Two years later
"What is my name?" His voice, dark, as he directed the question to the shivering soul. His men surrounding him. The cold weather of the States made him wear black long-coat, underneath which he wore, black pants and shirt. And his hands stuffed in his pockets, were covered with gloves. Black gloves. Which he usually wore whenever he'd go to such missions.
"Ha-haseeb... Haroon... S-syed," the man, on his knees, answered.
"Good," he sat down.
"Now tell me where is she?" he asked.
"I...I don't know...sir,"
And it was the last nail in the coffin as he lost patience. He shrieked out of annoyance and the gun which was in his grasp came down to that man's temple, making blood gush out of his forehead as he fell back.
"Where the fuck is she?" he asked again, widening his eyes.
The man couldn't utter a word as he laid there, shivering.
He shook his head to himself before squatting down to his level. His fingers threaded in that man's hair as he made him sit. Boring his eyes in him, he asked, "Alright. I'll change the question. Who helped her escape?"
The man again remained quiet. Looking at him with fear.
"Or shall I issue orders of killing your family?"
"No! No! Sir! Please no!" he cried out.
"Who?" he asked. "Was it Dada?" Haseeb asked.
(Grandpa)
And Jamal slowly nodded. "It was him,"
....
It had been a month since his last visit to Pakistan after his grandfather's demise. And that last visit too was after two years. He wouldn't have visited Pakistan if it wasn't for his grandfather. At the funeral, he thought that Dua might come back atleast to bid farewell to her grandfather but she didn't. His mother also told him that Shehryaar found Sheharzaad atlast.
His cousin brother had been suffering from the pain of separation from his beloved for last five years. And atlast those painful moments came to an end making his beloved reach in his arms but what about him.... his beloved?
It has been two years.
But still there was no clue.
Nothing.
He couldn't find her despite going to every length.
All he came to knew was that she left for Dubai and then from Dubai she went to the States. So he went to US and developed his connections there while handling the business as well. He reformed his connections with Americans in helping him find Dua. And after years of struggle, he atlast got his hand on a clue. The person who helped her escape. Jamal Chandio. One of the oldest servants of the haveli and a comrade of his grandfather as well.
Haseeb located him by going through the records of the old servants of the haveli and where they currently resided. Because he was aware that Dua must have needed help and someone close must have given her this strong protection that they still were not able to locate her. Someone close was involved. And probably it could be a servant. Jamal lived in US. Prior he lived with Agha in Pakistan. Rather he moved to US the same year when Dua escaped. He was also a comrade of his grandfather. This rose this gut feeling within him that his grandfather might be involved in Dua's escape. But why?
He managed to locate Jamal. His age 53 and worked at a petrol station. But the rent of the place where he lived was higher than his salary. It put Jamal under Haseeb's suspicion. And he managed to abduct him.
Only to get confirmed that his grandfather did have a hand in all of this.
On further investigation, Jamal uttered the truth that Dua had left the US an year back and had gone to London. Haseeb took Jamal in his captivity and ordered his men to depot him to Pakistan. He will join them soon after finding Dua.
London was his sanctuary. He had established himself over there already. His connections resided there. So locating Dua in London wasn't a difficult task for him.
And atlast she did...
She did...
....
Her family was with her all the time. In her memories. Despite being away, every night, before sleeping, she would recall the moments she spent with them.
Haseeb.
Haya.
Zahra.
Both her brothers, Irtaza and Shehryaar.
Her father, uncle and aunts.
Little Alizey as well.
And whenever Sheharzaad picture would come in her mind, there would be nothing but regret. She killed her nephew with her own hands. To this date, she regretted it. Deeply regretted it. For not thinking properly, not letting her sane thoughts surface.
She really wished, she could call her atleast and beg for forgiveness but she had no contact with her.
Out of all the people she remembered, the most she missed was her mother.
Her innocent mother.
Oppressed mother, rather.
After what Dua did with Sheharzaad, to some extent, she now was able to understand what her mother had been through. What made her do what she did. What she had been through to reach that decision.
Reading that last letter which she left for them, the words were still engraved in her memory and it still brought tears to her eyes.
After decades, she had read her mother's last words to her children while standing in her grandfather's study in the quiet night when everybody slept.
She still remember that night. When haveli was excited for Haseeb and Dua's marriage. But she wasn't ready. She didn't want to marry Haseeb. Partly due to the way his eyes had gotten intense whenever he would stare at her. Haseeb had changed. After stepping into the mafia's world, after being under the shade of her brothers, he had changed.
And she had felt it when he came back to take her from the residence when she was house arrested because of her brother's order. His voice was soft but she was seeing the flames of the dark world slowly igniting in his eyes. It was the moment she knew, Haseeb would change. Rather he was changing since the darkness of mafia was slowly taking over him.
She thought of the crimes she committed. She had married someone before and she knew, if Haseeb would become the mafia man he was becoming then there will be consequences. Severe consequences of her past actions. It scared her. It did scare her from Haseeb that she decided not to marry him for which she sought help from Zahra.
To enjoy the wedding festivities, her grandfather's friend, Agha Hassan also came to the haveli and that too a month ago.
The haveli was sleeping when her dry throat and empty jug of water made her stand, leave her room and go to the kitchen to fetch herself water.
'Jaha Ara'
This word had suddenly caught her attention while passing through her grandfather's room. And she stopped.
"Her last letter... is it still with you?"
It was Agha's voice and she slowly stepped closer to the door.
Last letter? She thought
Her mother wrote a letter?
"It is," his grandfather responded.
"I sometimes see Jaha Ara in Dua. Do you, Shabbir?"
"She is her daughter,"
"Tell me something new," Agha scoffed, "Haroon knows, doesn't he?"
"I took a promise from him.... not to utter the truth until I die,"
"Where is that letter, Shabbir?"
"I've kept it safe,"
"Why you did not burn it?"
"Because.... I want them to know one day that how bad was I. It's not the time yet, Agha."
"But where is the letter,"
At this, she hear footsteps and she assumed that her grandfather unlocked his locker, retrieving the letter which they were talking about.
"Here is it. Do you want to read it, Agha?"
"I want to,"
"Do you've her medical reports?" Agha asked after a few minutes as if he was reading the letter.
"I have,"
"Burn it,"
"No, Agha. After I die, I want my family to know the truth. I want Irtaza and Shehryaar to know the truth. But now is not the time. They will know that their mother was the victim and I the culprit,"
"I understand you, Shabbir,"
"Have you not yet killed him?" Her grandfather asked.
"Who?"
"The man who.... who...forced himself on Jaha Ara,"
"I haven't. He has done alot for me. He was your comrade earlier but now mine,"
"Hmmm. Alright,"
Heartbroken Dua overheard everything and next she stepped in his office. Her eyes was already shedding tears as they quickly landed on the white sheet of rusty paper on the table. She immediately lurched for it. With shivering hands, she took it, unfolded it and slowly read it.
Her lower jaw shivered as she read everything carefully.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
And the more she read, the more she shivered and the more tears propelled out of her eyes. As both Shabbir and Agha who now stood, exchanged glances with each other.
"I... hate you, Dada," Was all she could utter as she looked up at him.
(Grandpa)
"Daughter," he tried coming closer when she raised her hand, stopping him from coming closer.
"Don't you dare,"
"Don't tell anyone about it. Not yet, Dua. Not yet,"
Not yet...
In that moment, even Dua had to surrender infront of him. And her emotionally weakened state made her surrender. And they had her escaped from the haveli the same night... with Jamal. Who was earlier comrade of Shabbir Haider and now of Agha Hassan.
The same man.... who raped Jaha Ara.