1st August, 2018

With slow, deliberate steps, Shumail made his way through the graveyard. The cool morning breeze tousled his hair, and the sky above was painted in soft hues of lavender and gold. As he neared the two graves lying side by side, a familiar ache took hold of his heart.

He knelt down, his fingers gently spreading rose petals over the graves. With careful reverence, he sprinkled rosewater before sitting at the foot of the resting place of his beloved parents.

"Assalamualaikum, Ammi. Assalamualaikum, Abbu," he said softly. "I miss you every day, but today—today it hurts a little more."

He paused, letting the silence stretch between them.

"Very good, Abbu," he said with a half-smile, brushing away a tear. "You loved Ammi so much you left me all alone just to find her in the hereafter, huh? Typical romantic."

A shaky chuckle escaped his lips. "Ammi, you're lucky. You've got him again. I pray you two are together in Jannah, happy as ever. Aameen, ya Rabb."

He raised his hands, murmuring heartfelt duas with a bowed head, the sincerity in his voice echoing across the still cemetery. When he finally stood, he placed one last kiss on the gravestone before whispering a final goodbye.

As he exited the graveyard, the morning had fully blossomed. The sun rose like a golden promise, birds filled the sky with cheerful song, and children's laughter echoed from a nearby playground. Shumail stopped, watching them from the gate, his lips curling into a nostalgic smile.

How simple life was back then.

A sigh escaped him as he resumed his walk. Twenty minutes later, he turned into a familiar street—the neighborhood he grew up in, filled with memories both bitter and sweet.

The gates of the Ibrahim mansion loomed ahead, grand and imposing. The guard opened them with a nod of recognition.

"Welcome home, sir."

Shumail gave a polite nod and made his way inside. He reached into his kameez pocket, retrieved the key, and unlocked the heavy door. A familiar silence greeted him—peaceful yet lonely.

"Good morning, Sir," Robin, his loyal housekeeper, said, appearing from the hallway. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Morning, Robin. Not really hungry. Carry on with your chores."

Robin gave a brief nod and disappeared. Shumail ascended the stairs to his room. At some point, sleep stole over him. He awoke hours later, curled awkwardly on the couch, hugging a pillow as if seeking comfort in its softness.

A sharp knock on the door roused him further.

"Come in."

Robin entered, looking hesitant. "Sir, there's a guest waiting."

Shumail groaned softly. "Robin, you know I don't like company today."

"I'm sorry, sir... but it's your aunt, Safia."

At the mention of her name, his entire demeanor shifted. His jaw tightened, hands fisting by his side.

"Tell her I'll be down in a few minutes," he said, turning to gaze out the window. The cold wind slipped through the glass, but he stood unmoved.

Minutes later, dressed in a crisp navy kurta, he walked down the stairs. Halfway down, he spotted her.

Safia stood in the living room like she owned it—draped in a designer dress, scarf knotted fashionably around her neck, diamond earrings flashing with every movement. Even her perfume screamed excess.

As he stepped onto the last stair, she turned.

"Shumail, darling! So good to see you."

He halted just as she moved to hug him. Taking a polite step back, he nodded curtly.

"Assalamualaikum, Aunt Safia."

"Ah, still using the same dusty religious greetings, I see," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"This 'dusty greeting' has more meaning than all your fake air-kisses combined. But my mistake—I forgot who I was talking to."

She chuckled coldly. "Same old sharp tongue."

"Same old selfish guest. What brings you here? Surely not motherly concern."

"Can't I visit my dear nephew without an agenda?" she asked, feigning hurt.

He gave her a flat look.

"Fine, straight to the point then," she snapped, pulling out a file from her overpriced handbag. "Sign these and I promise you won't see my face again."

"As tempting as that sounds, you know I'm not signing anything. Especially not from you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Then I'll take this matter to court. Don't test me."

Shumail didn't flinch. "Robin!" he called. The servant appeared instantly. "Fetch the white envelope from the second drawer in my desk."

