Aliya's mind was screaming. Her heart was beating so fast that she felt it in her throat. She did not even remember walking up the huge staircase. She was just suddenly at Zainab's door, her hand gripping the pregnancy test kit so tightly the plastic felt like it might break.
She did not knock. She pushed the door open so hard it slammed against the wall. The room was quiet and peaceful. Zainab was sleeping deeply in her soft bed, looking like a child. Seeing her daughter looking so peaceful, while holding this terrible secret in her hand, made Aliya's anger explode. She walked quickly to the bed and shook Zainab's shoulder, not softly, "Zainab! Wake up! Now!"
Zainab's eyes flew open. She was confused, still half in her dreams. "Mom? What happened? It's too early—"
Aliya held up the pregnancy kit right in front of her face, "Is. This. Yours?"
Zainab's eyes widened. She was suddenly, completely awake. She had used it yesterday morning. She had been so scared, she hid it in the small trash bin in her bathroom. How could she be so stupid Zainab?? She meant to throw it somewhere but she forgot. Now, the one person she never wanted to know was standing over her.
"Answer me!"
Zainab pushed herself up in the bed, her whole body trembling. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, trying to hide. Tears filled her eyes immediately, "Mom… please. Please, let me explain. I can explain…"
"Explain what, Zainab? Explain how my daughter, the one I have hidden from the whole world to keep safe, is pregnant? You are only seventeen! You are still a child! You have your whole life ahead of you! What have you done? What have you thrown away? How could you be so careless? Do you understand what this means?"
Zainab wiped her tears quickly with the back of her hand, "Mom, please… listen to me. I'm scared too. I didn't do anything wrong on purpose. I—"
"Who was it? Tell me his name right now! Who is the boy who did this to you?"
"I can't!" Zainab cried, shaking her head back and forth. "I can't tell you! Please, don't ask his name."
"I WILL ask! I need to know who touched my daughter. Who is responsible? WHO?" Aliya stared at her like she didn't know her daughter anymore. "You slept with someone and you don't want to tell me who? You think this is a game? Your brother will make you talk. I am calling Ibrahim this second."
"NO!" Zainab screamed. She grabbed her mother's arm, "Don't tell Ibi! Mom, please, you can't! If he finds out… he will find him… and he will kill him! And then… the way he will look at me… it will kill me too! It will! Please, don't!"
The moment the words left her mouth, Aliya's hand flew across her face.
SLAP.
The sound echoed through the room.
Zainab gasped and held her cheek. Finger-shaped red marks began to appear immediately.
"Ibrahim needs to know! He is the only one who can handle this mess you've created!"
Aliya tried calling Ibrahim again and again. Once… twice… ten times. Every time she pressed his name, the same cold voice repeated, "The number you are trying to reach is switched off."
She kept redialling, pacing from one corner of the room to the other. And in between each failed call, she turned to Zainab and asked the same question, "Who is that man?"
But Zainab didn't reply even once. She just sat on the edge of her bed, knees pulled close, crying non-stop.
Seeing that she would get no answers about the man, Aliya switched her line of questioning, "Zainab. Look at me. When was your last period?"
"… I… I think… five months ago."
"Five months? Zainab, look at what you are saying! For five months, a life has been growing inside you, and you noticed nothing? You felt no responsibility to confide in me, when your body was screaming that something was changed?"
"My cycle has never been regular! You know that! It's always been late! I thought it was the stress of my final exams! I didn't think… I never imagined…"
"You never felt anything? Any sickness? Any fatigue? Food aversions? A woman's body sends signals! Did you not feel a single one? No nausea in the mornings?"
"I… I just thought I had a weak stomach. For the past few months, sometimes after breakfast… I would feel a wave of sickness. But it would pass if I drank some water or took a digestif. I thought it was the rich food, or acidity… I never felt it was… this."
Aliya brought a hand to her forehead. She knew very well that every woman's body works differently during pregnancy. Some women start getting symptoms very early—morning vomiting, tiredness, dizziness, strange cravings.
