Rida was rocking Haya when Jibran entered and bolted the door behind him. He passed the milk bottle to Rida and called Hamza.
"Come here buddy. Let's wash your face."
Hamza ran towards him telling him a story animatedly.

A short while later, Hamza was washed and wearing clean clothes while Haya was sleeping in Rida's arms after her hunger subsided.

The doorbell rang and he said, "I will be back in a minute."

He went out to receive the food delivery and went in the kitchen to dish out the Niharee and Naan. For Hamza, he found the chicken and rice, Rida must had prepared earlier. He was sensitive to spicy food and Rida prepared different items for him which suited his young palate.

Couple of minutes later, he brought a food tray to his mother's room.
"Maa here, have some Niharee."

"Bahoo made this?" She asked even though she knew Rida didn't leave her sight for even a minute this whole time.

"No, I got it from a really famous place. You are going to love the flavour. I have always wanted to bring this for you." Jibran said as he lifted the lid off the pot.

Mrs Qadir smacked her lips looking at the scrumptious food in front of her. She was fond of spicy stews and traditional cuisine. She didn't need to be asked twice and indulge herself in the feast while Jibran went back to check Hamza and Haya.

Rida had fed Hamza and was now making him ready for bed. Jibran gave him a cup of chocolate milk as he read from his favourite bedtime storybook. Rida sat near Haya's cot and rocked her bed to help her ease in to sleep.

Half an hour later, they entered into their bedroom again. Mrs Qadir had retired to bed after enjoying the Niharee and warm milk. The kids were tucked into the beds sound asleep.

Rida went in first followed by Jibran who was holding a tray in his hands. He placed it on the coffee table and looked at his wife who was standing in the middle of the room feeling lost.