Robin returned with it moments later. Shumail pulled out a set of documents and began reading aloud.

"Page 2, Section 14. 'I hereby declare my son the sole heir of the Ibrahim Estate, and grant him full authority over all estate matters.'" He handed her the papers. "See for yourself."

Safia snatched them, scanned the page, her expression darkening.

"You know," Shumail said calmly, "even though Dad left everything to me, I still gave you your share. I even wrote you cheques when you asked. But throwing that money at endless parties? That's not my fault."

"You're doing this out of spite!" she hissed.

"No. I'm doing this because your greed disgusts me."

Her voice rose in a shrill pitch. "You'll regret this! You'll pay for turning your back on me."

"No," he said coldly, "I'm just done being manipulated."

With a dramatic toss, she flung the papers into the air and stormed out, her heels clicking furiously against the marble floor.

Shumail let out a breath and crouched to collect the papers. Once done, he walked back to his room, placed the envelope back in its drawer, and his gaze fell on a framed picture of his parents.

"I tried, Dad. I really did."

He sat for a long time, the image of his aunt's twisted expression still lingering in his mind. Later that night, Shumail found himself on the balcony, wrapped in a shawl, hugging a pillow to his chest as he gazed at the stars.

His stomach growled.

Oh right... haven't eaten all day.

He wandered into the kitchen, only to be met with rows of canned food and instant noodles.

"Seriously?" he muttered, wrinkling his nose. "I'm rich but malnourished."

He pulled out his phone and called Shahmeer.

"Yo. You alive?" came Shahmeer's voice.

"Barely. Can you... bring food? Even Khichdi would do."

"I'm on it. Thirty minutes tops."

"Thanks, man."

"You thanking me now? Wow. Hunger really humbles a man."

Exactly half an hour later, the front door burst open.

"I knew it! We're your backup emergency contacts!" Aahil announced dramatically as he stepped in, holding a tiffin.

"Malai Chicken Pulao, hot and heavenly," he added.

"Butter Chicken from my mom," Shahmeer said, raising his tiffin.

"Chilli rice. Extra gravy. You're welcome," Zaid chimed in.

Shumail blinked, overwhelmed. "You guys didn't have to—"

"Oh please," Aahil interrupted. "You looked like you were ready to gnaw on drywall."

Shumail laughed, a little too emotionally. "I'm seriously lucky to have you all."

"Yeah, yeah, no tears. Save it for after dessert." Shahmeer ruffled his hair.

They all sat around the dining table, chatting and teasing each other while digging into the delicious food. For a while, the burdens in Shumail's heart felt lighter.

After dinner, Shahmeer and Shumail washed the dishes in companionable silence.

"So, what's really going on?" Shahmeer asked, drying his hands.

"Aunt Safia came over. Same demands. Same threats."

"She never gives up, does she?"

"Nope. This time she threatened court. I gave her a solid reality check."

Shahmeer snorted. "That must've stung."

"She deserved worse, but I kept it civil."

"Proud of you," Shahmeer said, patting his back.

Later, they all sprawled across mattresses in front of the TV.

"Movie time!" Zaid announced, popping a bowl of buttery popcorn onto the floor.

"Horror tonight?" Aahil grinned.

"Let's traumatize ourselves. Play Polaroid," Shumail suggested.

As the opening scene played, they exchanged glances—mock bravado already cracking.

"You guys scream, I'm recording it for evidence," Aahil warned.

"Try me," Shahmeer shot back. "I only scream in subtitles."

They laughed, the kind of laughter that lingers long after the jokes are over. In that moment, Shumail realized that no matter what storm came his way, he had an anchor.

Not in wealth. Not in inheritance. But in the unwavering loyalty of three brothers not bound by blood, but something stronger—choice.

Woah!

First chap!

Aaayyyiii I'm so excited to begin the journey of this story.... :D

So lemme know how was the chap...??

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