____________________________________
"In history as in human life, regret does not bring back a lost moment and a thousand years will not recover something lost in a single hour."
— Stefan Zweig
____________________________________
SPORTS AREA — THE SETUP
Tahir arrived twenty-five minutes early.
The sports grounds were already overflowing.
Students poured into the stands from every direction, rushing for good seats before the final lawn tennis match began. Voices overlapped. Laughter echoed. Vendors shouted. School colors mixed together in restless waves.
To most people, it looked chaotic.
To Tahir, it looked predictable.
His eyes drifted across the court. The net. The seating arrangement. The position of the officials.
The sunlight.
The shadows. The distance between sections. The blind spots. The reflections. The exits. The entrances.
Every piece quietly slid into place inside his head.
⸻
"At exactly 3:07 PM…
those three seats will be perfect."
⸻
A tiny adjustment. A small reflection.
A carefully controlled chain reaction.
Nothing dramatic. Nothing obvious.
The best plans rarely were.
"Tahir!"
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
Salim approached, carrying a bottle of water. "You're early."
"Hmm." Tahir slipped his hands into his pockets. "Looking for a spot."
Salim glanced around. "This side?" He squinted toward the sunlight. "Too much sun."
Then pointed toward the larger crowd. "Why don't you sit with everyone else?"
"Too noisy." Tahir answered.
Salim laughed. "Fair enough."
For a moment they simply stood there watching students settle into their seats.
Then Salim spoke again. "Oh, heard you're in the basketball squad."
"Yeah well." Tahir shrugged. "Don't expect much."
"The Director thinks highly of you."
That earned the slightest reaction. Not visible to most people. But it was there.
A tiny pause.
A fraction longer than normal.
"He's rarely wrong." Salim scratched the back of his neck.
Then casually added: "Except about the Nine Shadows…"
His sentence stopped midway.
Almost like he'd caught himself.
"Actually forget I said that." He laughed awkwardly. Then walked away.
Tahir watched him disappear into the crowd.
Expressionless.
"Was he testing me?
Possibility One—A genuine slip.
Possibility Two—An intentional probe.
Possibility Three—Someone else sent him.
Possibility Four—The Director is watching.
Possibility Five—Double bluff.
The possibilities multiplied. Expanded. Collapsed. Discarded.
Eventually he let them go. Insufficient data. No point wasting energy.
His phone appeared in his hand. A quick message. Efficient. Precise.
"Plan B2 is set.
Execute in 1 hour 17 minutes.
Seat 79. Wing C.
Mirror attached.
Lay low."
Sent.
He approached the designated seat.
From his pocket came a tiny mirror.
Small enough to escape notice. Useful enough to alter outcomes. His movements were smooth. Natural. Unremarkable.
Anyone watching would assume he was adjusting the chair.
Nothing more.
Seconds later the mirror was secured beneath the seat. Invisible.
Tahir straightened. Looked once. Twice.
Perfect.
Then he walked away.
His intended seat waited several rows away.
Close enough to Afreen.
Not close enough to invite conversation.
His thumb brushed against the small remote hidden in his pocket. Testing. Confirming. Waiting.
"Afreen thought she'd cornered him earlier. Thought she'd forced him into a position. Thought she'd cleverly pressured him into helping MiMie.
The funny part?
She genuinely believed she was influencing events. She had no idea. This plan existed long before Afreen became part of the equation. Long before today's match.
Long before A.R.C's revenge campaign.
Everyone thought they were making moves.
Meanwhile—
they were already standing inside a game that had begun without them.
Whoever steps onto that court today…
Afreen.
A.R.C.
Anyone.
They're about to meet reality.
And reality is usually disappointing.
C.A.A will win."
Students continued gathering. The crowd thickened. Noise intensified.
Tahir casually counted rackets.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Good.
Everything remained on schedule.
"Tahir!"
He looked up.
Isham approached. Cheerful as always. Almost suspiciously cheerful.
"Don't worry." She sat beside him. "MiMie will be fine." She sighed, then continued. "Since she joined A.R.C last year, she had always beat us."
"Hmm." Tahir glanced toward the court. "I'm not worried. Actually…"
"Uh oh."She leaned closer. A smile appeared. Dangerous. Curious. Hungry.
The universal expression of a person seeking gossip.
"Can you tell me something?"
"Depends."
