His attractive personality instantly drew everyone's attention. He appeared to be about the same age as Nosherwan.
Just then, Liyana stepped out of the car as well. She was wearing a beautiful pink outfit, and her dark hair with golden highlights flowed gracefully in the cool breeze.
The three of them entered the hotel together, smiling and laughing, surrounded by their bodyguards.
The interior looked no less than a dream. Glass walls, magnificent chandeliers, and dazzling lights illuminated the entire place. They took the glass elevator to the top floor, where luxurious red carpets covered the hallway.
A grand door slowly opened.
Before them lay a vast, brilliantly lit hall.
At that very moment, Abaan walked toward them and said,
"Welcome to King Cloud."
With every step he took, his dignified presence became even more commanding.
Liyana's eyes unconsciously lingered on Abaan.
Jafar smiled, stepped forward, and warmly embraced Abaan.
"Oh! So, I've finally met the young businessman whose name I've heard so much about. I had heard of you many times, but this is the first time I've seen you since you grew up."
Nosherwan and Liyana also walked over to them.
Looking at Abaan, Jafar said,
"Nosherwan, your son truly takes after both of you. Aizel used to greet people with the same warmth and affection. She had a charm that was entirely her own."
Without missing a beat, Nosherwan smiled and changed the subject.
"Well, after all, he is my son. My blood runs through his veins."
As he spoke, he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Pride was evident in his voice.
A few moments later, everyone took their seats around a large dining table.
The table was covered with delicious dishes from around the world, elegant flowers, and the soft glow of luxurious crystal chandeliers, creating a truly royal atmosphere.
Looking around with admiration, Liyana smiled.
"This place feels like heaven to me. Everything here is so beautiful... absolutely perfect."
Her eyes unconsciously settled on Abaan, who sat quietly cutting the food on his plate with a knife and fork, as though nothing else in the room interested him.
Jafar lifted his glass filled with a refreshing drink.
"Cheers! To my beloved daughter, my dear friend, and our young businessman, Abaan... and to the success of this project!"
Nosherwan and Liyana raised their glasses and gently clinked them against his.
Abaan simply picked up his glass, raised it slightly without saying a word, and quietly placed it back on the table.
Even this silent gesture made him stand out from everyone else.
Liyana smiled as she watched him.
A few moments later, Abaan's mobile phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and said briefly,
"Excuse me."
He stood up from the table and walked toward a large glass window at one corner of the hall.
Standing there silently, he looked out over the glowing city lights.
Yet, no matter how dazzling the view before him was, the only image that kept appearing in his mind was Maryam's face... drenched in the rain.
Abaan was still thinking about his encounter with Maryam in the rain.
"What exactly happened to her that she seems to have no attachment to anything, yet she is working so hard? It must have been incredibly difficult for her."
He was so deeply lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize someone was standing behind him, watching him with a smile.
Liyana silently gazed at him with her beautiful eyes. Her smile made her look like a graceful model standing perfectly still.
She gently cleared her throat, breaking the silence.
Without even turning around, Abaan sensed that someone was there. Suddenly, he sneezed, as if the chill from the rain was finally beginning to affect him.
Liyana smiled mischievously.
"In Australia, there's a saying that if a wealthy man suddenly sneezes, there are only two possible reasons. Either he has worked extremely hard in the cold for his business... or..."
She paused with a playful smile.
"If I ever get the chance, I'll tell you the second reason too."
After saying that, she turned her gaze toward the window.
"Nice view."
"I've just brought them... Here you go, your hot kebabs!"
Maryam came running out of the kitchen carrying a plate of freshly cooked kebabs.
At the dining table sat a man of about forty years of age and a nineteen-year-old young man beside him. Both of them were smiling as they waited for her.
"Father, taste them and tell me... how are they?"
She placed the plate on the table and sat down.
Her father took a bite and smiled.
"They're delicious! Even today, the taste is exactly the same as it used to be."
The young man said while taking another bite,
"Big Sis, listen to me. Give up the idea of becoming a pharmacist. You should become a chef instead."
Maryam burst into laughter.
"I only know how to make kebabs."
She pointed at the kebab she was holding.
The laughter of the three of them echoed throughout the house.
"If only... this moment could last forever."
But reality always pulls a person back.
Suddenly, the alarm clock rang.
Bright sunlight streamed through the window and fell across her face.
Tears were flowing from her eyes.
She silently looked toward the window.
"Perhaps... today I've fallen apart once again."
At that very moment, the noise of people outside startled her.
She hurried out of the house.
