"A lie told often enough becomes the truth."

~ Vladimir Lenin

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The room fell silent as Ali finished reading the letter. The weight of Amira's words hung in the air, each sentence unraveling a layer of pain and desperation. Raiyyan and Samad exchanged glances, realizing the magnitude of the situation that had unfolded. Their eyes reflected a mix of guilt and concern.

Ali's face contorted with a range of emotions—anger, betrayal, confusion. He crumpled the letter in his hand, the frustration evident in his tightened grip. Raiyyan, attempting to diffuse the mounting tension, spoke up, "Ali, we didn't want it to come to this. We were trying to protect you from unnecessary pain."

Ali shot him a furious look, his voice sharp with resentment, "Protect me? By lying to me? By making a fool out of me? And now another drama! Where have you hid her now by placing this fake letter?" The pain in his eyes mirrored the shattered trust that now lay in ruins.

Samad intervened, his voice firm yet tinged with regret, "Ali, we thought it was the best way. Amira needed space, and you needed time. This letter is not planned or planted by us. We hope she is at the address Raiyyan asked her to go to. We didn't want you to suffer more or her."

"More?" Ali scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You don't get to decide what's best for me. You all knew she was here, and you let me suffer, thinking she had left willingly. What kind of family does that?"

Raiyyan tried to reason, "Ali, we were trying to make things right. We wanted you to realize her worth so that you both can live your life properly. Amira was not involved. She wanted to go back. She wanted all this to stop."

Ali's eyes bore into Raiyyan's, the sense of betrayal cutting deep. "And what about me? Was I not deserving of the truth? I searched for her like a madman, and you all stood there, pretending to help. How am I supposed to trust any of you now?"

Raiyyan, regret etched on his face, replied, "Ali, we're sorry. It was a tough decision, and we thought it was for the best. We should have been honest with you, but we were trying to protect everyone involved."

Ali, overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, turned and left the room. Raiyyan and Samad exchanged solemn glances, realizing the irreparable damage that had been done. The revelation had not only shattered the trust within them but had also set the stage for a confrontation that could alter the course of everyone's lives.

As Ali stormed out of the mansion, the echoes of Amira's departure resonated in the air.The tangled web of secrets had unraveled, exposing the raw vulnerabilities that lay beneath the surface, and now, each member of the family faced the challenge of navigating the aftermath.

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Raiyyan and Samad reached the address which they told her. It was Raiyyan's cousin's place. But she did not happen to be there. She never got there which made the two worry now. They got home to see a fight going on. They intervened.

"Sam, get Amira here. This boy can leave or do whatever she wants to. But she will live here, as my daughter!" Aabid instructed them with a warning.

"Papa, she left," Samad said, feeling responsible for this whole mess.

"Left? Where?" Raiyyan forwarded the note to Haya. She read it out loud.

"Another drama Raiyyan? Come on," Ali scoffed.

"We haven't had time to plan this. Aunty is here. Ask her. I called Amira and told her to go to my cousin's place. This letter has tears, Ali. And that shows how hurt she was about this. There was no time for me to tell her to write this letter. She wrote it, took her few dresses, books and left! We are clueless where she left. And if she wrote she won't harm herself then I am scared she will because it did cross her mind. Else she would not mention it," Raiyyan explained. Ali looked at Ayesha who nodded. Raiyyan had a tear of guilt. He was scared to lose her. He was the only sister he had who was with him sincerely. And they had a lot of memories made in the time they met. Ali fisted his hand. He wasn't sure what to believe.

"Ali our next was supposed to give you a clue about her university which you missed out on going to. But Ayesha without our knowledge blurted out everything today only."

"Dad, I am involving the police in this matter. We don't know how to reach out to her!" Samad stated, seeing near to no effect on Ali's face.

"You're old enough to do what you feel is right, Samad. I trusted you when you sent her with Raiyyan, I am trusting you now!" Aabid replied. His frowned forehead told the worry he was having for her. Samad left a slight nod.

"Wow, so when I was searching the unnecessary drama of the police was not needed. Now your fake search does?" Ali replied sarcastically towards his brother and father.

"Then we knew where she was. We would have wasted the time of the police. Now, she's actually missing and she can be in trouble, Ali. But don't worry. I am not expecting anything from you because you may be the best son, brother and friend but as a husband you suck. She cried for days because of what all you did. And no matter if we find her or not, my sister is never coming back in your life. Haya, go and pack up all the things you find from this guy's room!" Ali looked at Raiyyan with different emotions. Haya looked at both and then gave a small nod. She left for his room, followed by Jasmine whom Samad asked the same. Ali left for his room while Samad and Raiyyan left for the police station and Zain checked up at her parent's place in the hope that she went there.