"About MiMie."
There it is.
"Your relationship confuses me."
Tahir nearly sighed.
'Mother of all gossip'. Huh ?
His eyes drifted toward the gathering crowd. Thinking. Choosing. Calculating.
A rumor doesn't need to be believable. It only needs to be interesting.
"Hmm. We were childhood friends."
Isham's eyes widened immediately.
Good. Continue.
"But she never forgave me." Tahir said
"What? Why?" Isham asked curiously.
Tahir looked away dramatically. Like a man haunted by terrible mistakes.
"Because she thinks I killed her cat."
Silence.
Then—
"YOU WHAT?!"
Several nearby students turned.
Tahir remained completely serious.
"How?" Isham asked.
Exactly the question he wanted. He stood. Checked his phone.
"Sorry." Then started walking away. "I have to meet someone."
"Tahir!"
No response. "Tahir, come back!"
Still walking.
"Tahir!"
He disappeared into the crowd.
Leaving Isham frozen in her seat.
Trying to determine whether MiMie's mysterious childhood friend had actually murdered a cat.
Or whether she'd just become the latest victim of his nonsense.
Either way—
the rumor was already alive.
And Tahir knew from experience:
People are far more creative than truth could ever be.
___________________
SADEEQAH'S POV — THE PULL
I saw him leave Isham. Not quickly. Not awkwardly. Not even intentionally.
He simply walked away.
Like he had tossed a spark into dry grass and left before the fire started.
Like whatever happened afterward wasn't his responsibility.
Like it never mattered.
Tahir.
I told myself not to watch him. I failed immediately.
My eyes followed him before I could stop them.
Every step. Every movement.
Every careless shift of his shoulders.
The crowd swallowed hundreds of students, yet somehow he stood apart from all of them.
Everyone else looked like they belonged here.
Tahir looked like he was passing through.
Detached. Untouchable.
Like he could disappear tomorrow and leave nothing behind except questions.
My stomach tightened. I hated that feeling.
Because I knew exactly what he was.
Dangerous. Manipulative. Cruel.
A liar.
Possibly worse.
And yet…
my heart kept reaching toward him anyway.
What's wrong with me?
I already had Jamal. A good person. An honest person. Someone who loves me openly. Someone who never played games.
Someone who never made me question where I stood.
That should have been enough.
It was enough. It should have been enough.
So why wasn't it?
I hated myself for even asking.
Ever since that video… Ever since the football match… Ever since the hallway…
Ever since I saw Jamil back away from him… Something had changed.
No.
That wasn't true.
Something had started changing long before that.
I just didn't want to admit it.
Because admitting it made me a terrible person.
Every time Tahir appeared… I noticed.
Every time he spoke… I listened.
Every time someone mentioned his name…
Part of me became curious.
Uninvited. Unwanted. Unforgivable.
I tried to look away. I really did.
My feet moved instead.
Before I realized what I was doing, I was already walking toward him. My pulse was hammering.
My chest felt tight. My thoughts felt scrambled.
What am I doing?
I didn't have an answer. Yet I kept moving.
I reached him just as he was heading toward Aysha Amad
"Tahir."
My voice came out softer than I intended.
Almost gentle.
He turned.
And suddenly I regretted everything.
Those blue eyes settled on me.
Calm. Cold. Observant. Not warm. Never warm.
Yet somehow that made them worse.
Because every time he looked at someone, it felt like he was seeing things they wanted hidden.
Things they barely understood themselves.
My heart skipped.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
"Hey," I said.
The smile I forced felt fragile. Weak. Transparent.
"Have you found a seat yet?"
"Hmm. Not yet." Tahir replied casually.
Just that. Nothing extra. Nothing encouraging. Nothing dismissive.
And somehow that made me even more nervous.
I swallowed. Hard. Say it. Just say it. I told myself.
"Why don't you sit with me?" I gestured toward the stands. "We could watch the tennis match together."
My throat suddenly felt dry. "Like we did during the football game."
A pause.
"It would be…" I hated how vulnerable I sounded. "…nice."
There.
The moment the words left my mouth, guilt slammed into me. Because I knew.
I knew exactly what this looked like.
Exactly what it meant. Exactly who it would hurt.
Jamal.
The thought felt like a knife twisting inside me. I wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to be asking this. I wasn't supposed to want this. But I did.