A crowd had gathered outside ifrha's home.
People were talking among themselves, remembering the good qualities of the deceased.
Maryam made her way through the crowd and entered the house.
The moment she looked inside, it felt as though the ground had slipped beneath her feet.
Ifrha's father had passed away.
On one side, ifrha sat weeping uncontrollably.
Tears also began flowing from Maryam's eyes.
Perhaps he was the first person in the world who had believed in Maryam's honesty.
Time had made him addicted to alcohol, but he had never been a bad man at heart.
His greatest misfortune was simply that he was poor.
"Perhaps the greatest crime in this world is being poor. A rich person's crimes are often hidden beneath the weight of their wealth."
"Perhaps... I won't be able to say anything beyond this."
He remained silent for a few moments before speaking softly,
"People also say that a wealthy man cannot truly love because he can buy anything. But that isn't true. Love is the only thing that can neither be bought nor sold."
He took a deep breath.
"Money doesn't make a person rich. Finding true love is the greatest wealth of all. But... perhaps staying away from her is what's best for her."
He was sitting quietly inside a beautiful villa. Most of his time was spent painting.
Suddenly, he placed his hand over his heart, as if he had felt a slight pain in his chest.
Behind him, a young man was sitting silently on the sofa, waiting for his response.
"Sir... are you alright?"
"Yes... I'm perfectly fine."
He replied as he composed himself, then quickly stood up and went inside.
After he left, the young man rose from his seat and walked over to the paintings.
He observed them carefully for a while before saying with a faint smile,
"I like this one the most... It's exactly like everything I just heard. It felt as though it was all happening right in front of my eyes."
With those words, he also walked outside.
"Go to sleep... perhaps you'll meet him in your dreams."
Maryam said softly as she adjusted the blanket over ifrha.
A deep silence filled the house.
Cool breezes entered through the window in front of them.
Maryam stepped forward, closed the window, picked up her purse, and walked out of the house.
It had been two days since ifrha's father had passed away.
A cold, strong wind was blowing.
Maryam stood in a place where silence surrounded everything... where people slept an endless sleep.
She was standing before three graves.
Tears streamed continuously down her face.
The cold wind had turned her cheeks red.
She stood there silently, staring at the graves.
After placing fresh flowers upon them, she turned to leave.
Suddenly...
Abaan was standing right in front of her.
It had been several days since they had last met.
Maryam tried to ignore him and walked forward.
Abaan smiled faintly.
"What a coincidence..."
Then, looking up at the sky, he said,
"This place belongs to everyone. Anyone can meet anyone here... at any time."
Maryam replied quietly,
"Yes... but only those come here who have lost someone dear to them."
Abaan remained silent for a few moments before speaking.
"You're right. But some people also come here to meet those they've been searching for all over the world. They feel that perhaps by coming here, they'll be a little closer to the ones they love."
Changing the subject, Maryam asked,
"Are you going to the restaurant?"
Abaan smiled to himself.
"Are you going there today as well?"
"No."
She answered briefly.
"Okay."
Just then, the bus arrived.
Maryam boarded it.
Abaan looked at the bus in surprise.
"But... this is the bus that goes to the restaurant..."
he murmured to himself before quickly getting on as well.
Almost every seat on the bus was occupied.
Only Maryam was standing.
She looked at Abaan in surprise.
"Weren't you not going?"
Abaan stammered.
"Y-Yes... I mean... I was going later, but..."
Maryam immediately looked at her watch.
"But another bus will arrive in twenty minutes."
Abaan cleared his throat.
"Actually... I usually take this bus."
He was unsuccessfully trying to cover one lie with another.
At that very moment, the bus suddenly braked.
Abaan lost his balance and stumbled backward.
Everyone on the bus smiled.
Maryam could barely hold back her laughter.
A few moments later, the bus braked once again.
This time, Abaan stumbled directly toward Maryam.
Maryam immediately reached out to steady him.
But the moment Abaan's eyes fell upon the burn scars covering her hands, he froze for a brief moment.
"The stop is here."
Maryam said while avoiding his gaze, then stepped off the bus.
Aban silently followed her.
After walking a few steps, he spoke softly,
"Your heart may be as hard as stone... but your hands are incredibly soft... and always wounded."
Maryam stopped.
With a gentle smile, Abaan said,
"And forgive me, my dear future... I may be a little impatient, but I will never cross my limits."
As he spoke, he slowly put on his gloves.
Then, with the utmost care, he gently held Maryam's injured hand and guided her across the road.
Maryam could only stare at him in silent astonishment.