ZAIN
"That's the least I could do to save my future ... binding him in a one-year deal instead of waiting three long years and watching everything drown," Zain confessed, recounting the entire story. Mrs. Staford and Miss listened until the end, their mouths agape.
"Is this man in his senses? Does he truly believe Henry Macros can take your place? The boy has only just joined the LTA! He would need to surpass countless players before even nearing your level .... and that is impossible in a year," Mr. Alam said, still stunned, doubting the sanity of Adam Macros.
"The problem isn't that he thinks Henry can reach me. The real danger is that his blind confidence in his son could destroy my career. He designed this contract so that every exit is sealed....I must obey whatever he commands." Zain's voice carried the weight of frustration, his mind restless with the trap he was caught in.
"Zain, listen," Mr. Alam said gently. "I know how much the LTA means to you, especially since Sir Muzzamil chose it for you. But this is about your career." He spoke carefully, aware that even mentioning Zain's father stirred deep pain.
"What do you mean by that?"
Zain's eyes narrowed, puzzled. He suspected what Alam was about to say but hadn't expected him to voice it aloud.
"Look, Zain .... this man is dangerous. If he sets his mind on something, he'll make it happen. Think of your future. Leave the LTA. There are many federations far better, all eager to welcome you."
It took courage to speak, but Mr. Alam pushed past his fear, thinking only of Zain's future.
"Mr. Alam..." Zain's voice broke with disbelief, his eyes shimmering. Mr. Alam knew all too well.....Zain could never abandon the LTA. Not because of a power-hungry CEO. It was his father's dream. Zain still remembered the triumphant dance his father had done when he was first selected.
"Adam forgets one thing," Zain said firmly. "Leaving the LTA is not an option. I see no future beyond it. Perhaps it looks like madness to you, but to me, it is honoring my father's wish. And besides, someone must teach Adam a lesson...that being a CEO doesn't give him the right to play with players' lives."
With that, Zain ended the discussion. Yet inside, he still fidgeted, his thoughts circling the deal like chains he couldn't break.
Suddenly, he remembered...the letter. He sprang up, patting his pockets, panic tightening his chest when he realized it was gone. For a moment, he thought he had lost his last link to his father. His gaze flicked to Mrs. Staford. She immediately caught his distress.
"Sir, don't worry....the letter is in the drawer," she reassured him softly. Relief washed over him as she placed it back in his hands.
"Mr. Alam, Mrs. Staford....prepare for Canada. I'll spend this one long year away from here... and from the LTA," Zain declared. They both nodded silently. They had raised him like a son, but in the end, he was still their employer.
"Mrs. Staford....this time, let me read this letter alone. No disturbances." His voice carried a quiet authority, less command, more warning.
"Of course, sir. Don't worry," she replied with a professional smile before leaving.
When the room emptied, Zain sank onto the couch, drew a deep breath, and unfolded the letter, continuing where he had last stopped:
I wanted to go alone, because you and your mother were too precious to expose to the dangers of that land. But your mother insisted. Fear had taken hold of her....fear of the unknown woman she believed waited only for me. And her fears were not unfounded. Those hard-headed people were capable of anything. Thinking her presence might prevent their schemes, I relented.
We left you in the care of Mr. Alam and Mrs. Staford, and began our journey to a land that would leave scars we bore all our life...
Yet when we arrived, to my surprise, we were welcomed warmly. I had an emotional reunion with my family. My father had passed away, but my mother and siblings were still alive. Tears blurred our eyes after so many years apart. They embraced Ayesha and asked about you... why we hadn't brought you. I excused it with your studies.
Among them was my sister Razia, once so full of laughter. Now, she was a shadow....silent, hollow, barely smiling. I asked my mother, and she revealed the truth. After my escape and refusal of marriage, Razia had been given to them as compensation to Dilbar Khan. They had married her to that girl's elder brother... the same age difference I once faced. Guilt consumed me. My baby sister, whom I once held in my arms, had paid the price for my choices.
But when I met Dilbar Khan, he was not what I had imagined. Outwardly, he was gracious, friendly, hospitable. I wondered if it was only the age gap that had broken Razia, for her eyes carried unspoken sorrow. Something was wrong.