And that was the worst part.
Tahir stared at me. Just stared. No expression. No reaction.
Yet I could almost see the machinery turning behind his eyes. Calculating. Evaluating. Considering possibilities.
Is she baiting me? Is she interested?
Is she confused?
I could almost hear him thinking.
Then—
"Hmm." A small sigh. "Sorry."
The single word hit harder than it should have.
"I can't."
My smile almost cracked. "Oh."
"I've got things to take care of."Then he paused. "And…"
For the first time, something almost resembling kindness appeared in his voice.
"Jamal might misunderstand."
That was the one that hurt. Not because he rejected me. Because he understood.
He saw the line.
The same line I had been pretending didn't exist. The same line I was already drifting toward.
And unlike me…
he stepped away from it.
"I…" My voice faltered. "Yeah." I nodded too quickly. "Of course." Heat rushed into my face.
Embarrassment. Shame. Relief. Disappointment. All at once.
"I didn't mean…" I couldn't even finish.
Tahir simply nodded. Then walked past me. Just like that.
No lingering glance. No hesitation. No invitation. No cruelty.
Nothing.
And somehow that hurt more.
I stood there alone. Watching him disappear into the crowd.
Watching him walk toward Aysha. Watching him move further and further away.
My chest felt strangely heavy.
Because the truth finally settled over me.
The thing pulling me toward Tahir wasn't a crush. Not entirely. Not even mostly.
It was fascination. Danger. Curiosity.
The desire to understand something I wasn't meant to understand.
And maybe…
the desire to be understood by him.
Which was worse. Much worse.
I closed my eyes. I don't want to hurt Jamal.
The thought hurt. Because I knew it was true. But another truth existed beside it.
One I hated. One I wished would disappear.
Yet it remained.
I couldn't stop thinking about Tahir.
His eyes. His calm.
The way fear never seemed to touch him.
The way he walked through conflict like it belonged to someone else. Everyone else carried chains.
Family. Expectations. Reputation. Love. Fear.
Tahir seemed free of all of it.
And maybe that was the real reason he frightened me.
Because some small, selfish part of me wanted to know what that freedom felt like.
Even if it destroyed me.
_________________________
TAHIR & AYSHA — THE INTERRUPTED CALM
Tahir spotted Aysha Ahmad near the concession stand.
She was balancing two bottles of soda beneath one arm while trying to hold a packet of snacks with the other, her expression locked in the kind of fierce concentration people reserved for much more important tasks.
For the first time in what felt like hours, Tahir felt his shoulders loosen.
Good. Something normal.
Something that wasn't revenge.
Or secrets.
Or plans hidden beneath plans.
Just Aysha.
He slipped beside her right as she finished paying. "Hmm. You move fast."
Aysha nearly dropped everything.
She jerked toward him and glared.
"You're lucky I didn't spill all of this on your shoes."
"Hmm." His gaze dropped toward his shoes. "That would've been tragic."
"Tragic?" Aysha asked rhetorically.
"Yes."
"You're impossible." She added.
"Hmm. That's not what people usually call me."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Should I ask what they call you?"
"Probably not."
Aysha stared at him. Then laughed despite herself. "Yeah. Definitely not."
She shoved one of the soda bottles into his chest. "Here."
Tahir looked down. "Orange?"
"Surprise." Aysha said, sarcastically.
"Hmm." He inspected it critically. "Acceptable."
"Wow. High praise." Aysha smirked.
"Don't let it get to your head." Tahir said.
They began walking together.
Around them, the sports grounds buzzed with energy.
Students flooded the pathways. Teachers shouted instructions.
Announcements echoed from speakers.
Every few seconds another wave of cheers erupted from somewhere in the distance.
The entire campus felt alive.
But somehow, walking beside Aysha made it all feel quieter.
Simpler. For a little while.
Aysha twisted the cap off her soda.
Then glanced sideways at him.
"So."
That single word immediately made Tahir suspicious.
"Hmm."
"Why do I feel like people keep orbiting you today?" She asked
There it is.
"Gravity problem." Tahir replied.
Aysha nearly choked on her drink. "I'm serious."
"Hmm. So am I."
She ignored that. "First Isham was looking for you."
"One of the signs of the apocalypse." Tahir sarcastically said.
"Then Sadeeqah walked past me looking like she'd just lost a fight against her own thoughts."