But there are others who barely get any signs at all. No vomiting, no weakness, nothing that makes them feel something is wrong. Sometimes the symptoms come so late that even the woman herself doesn't realize she's pregnant until the belly starts showing.
Zainab fell into that second group. She had always been slim, the kind of girl whose weight didn't change much. Her belly hadn't started to show clearly yet either. Some women begin showing very early, while others stay flat until the fifth month. Especially slim girls like Zainab—it's common for their baby bump to appear late. But now, around 20 weeks, her body would start changing soon. The signs she ignored earlier would become impossible to hide.
Everything blended into her normal life… until the test.
And now the truth was too big to hide.
After almost one hour, the bedroom door opened and Ibrahim entered with Samir behind him. Both brothers stopped the moment they saw Zainab. Her face was streaked with tears, and a clear red handprint was visible on her cheek.
Their expressions changed immediately—shock, confusion, and anger all together.
Before they could say anything, Zainab ran straight into Ibrahim's arms. She hugged him tightly, crying again as if the moment she saw him, her fear doubled.
Ibrahim's arms closed around her protectively. His furious eyes snapped up to his mother. "What is this? What did you do to her face?"
Aliya, who had been standing by the window, walked over and firmly closed the bedroom door, shutting them all in, "Don't look at me like that. Ask your precious sister what she has done. Let's see if she has the courage to tell you herself."
"Mom," Samir stepped forward, "whatever Zainab did, you can't beat her like this! Just look at her face!"
But Ibrahim wasn't listening to them anymore. He was focused entirely on the crying girl in his arms. He gently cupped her chin, his thumb carefully wiping away her tears. He guided Zainab to sit on the bed. She sat like a scared child, shoulders shaking, eyes fixed on the blanket.
Ibrahim knelt on the floor in front of her, "Shhh, it's okay, little one. I'm here now. Tell me what happened. Did something happen at school? Did someone bully you? Or did you get into a fight with a teacher? Whatever it is, just tell me. I will handle everything. Just talk to me."
Aliya sank into a nearby chair, the fight gone from her, "The problem is not school. It's much… much bigger. There is a life growing inside your sister's body. She is almost twenty weeks pregnant. She is not even eighteen yet!"
She placed it beside Zainab so Ibrahim could see it clearly.
Ibrahim's eyes fell on the two dark lines.
His pupils widened.
His fingers froze.
His heartbeat slowed.
What followed was a minute of pure, uncontained chaos. Samir began firing questions—"Who was it?" "Are you sure?"—while Aliya's voice rose in a frantic pitch, arguing about reputations, blackmail, and what they needed to do immediately.
But in all that chaos… one person stayed silent.
Ibrahim.
He didn't shout.
He didn't ask anything.
He just stayed there—kneeling on the floor in front of Zainab—staring at the pregnancy kit, then at her tear-filled eyes.
The chaos was suffocating him. "Both of you. Get out. I want to talk to her alone."
Aliya immediately protested. "Ibrahim, this is not the time for—"
"LEAVE."
That single word left no room for argument. Samir, looking deeply worried, gently took their mother's arm and guided her from the room, closing the door softly behind them.
Ibrahim breathed slowly, trying to keep himself from breaking, "Do you want to tell me something? You don't have to be afraid of me."
But Zainab couldn't form the words. A fresh wave of tears overwhelmed her, and her body crumpled forward. She fell against his broad shoulder. Her fingers gripped the back of his shirt like she was drowning, "Ibi... I love him… I love him so much."
Ibrahim closed his eyes for a second, fighting the rising rage in his chest—but he didn't move away from her.
"This mansion always makes me feel like I don't belong here… like I'm unwanted… like I'm just a problem. But he… he made me feel different. He made me feel… like I am someone who can be loved. Someone important. Someone who matters. I just wanted that, Ibi… just once in my life."
