She and Amna were sitting in the office when they saw Kayan entering. They both stood up to leave, but Kayan grabbed Hooreen's hand to stop her. Amna looked at Hooreen as if asking if she should take her along, but she left without a word. Kayan resided in Hooreen's soul; how could he not read the hidden message in her eyes? He was already hurt by her, and now he was hurt even more. Seeing Hooreen's tearful face, a pang of pain rose in his heart. Taking a deep breath, he spoke: "I am very bad. Every time, even without wanting to, I hurt you and become the cause of your pain. It's all my fault that even by staying so close to you, I couldn't make you realize my love, nor could I make a place for myself in your heart. Hooreen, why can't you see my love, my obsession, my madness...? Why can't you understand me...? I have failed in everything. For that reason, I am going to Murree for a few days for work, and from there I will go to Dad in Karachi. Away from you for a while...!"
Leaving his sentence unfinished, he squeezed his eyes shut as if to control the storm rising within him. At his words, Hooreen felt her heartbeat stop, yet she stood before Kaya,n appearing emotionless. "You look after all the school matters. If you feel like talking to me or if there is any problem, call me. I will wait for your call, and I will also wait for the day when you come to our home of your own accord. I will take that as your acceptance of our relationship. Before I go, I can at least have a hug, right?"
Kayan's words made Hooreen restless and angry. She looked at him in that state, and her eyes held a clear refusal, which hurt him further. But he was Kayan—when had he ever cared for Hooreen's refusal? He always listened to his heart. He stepped forward and pulled her tightly to his chest as if he wanted to absorb her into himself completely. His grip was firm, as if he never wanted to let go. "Kayan, you are hurting me."
At her words, Kayan snapped back to reality. He released her and turned to leave. Hooreen's gaze was fixed on his back. As he was leaving, Kayan turned around and saw her looking at him. He came back, placed his lips on hers, and after quenching his thirst, he pulled away and whispered in her ear in a hollow tone: "You also hurt me, Hoor."
His words struck her heart. Kayan left, but she stood there for a long time, staring at the spot where he had been. Many days passed. Kayan didn't call her once, while she unconsciously kept waiting for his call. She thought about Kayan all the time, as if he had cast a spell on her before leaving. She became sad again.
She was sitting in her room, looking at Kayan's picture on her mobile as if talking to it. Mr. Ilyas came to talk to her. He placed a hand on her head. Feeling his affectionate touch, she opened her eyes and fought back the tears that were ready to flow. She put the mobile aside. Mr. Ilyas noticed the phone and then looked at his beloved daughter, who was sitting lost in thought. He knew the state of her heart. He sat beside her, and Hooreen hid in his embrace, resting her head on his chest. In a tearful voice, she asked: "Papa, if you feel someone's absence very intensely every moment, and you keep waiting for them against your will, what does that mean...?"
He smiled at her innocent manner and said, "It means that you cannot live even for a moment without that person because you love them very much. That is why their absence is felt so deeply. Just as my daughter is feeling someone's absence right now, even while being with her Papa."
At this revelation, a tear fell from Hooreen's eye, but her lips also curved into a smile. The answers she had been searching for for days had been given by her father in an instant. "Papa... he didn't call even once...!"
Tears began to flow continuously. He explained to her affectionately, "If he didn't call, then you call him."
"No Papa, I will absolutely not call since he didn't call even once... he didn't even call to ask how I was... he has forgotten me...!"
She spoke while shaking her head. He smiled mischievously and said, "It's nothing like that, Hoor... no one has forgotten you. His call comes every little while to ask how you are, what you ate, and what you are doing. Believe me, I'm quite tired of his calls, which is why now all the information is being taken from your Mama."
She was stunned to hear that. The restlessness and grief in her heart vanished, but now, along with being angry with Kayan, she was more upset than before. However, hearing about Haleema Begum made her afraid because she hadn't told her anything. She feared they would become distant again. "So Mama knows everything...?" she asked fearfully. Before he could say anything, Haleema Begum entered the room with a glass of milk. "Come on, be a good girl, drink the milk quickly, and go to sleep. It's very late. You have to wake up early tomorrow for the trip."
"Mama, not yet. I'm talking to Papa right now."
She spoke affectionately. Mr. Ilyas said: "Enough talk for now, go to sleep or you'll be late."
It was the 10th-grade farewell, and it was decided that instead of a party, they would be taken on a trip to Islamabad. She didn't intend to go, but she was going only because of Amna. She knew very well that, like every time, the principal and her favorites would surely do something, but this time she couldn't allow any injustice regarding the children's trip and the money. For this reason, she had agreed.
"Papa, but our talk is unfinished. I want to tell you everything."
She spoke in a whisper. "Beta, we will talk about this after you return from your trip. For now, drink your milk and sleep."
Hearing Mr. Ilyas's words, she nodded in understanding. They both said goodnight and went to their room. "Kayan, you asked everyone else about me but didn't call me... You didn't even think it was worthy to talk to me...? Fine, now I won't tell you about coming to Islamabad either, nor will I let you find out. I will come back from so close to you without bringing it to your knowledge."
She spoke to Kayan's picture with an angry yet determined tone, unaware that perhaps she might never be able to return. Haleema Begum sat on the bed in her room, clearly lost in deep thought. Seeing her like this, Mr. Ilyas placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "What is it, Begum? Why are you worried?"