Tahir remained silent.
"Then Jamal given you a death-stare."
Silence.
"And now you're acting like none of that is weird."
"Hmm." Tahir looked at her.
Aysha folded her arms. "What did you do?"
Tahir opened his soda.
The hiss of carbonation escaped between them.
"Hmm."He took a sip. "I existed."
Aysha stared. Then stared some more.
Then finally shook her head. "No."
"Hmm?" Tahir raised his eyebrows
"No normal human being causes that much chaos by existing."
"That's hurtful." Tahir said. With no expression on his face.
"Good."
"Hmm."Tahir sighed again.
"See? Even that. What does that noise even mean?"
"Depends."
"On what?" Aysha asked.
"Context."
Aysha groaned dramatically. "I swear talking to you is like interviewing a cryptid."
"Hmm." Tahir added.
"Stop doing that."
"Doing what?" Tahir asked.
"Being you."
"Can't." Tahir replied.
"Why?"
"Contractual obligations." Tahir gave a flat answer.
Aysha laughed again. And for a moment—
Just a moment— Neither of them talked.
The crowd continued moving around them.
The world continued spinning.
Tahir's eyes drifted across the stands automatically.
Seat 79.
Still empty. Good.
Everything remained on schedule.
Aysha noticed his attention shift.
Immediately. "You did it again."
"Hmm?"
"That thing." Aysha said
"What thing?"
"You disappeared."
Tahir blinked.
Aysha pointed directly at his face. "That."
"You lost me." Tahir said.
"No, you left." Aysha replied. Her voice softened. "You do that sometimes."
Tahir said nothing.
"You'll be standing right beside someone…". She looked ahead. "Then suddenly you're somewhere else."
The smile faded from her face. "Like you're carrying ten conversations nobody else can hear."
For a second, Tahir actually didn't know what to say. Which was rare. Dangerously rare. Fortunately, silence was his natural habitat.
"Hmm."
Aysha groaned. "There it is again."
"Worked, didn't it?" Tahir teased.
"Unfortunately."
They continued walking.
A whistle shrieked somewhere across the grounds. Signaling for final preparations.
Aysha took another drink.
Then spoke again. This time more quietly.
"Tahir."
"Hmm."
"Be honest with me." Dangerous request.
"Why?" Tahir asked curiously
"Because I'm asking."
He looked at her.
She wasn't smiling anymore.
That caught his attention.
"Are you getting into trouble again?"
There it is. Not curiosity. Concern. Real concern. The kind people rarely directed at him.
For a brief second, the noise around them seemed distant.
Muted.
Aysha was watching him carefully.
Waiting. Not for a joke. Not for sarcasm.
For honesty.
Tahir looked away first. Toward the stands. Toward the sky. Toward anything except those eyes.
"Hmm." His voice came out softer than usual. "If trouble comes looking for me…"
He shrugged. "I'll deal with it."
Aysha's eyebrows pulled together immediately. "That isn't an answer."
"It's the only one you'll get." Tahir responded immediately.
"Tahir—"
"Hmm."
"You know people are allowed to help you, right?"
The question landed oddly. Like a stone dropped into water.
He didn't answer. Because he genuinely didn't know how.
Aysha sighed. Slowly. Frustrated. "Tahir."
"Hmm."
"You're impossible."
"Yet you bought me soda." Tahir teased.
"I regret everything."
"Hmm."
"Don't push it."
They reached the edge of the seating area.
Aysha pointed toward an open row.
"I'm sitting there."
"Noted."
"You better not disappear again."
"Hmm."
A pause.
"I'll try."
Aysha studied him for a moment.
Then something flickered across her face.
Worry. Again.
"Tahir?"
He stopped.
"If you're planning something stupid…" She looked directly into his eyes. "Don't."
For the briefest moment—
Something almost human surfaced behind his usual detached expression. Gone before it could fully form.
"Hmm." His voice was quiet. "I never plan stupid things."
Aysha immediately snorted. "That sentence is exactly why I'm worried."
A tiny smile threatened to appear on Tahir's face. Almost.
"Fair."
"See?" She pointed triumphantly.
"You admitted it."
"Hmm."
"I'm counting that as a victory." Aysha said
"You would?."
"Absolutely." She added
Then she sat unto her sit.
Leaving him standing there. Soda cold against his palm.