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Haya and Jasmine were packing Amira's belongings, the room silent except for the occasional sounds of items being placed into boxes. Ayesha sat in the living room, her eyes reflecting the worry and helplessness she felt. Aabid, pacing back and forth, couldn't hide the concern etched on his face.

As Ali entered his room, he saw Haya and Jasmine packing Amira's things. The room, once filled with the shared essence of their lives, now felt like a deserted sanctuary of memories. Jasmine, folding Amira's clothes, shot Ali a cold look, her disapproval evident. Ali couldn't decipher the whirlwind of emotions within him—regret, anger, and a sense of emptiness.

He saw them going through every cabinet. That time he saw Jasmine taking the red saree out of his cabinet. She was about to put it in the box.

"Bhabhi, stop," Both looked at him. His eyes were fixed on that saree.

"What happened Ali?"

"Keep that Saree back!" Ali wass stern in his voice. Haya looked at it and recognized it. He took it from Jasmine. Haya got a faint smile due to it.

"It's Amira's saree. I Don't think you bought it for anyone," Jasmine said confused. She had never seen this saree before.

"I bought it with my own money. So it belongs to me!" He kept it back safely in his wardrobe.

"Bhai, you have feelings for Amira! Why do you deny it?" Haya enquired with a small smile, "I know what we all planned was wrong. But we didn't want to hurt you bhai. We just wanted to get you both closer. Get her back before it's too late. I have seen your feelings for her. Mostly that day, when that man was dancing with her and you were murdering him with your eyes! You were jealous of him. You were jealous that his hand was on her back and she was so close to him. And you did not do it for uncle!" Ali looked at Haya, shocked, who was only smiling. Jasmine was confused. Haya kept the last thing and left from there with her. Ali sat down on the bed, lost in his thoughts and confusion.

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Zain, meanwhile, faced the challenge of talking to Amira's parents. He knew the delicacy of the situation and approached it with a heavy heart. He hoped to gather any information that could lead them to Amira's whereabouts. However, it was of no help to them.

The police station was filled with a somber atmosphere as Samad and Raiyyan waited for updates on Amira's disappearance. Raiyyan couldn't shake off the guilt and fear that gripped him. He kept replaying the events in his mind, wondering if there was anything he could have done differently to prevent this. Samad, on the other hand, was determined to find Amira and bring her back safely. However, that wasn't of any big help either since Amira was 18 years old. They were left with no clues.

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Diary Entry - [12.09.23]

Dear Diary,

I may have taken the worst decision, but it was the best at that time. I find myself in the midst of uncertainty, a space where the echoes of shattered trust and broken promises linger in the air. The events of the past few days have left my world shattered, and as I sit on this cold, unforgiving pavement, I can't help but put my thoughts to paper.

The decision to leave was not an easy one, but it became inevitable to attempt to reclaim a semblance of control over my life. The streets have become my refuge, and the harsh reality of my circumstances is both stark and unforgiving. With every passing moment, I find myself grappling with the consequences of a tangled web of secrets and lies.

Leaving my phone behind was a calculated move, a deliberate choice to become untraceable. In a world where every step is monitored, I yearn for a moment of anonymity, a chance to rediscover who I am beyond the roles and expectations that have defined me. I am sure Samad and Raiyyan bhai would try to search me but I don't want to be found somewhere.

The few dresses I carry are more than mere fabric; they are a thread connecting me to a past that now seems distant and fractured. As the night unfolds, I'm left to my own devices, finding solace in the anonymity of the city lights and the rhythmic sounds of a life that carries on, indifferent to my struggles.

I said I found a place but I have to reach out. So here I am, under the stars, almost freezing if I hadn't worn these layers of dresses. I've often heard that the night is darkest before the dawn, and as I huddle against the chill, I cling to the hope that a new day will bring with it a fresh start. It's a naive belief, perhaps, but in this moment of vulnerability, it's all I have.

In the midst of this chaos, I am confronted with the harsh truth that the people I once called family, the ones I believed would stand by me, would never even like to be near me. The betrayal cuts deep, and the wounds are still fresh. I reached out to mama and papa, only to get wounds. One pair I wore is now all red in my room, mostly torn to pieces.

As I navigate this transient existence, I can't help but wonder if the path I've chosen will lead me to a place of healing or if I'm merely escaping one set of troubles for another. Only time will unveil the answers, and until then, I am but a wanderer on the unforgiving streets, seeking solace in the anonymity of the night. I hope tomorrow helps me get a new place to live.

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