"Just as you understand your daughter's unspoken words, you also know about me. You know what could be worrying me."
While he was smiling at her words, his smile vanished at her last sentence and was replaced by an expression of hardness. He spoke in a very stern tone: "Begum, I have forbidden you a thousand times from letting such negative thoughts enter your heart and mind. Nothing will happen to my Hooreen."
She was getting ready when her mother brought the phone to her and said: "Hooreen, this is Kayan calling. Talk to him; he says your number is switched off and he's been calling for a long time."
Haleema Begum extended the phone toward her, but Hooreen, in her anger, didn't take it. Instead, she spoke loudly so Kayan could hear: "Mama, I don't want to talk to anyone. When no one bothered about me for so long, why should I talk now? And besides, if there's no one to talk to, what's the point of keeping the phone on?"
Haleema Begum glared at her with provocation, but Hooreen ignored her and began gathering her things. Her mother spoke again: "Hooreen, this is not right. One doesn't speak like that—he is your cousin. I am leaving the phone here; talk to him."
There was a clear warning in her tone as she left. Hooreen had told Mr. Ilyas first thing in the morning not to tell Kayan about her trip, and had told her mother the same. After her mother left, she put the phone to her ear and spoke in a biting tone: "Yes, please speak. So, you finally remembered there's someone behind you that you need to call? Well, I don't want to talk to anyone right now. I'm getting late for school. Allah Hafiz."
She hung up immediately. On the other end, Kayan stared at his mobile, bewildered. Then, realizing the situation, he let out a loud laugh. Imagining Hooreen, he spoke: "Oh-ho! So Mrs. Kayan is missing me. It seems I'll have to grant my wife the honor of a meeting now."
In Islamabad, they first visited the Faisal Mosque. After prayers, she raised her hands for a supplication, and a cry rose from her heart: "O Allah, have mercy. My heart is very restless; it finds no peace. I am surrounded by such conflict. My Lord, grant my heart tranquility. You know better what is right and wrong for me. Save me from taking any wrong decisions. In the eyes of all these people, my character is suspicious. Even being in the right, I am wrong in their eyes, and I don't have the courage to tell anyone the truth or face it myself. Save me from being humiliated before everyone. Surely, You grant honor to whom You will and humiliate whom You will. But save me from disgrace. Ameen…"
Afterward, they left for the hotel where they were supposed to stay. Upon arrival, they discovered that Samara hadn't confirmed the booking. Consequently, they had no reservation and the hotel was full. Hotels were very crowded those days. they checked four or five other places, but in vain—everything was full, and the rooms available were far too expensive. Therefore, the Principal, Samara, and Mahjabeen decided they would stay in the coach overnight. If they returned, they would have to refund the heavy amount they had taken from the students under the guise of the trip—an amount that was more than necessary. Hooreen grew worried because there were young girls with them and she didn't want to take any risks. Although she had left everything to them, when they failed to handle the matter, she was forced to speak up:
"Ma'am! It isn't right to spend the night in a vehicle, especially when there are girls and female teachers with us. Either arrange a safe place or take the trip back from here."
"Oh lady! If we take the trip back, we'll have to refund everyone's payments, which we cannot do. And hotels are out of our budget," Ma'am Nafisa said irritably.
"But Ma'am, how can we stay in a vehicle like this…?"
"Aren't you talking a bit too much…? If you're so concerned, then you arrange a hotel or a safe place."
Samara spoke sarcastically, and Amna replied in the same tone: "That is your job, not ours. You should have done pre-planning before coming."
"If it's our job, then fine, everyone will stay in the coach. Whoever has a problem can arrange it themselves."
Hearing Mahjabeen, Amna was about to argue further, but Hooreen took her hand and stepped aside, checking her phone's contact list. Seeing this, Amna couldn't help but ask: "What are you doing, Hooreen…?"
"Nothing, just arranging a safe place…"
After answering Amna, she dialed the required number and put one earbud in Amna's ear and one in her own. She remembered clearly that Kayan, while giving her the phone, told her that it contained the numbers for Waleed and the house caretaker. She made the call, but didn't know where to start.
On the other end, Waleed answered respectfully: "Assalam-o-Alaikum! Hooreen Ma'am, how are you…?"
Hooreen was surprised by his recognition and said, "How do you know I'm the one calling you…?"
"Ma'am! We all have your number, and everyone knows you. Sir has strictly instructed us that whenever you call, we must fulfill your every command. Command us, Ma'am…"
At this, Amna looked at Hooreen playfully, and Hooreen glared back. Hooreen was surprised too, but composed herself. "Where is your boss…?"
She asked immediately and received the reply: "Ma'am! Sir has been in Murree for work for three weeks,s and his stay there is for another two weeks."
She breathed a sigh of relief and spoke authoritatively: "I am in Islamabad near Faisal Mosque with a school trip. We were supposed to stay at a hotel, but didn't get rooms, so everyone will come to the house with me. I don't know the way, so send a driver to guide us to the house. And yes, have the rooms prepared and arrange dinner by the time we arrive."
"Ma'am! I'll come myself. I'll be there in a short while."
She ended the call and looked at Amna, who was staring at her with her mouth open in shock and joy. Hooreen started laughing; for a moment, she was shocked at her own boldness.