The distant roar of the stadium filling the air.
Tahir watched her sitting there.
Longer than necessary.
Long enough to notice the strange feeling sitting quietly in his chest. Like how strong she is, even though she is still hurting from a heartbreak. Yet, she smiles genuinely.
He stood there, smirked and said to himself.
She is indeed going to be very useful next semester.
Tahir carefully sat next to her.
His hand slipped into his pocket.
The remote device was still there.
Cold.Precise. Predictable.
Unlike people. Unlike Aysha.
His gaze drifted toward the sky.
Clouds moved freely overhead.
Untouched. Unbound. Almost time.
Then he turned and followed her into the stands—
the soda cold in his hand,
the remote warm in his pocket,
and the next phase of his plan steadily counting down.
___________________
Back At The Clinic
Imran sat in darkness.
The janitor's closet smelled like bleach, dust, and damp mops.
A place meant for forgotten things.
Broken things.
Things people shoved out of sight because they didn't want to look at them.
For the first time in months… Imran felt like he belonged there.
His back rested against the wall as tears rolled silently down his face.
Outside, footsteps occasionally passed through the clinic lobby. Voices. Nurses. Students.Doors opening and closing.Life continued.
But inside the closet, time felt frozen.
His trembling fingers tightened around his phone.
Safeeyah. Safeeyah. Safeeyah.
Her name filled every corner of his mind.
His screen was covered in messages.
All sent. None answered.
_________________
"Please answer me."
"Please just hear me out."
"I can explain."
"The audio isn't what you think."
"Please don't do this."
"Please…"
_________________
Seen.
Seen.
Seen.
No reply.
Each blue tick felt like a knife sliding deeper into his chest.
And the worst part? He couldn't even blame her.
Because the moment she heard that recording…
He knew exactly how it sounded.
Exactly.
His voice. His confession. His words. His guilt. Everything.
The truth mixed together with lies so perfectly that even he would have believed it.
A shaky breath escaped him. Then another.
Then suddenly his shoulders began shaking. A sob escaped before he could stop it. His hands covered his face.
God…
"What have I done?"
________________
For months he had told himself a story.
A comfortable story. A convenient story.
He didn't love Safeeyah.
Not really.
He was only dating her because Tahir forced him. Because Tahir blackmailed him.
Because he had no choice. Because of fear.
Because of circumstances.
Because everything except the truth.
Because MiMie rejected him.
Now that he was about to lose her…
Now that he was about to lose Safeeyah…
The lie finally shattered. And underneath it… Was something terrifying.
He loved her.
He loved her so much it hurt.
His mind drifted. Not to MiMie. Not anymore.
To Safeeyah. Always Safeeyah.
The way she smiled whenever she spotted him in a crowd. The way her eyes brightened.
The way she'd wave enthusiastically even when they had seen each other ten minutes earlier.
The good morning texts. The stupid memes.
The late-night arguments. The weekends. The movies. The park. The basketball games.
The way she'd cheer louder than everyone else.
The way she'd brag about him to people.
The way she'd sit beside him in the Luv-Garden and talk about absolutely nothing for hours.
The way she'd laugh. The way she'd pout.
The way she'd look at him like he mattered.
Like he was special. Like he was worth loving.
_____________
Another sob escaped him. His chest felt hollow.
As if somebody had reached inside and grabbed his heart with both hands.
Pulling. Twisting. Tearing. Slowly. Mercilessly.
How did this happen? How?
How did everything go so wrong?
"I wish I never met Tahir."
The thought appeared instantly. Raw. Ugly. Desperate.
"I wish I never did it.
I wish I never gave him leverage.
I wish I never made that mistake.
I wish I could go back.
I wish I had a time machine.
I wish…"
His breathing became uneven.
He pressed his forehead against the closet door.
The wood felt cold. Grounding. Real. Unlike his life.
And then another fear arrived. The bigger fear.
The one lurking behind everything else.
A.R.C. Jamil. Malik. Umaymah. Afreen.
The Elite Champions. The entire school.
What happens if Safeeyah tells them?
What happens when everyone finds out?
What happens when they discover what I've done?
His stomach twisted violently.
Because suddenly… He understood MiMie.
For the first time.
Truly understood her.
The isolation. The whispers. The stares. The judgment. The loneliness.
He remembered standing among the crowd weeks ago.