He never left Razia's side, even staying in our home as though afraid she might reveal something. At times, I caught his eyes dark with malice, though he masked it with a smile. He was a puzzle....always vague, always veiled.
One day, in Ayesha's absence, I apologized to him. I told him my decision back then was best even for his sister. He reassured me, said his sister was married now and the past was forgotten.
Later, I realized his words were a lie ... a bluff to cloak his devilry. That man had caged Razia like a prisoner. My innocent sister attempted suicide again and again to escape his cruelty, but he refused to let her die.
She revealed all of this only later...when that revenge-driven devil destroyed us completely...
Ayesha was two months pregnant, but she had hidden it, fearing I would never let her come. Yet the sharp eyes of the elder women soon uncovered her secret. I was shaken by her lie ... how could she endanger the life of a child not yet born? I resolved then to return home. But destiny had other plans. My mother suddenly fell gravely ill. In that barren land, proper treatment was impossible. Your mother, trained as a nurse, took over her care, devoting herself night and day. Yet her pregnancy became harder to hide.
Despite Ayesha's tireless efforts, my mother could not be saved. She passed away. After days of mourning, we bid farewell and made our way toward the airport...
When we reached the airport, the authorities refused to let Ayesha board the plane. Her due date was too near, and the rules strictly prohibited her from traveling by air. I couldn't possibly leave her there alone, not with so many dangers pressing in from every side.
On our way back, she was suddenly struck with labor pains. We rushed her to a hospital, where I anxiously waited outside the labor room. At last, a nurse emerged and congratulated me on the birth of a baby girl.
My heart soared with joy. I immediately asked about Ayesha, and they assured me she was safe and recovering. The baby, however, was suffering from jaundice and had been placed in an incubator. I was allowed only to glimpse her from a distance.
That night, I remained in the corridor, restless, guarding both mother and child. My happiness kept me awake, but sometime near dawn I dozed off. It was then that a ward boy shook me awake and delivered the news that shattered my soul: the nurse who had given me the good news had kidnapped the baby and vanished.
The words thundered through me, leaving me numb. I filed an FIR against the unknown culprit, though my heart trembled with despair.
Ayesha was inconsolable, broken by the loss of the child she had carried within her for nine months. I broke the news to my family, and they gathered around us, offering hope that the police would find her soon. Yet Razia remained silent. And strangely, Dilbar....who had pretended to help...was nowhere to be seen.
That night, when no one else was around, Razia finally spoke. She revealed that Dilbar Khan was the one behind it all. He had long sought revenge, but when he couldn't reach me, he turned his hatred elsewhere. He had married her only to torment her, to punish her for what I had done to his sister. And now, fate had handed him the perfect chance. She confessed that she had once felt relieved, believing we were gone, and so had kept his secret, never realizing that we were still there.
We searched desperately for Dilbar, but he had disappeared as if he had never existed. The police, hopeless, closed the case.
With heavy hearts and no clues, we left. For years I searched. Again and again, I returned to that cursed place, but I never found a trace... neither of the nurse, nor of Dilbar, nor of the child who was taken from us.
I tried to move on. I tried to forget. But I could not. That wound never healed...it bled within me every single day.
Zain, perhaps you can succeed where I failed. You are not an ordinary man. Your strength and reach are far greater than mine. Your sister needs you. She is alone, surrounded by enemies, with no one to stand by her side.
This is my plea, from a heartbroken father to his son: bring her back. Bring her home, to where she truly belongs.
The letter ended. He flipped it over, hoping for a few more words....and found another sealed letter.
The heading read:
This letter is not for you but
When you reach South Waziristan, Pakistan, try to find Afghani Bibi, the leader of our tribe. She lives in Afghanistan but comes there on the last weekend of every month to check on her tribe, a few of whom still live there. Give this letter to her.
Please don't open it.
Zain folded the letter with trembling hands. His cheeks were wet, though he hadn't realized when the tears had begun to fall. Grief overwhelmed him, and he broke down in sobs....partly for the guilt of misunderstanding his father, partly for the sister who might not even know she had a brother, and partly for the parents who had endured so much yet had tried to shield him from pain.