"Why...... Why would you ever think you don't belong here? What did I do… what did this house do… to make you feel that way?"
Zainab lifted her head, "Ibi, you gave me everything. But this protection… it feels like chains. This wealth… it feels like a wall. I am so tired of being the secret. I am so bored of having to disappear when important guests come, of having my birthday celebrated in hidden places far from our home. I look at the other girls my age, and they are free. They can make mistakes. They can fall in love openly. Their biggest problem is a bad grade, not a bodyguard's report. Sometimes I would lie in bed and dream of getting a new identity. Of just… vanishing. Going to a small town where no one knows the name Rahman. Where I could work a simple job, live in a small apartment, and just be… a person. Not a secret that could ruin the family. I thought… I thought with him, I could finally have that. He made me feel like that normal life was possible."
Ibrahim ran his fingers through his hair, "This man... does he even know? Does he have any idea that there is a child growing inside you right now? Does he carry even an ounce of this burden with you?"
Zainab shook her head, "I only found out yesterday. I was so scared, so confused.... I haven't told him a single word. He doesn't know anything. I didn't know what to do."
Ibrahim took a deep, steadying breath, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. The need to find this man and tear him apart was a physical ache in his fists, but he kept them open, resting on his knees. "Look at me. I need you to answer me with your whole heart. Is he a man of character? Is he... worthy of you? Of the love you've given him and the consequence you now both face? Tell me he is not someone who just used you."
"He is, Ibi, I swear it!" Zainab insisted, "He is the most honest and kind-hearted person I have ever known. But I won't tell you who he is. I won't! Because I know you. The moment I say his name, you'll kill him. I know what you do to people who hurt me."
Ibrahim's nostrils flared—just a little. "No. Nothing like that will happen. From this moment on, your happiness is the only thing that matters. Whatever you need, whatever you want, I will make it happen. But first, we must talk about this. You are so young. Your body is still changing itself. Carrying a child is tough for a fully grown woman. For someone your age, the risks are higher. It can affect your health, your future… your very life. We have to think about what is safest for you."
"No." Zainab looked directly into his eyes, 'I am not going to end this pregnancy. I am not going to abort my child."
A part of her was terrified at her own audacity, at speaking to her brother in such a way. But another part, a part that had been silenced for too long, roared to life. This was her life, her body, her choice. If she did not stand her ground now she would be surrendering her rights forever. It was the most terrifying and empowering decision she had ever made. It was now, or it was never.
Ibrahim swallowed hard. He wasn't wearing a tie, but a pressure tightened around his neck, making it difficult to breathe. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the floor and stood.
"Alright. If this is your choice... if you are determined to walk this path, then there is only one way forward."
He turned and walked toward the balcony. Zainab slipped off the bed and followed him, stopping in the doorway. He gripped the balcony railing, his knuckles turning white as he stared out at the manicured lawn below.
"Go and bring him to me. In two days, you turn eighteen. The legal age for marriage. If you are so determined to tie your life to this man and carry his child… then your wish will be fulfilled."
From below, the sounds of the gardeners tending the lush, green lawn floated up, a world of normalcy that felt a million miles away.
Ibrahim turned fully to face her now, "You want to be an adult? You want to make adult decisions? Then face the adult consequences. I will not have my sister, raising a child in shame and secrecy. If he is the 'honest and kind' man you claim, then he will stand before me and claim his responsibility. He will look me in the eye and tell me his intentions. And if he is worthy… if he can convince me that he will protect you and that child with his very life… then you will have my blessing. You can have your marriage, your new life, your freedom from this 'cage'."
The raw anguish in his eyes took her breath away. It wasn't just anger; it was the terrifying fear of a brother watching his sister leap into an abyss.
"But know this, Zainab. If he is not everything you say he is… if he hesitates for even a second… then you will finally understand why I built these walls around you. Because the world out there doesn't love you. It uses you. And I will not stand by and watch it break you."