Watching everyone turn against MiMie.
Watching her become the black sheep.
Watching her fall. Watching her suffer.
And doing nothing. Worse than nothing. Helping it happen.
Now karma had finally found him. Not running. Not chasing. Simply waiting. Patiently. For its turn.
And now it had wrapped both hands around his throat.
A notification appeared. Another message sent. Still nothing.
No response. No forgiveness. No rescue.
Forty minutes passed. Forty endless minutes.
He watched through the tiny crack in the closet door.
One by one. They left.
First Afreen.
Then Jamil. Then Malik.
Then several others.
Finally…
Umaymah.
The last one.
The hallway became quiet.
Imran stared at the door. His hand trembled. His legs felt weak. His chest hurt.
But he couldn't stay hidden forever.
Slowly…
He opened the closet. Stepped outside.
And walked toward Safeeyah's room.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
He reached the door. Raised his hand.
Knocked.
No answer. He opened it. Safeeyah looked up. The moment their eyes met…
Everything shattered.
Tears instantly flooded her eyes.
Fresh. Painful. Uncontrollable.
Her lips trembled. Words struggled to escape.
"Get…"
She swallowed.
"…out…"
Another tear rolled down her cheek.
"Go away…"
Then she broke.
"Leave."
Her voice cracked completely. "All this time…" A sob escaped. "…I loved you…"
Another.
"…trusted you…"
Imran felt his knees nearly buckle. He started crying too. "Safeeyah…"
His voice barely worked. "I love you too…"
Tears streamed down his face. "I am sorry…But the audio—"
"I don't want to hear it!" Safeeyah screamed.
The room shook with the force of it.
"Just get away from me!"
She pulled the pillow into her chest. Holding it like armor. Like protection.
Like the only thing stopping her from completely falling apart.
Imran took another step. "Listen…" His voice trembled. "Safeeyah… I admit…"
A painful breath. "I didn't love you at first."
The words seemed to stab her. He saw it happen. Saw the hurt. Saw the damage. But he kept going.
"But over the months…" His voice cracked.
"I fell in love with you."
Tears rolled freely. "I didn't even realize it."
Another sob.
"I was stupid."
"I was an idiot."
"I was being blackmailed."
"Please."
His voice became desperate.
"You have to believe me."
"I never wanted to hurt you."
"Liar!" Safeeyah screamed. The word hit harder than any punch. "You loved MiMie!"
"Not me!"
Imran shook his head violently. "No."
"I don't."
"I don't anymore."
His voice broke completely.
"I love you."
"Please…"
"Baby…"
Safeeyah looked away. As if seeing him physically hurt.
"Please…"
Her voice became smaller. Weaker.
"Get away from me."
"Leave me alone."
"I don't want to see you."
"Imran…"
The way she said his name… Destroyed him.
"Please. Don't dump me." His knees nearly gave out. "Don't exile me like you did Mimi."
Safeeyah flinched. Then tears poured even harder. "Leave."
Her voice cracked. "Or I'll call the nurses. They'll drag you out."
Silence.
For several seconds neither moved. Neither spoke. Both cried. Both breaking. Both drowning.
But only one of them had caused it.
Imran knew who.
Him.
Slowly… He turned around.
And left.
The moment he stepped outside the room…
It felt like somebody had buried a hook inside his chest. Attached a chain to it.
Then started pulling. Hard. Relentlessly.
His breathing became uneven. His vision blurred. His legs moved automatically.
One step. Then another. Then another.
The clinic disappeared behind him. Students passed. Voices echoed. Life continued. But Imran barely saw any of it.
All he could see was Safeeyah crying.
All he could hear was:
"You loved MiMie."
"Not me."
"Leave."
He wandered toward the academic wing. No destination. No purpose. Just pain. Tears continued falling. Unstoppable.
Like a lost child wandering through a forest.
Screaming for help. Begging for somebody to find him. To save him.
To tell him everything would be okay.
But nobody came.
Because whenever he looked ahead…
He saw only one figure.
"Tahir."
Standing above him. Watching. Smirking. Holding invisible strings. Turning lives into puppets.
And every time Imran tried to scream… To explain. To tell the truth.
A muzzle appeared over his mouth. His voice vanished. His future vanished.
And all he could hear…
Was Tahir laughing somewhere beyond the darkness.
While karma finally collected its debt.