The next morning was quiet, the kind of calm Ibrahim liked before his busy day began. He was standing near the large black-framed window in the hall of his guesthouse, holding a cup of steaming tea in his hand. He was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and loose grey pants. In just a few hours, he had an important business meeting to attend, but for now, he was simply observing.
Outside, a teenage boy, no older than fifteen, was standing in front of the house. Ibrahim's eyes followed the boy's every move as he sipped his tea slowly.
The silence in the hall broke when Zainab suddenly entered.
"Where are my socks?! I've looked everywhere." she complained loudly, stomping her feet a little as if that would make them magically appear.
Ibrahim didn't even turn his head, "They're in your closet… bottom drawer."
Zainab groaned at herself for not checking there first. She turned quickly, ready to dash back to her room. But before she could leave, her brother's voice stopped her.
"What's his name?"
Zainab blinked, confused. "Who?"
"The boy standing outside," Ibrahim said, turning slightly to glance at her. "What's his name?"
"Aqil." she said casually.
He turned away from the window and slowly walked toward her, "You're going alone with him?"
Zainab couldn't help but roll her eyes. "What do you want me to do, Ibi? Invite all the neighbours and have a full-blown picnic? Should I rent a bus too? Maybe you'd like to join us?"
"I don't join picnics," he replied coolly, placing his cup down on the table. "Share your live location with me the moment you step out of this house. From start to finish. No excuses."
Zainab let out an exaggerated sigh. "You know, normal brothers don't track their sisters like FBI agents."
"Normal brothers," Ibrahim said, adjusting the cuffs of his turtleneck, "don't have enemies who'd pay millions for a single mistake."
"Fine. I'll share my location with you. But you're not putting men to spy on me, okay?" She jabbed her finger at him. "No guards following me around like I'm a celebrity on a bad reality show."
Ibrahim studied her for a long moment. He hated the idea of letting her roam without protection, but he also knew Zainab wasn't a little girl anymore. "Alright," he said with a small nod. "No men. But if there's even the slightest problem, you call me. Immediately."
Zainab nodded, "See? That wasn't so hard. You know, you're at an age where you should be raising your own children. but instead, here you are—raising your sister like she's a naughty toddler."
That actually made Ibrahim pause, his brows arching as he looked at her, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You should be a dad by now, Ibi. Maybe teaching some toddler how to say 'Dada' instead of threatening people all day."
"I can't raise children without getting married first." he shot back dryly, "and since when have you started learning this kind of… nonsense? You've been reading those filthy, cheap romance novels behind my back, haven't you? Those ones with glittery covers and ridiculous titles like His Dangerous Touch? Don't lie to me."
"Zainab!" He followed her down the long white corridor, "You better not be filling your head with filthy stories about boys with sharp jawlines and motorcycles. If I see even one of those books—"
"Relax!" Zainab pushed open her bedroom door and stepped inside. "I'm not some silly child who believes everything she reads. I know what's real and what's not. I'm not clueless anymore, Ibi. I'm growing up."
She grabbed her cute pastel-colored backpack from the bed and slipped it over her shoulders. Then, she reached for a small pink perfume bottle from the dresser, spraying a gentle mist on her wrist and neck.
Ibrahim leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her, "You're fifteen. That's… barely old enough to cross the road without someone holding your hand."
BUT WHO CARED!!!!
Zainab pulled out her missing socks from drawers, tugged them on, and then slipped into her clean white sneakers. "All done." She stood up, gave herself a quick look in the mirror, and walked past Ibrahim, her bag bouncing lightly against her back.
"Bye," she said cheerfully, waving a hand as she passed him in the hallway. "Keep talking to ghosts now. You'll probably be talking to them for the rest of your life… How single." She clucked her tongue, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh! And tell my 'parents' I'm inviting two more friends for dinner tonight, apart from Aqil. Make sure the lawn looks nice. Put some lights or something… and set the tables properly." She paused by the door, flashing him a mischievous grin. "Thanks, Ibi. Bye again."
She stepped out of the house and spotted Aqil leaning casually against one of the stone pillars, his hands lazily tossing a small pebble in the air and catching it. He didn't even glance toward the doorway when she appeared, as if he'd been lost in his own thoughts.
"Why didn't you come inside? I told the security guard to call you in," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Aqil looked up at her with a soft smile. For a moment, he just took her in—the way the sunlight caught her open hair, the way her blue jeans and crisp white shirt made her look effortlessly beautiful. Coincidentally, he was dressed in the same colors: a simple white shirt with blue jeans, though his looked a little more worn. The matching outfits made him smile wider, though he didn't comment on it.
"I just didn't want to," he said with a shrug, still flicking the stone between his fingers. "If you knew I was waiting inside, you'd take longer to get ready. At least this way, I get you faster."
Zainab let out a soft laugh at that, shaking her head. Both of them walked together to the car parked for her use. It was nothing fancy, just a normal sedan, but it had a soft leather backseat where they slid in. The driver started the engine quietly, and the car hummed to life.
She leaned back, crossing her legs and adjusting her bag, "I got ready really fast because you were standing in the sun all this time. Take advantage of me while you can. Because one day when I leave this world everyone, I mean EVERYONE, will remember every little thing about me. How I annoyed them, how I laughed too loud, how I insisted on having dessert before dinner, how I talked too much, how I did random little things. Because I'm unforgettable. And yes, I fully intend to make my presence so loud that the world can't ignore it, even if I'm just walking down the street or spilling my snacks everywhere."
Aqil glanced at her, "I… don't mind waiting in the sun, okay? Also… please, don't ever talk about leaving world like that."
Zainab ignored his worry and pulled out two brightly colored tickets for a magic show from her bag, "I'm not going anywhere. I just like making you nervous, that's all. Sorry… not sorry."
Aqil blinked at the ticket in his hand, then back at her. "I… didn't know you enjoyed seeing me tense so much."
"Oh, Aqil, you're so easy to tease. It's practically a hobby now."
The day felt happy, especially for Zainab. They went out together to watch a magic show where a very famous magician was performing. The hall was crowded with people. She loved things like this, shows that made her feel amazed. Aqil, on the other hand, wasn't really interested in magic. He didn't believe in it. In his mind, all of it felt fake—just tricks that people learned to fool others. Normally, he would never come to such a place. But today wasn't about him. He cared about sitting next to her and watching her laugh for two hours straight.
They sat side by side on old wooden chairs in the warm, packed hall. There was no air conditioning. Fans on the ceiling moved slowly, barely making a difference. Aqil didn't mind the heat much; he had grown up working outdoors, and sweat on his forehead was nothing new. But Zainab wasn't like him. She grew up spending most of her time indoors, in cool, air-conditioned rooms. Even at school, the summer heat always made her uncomfortable, and Aqil had seen her struggle during sports days when there was no way to escape it. He knew this heat would tire her out quickly.
Quietly, he stood up for a moment and slipped out of the hall. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of cold water and a soft handkerchief he had bought from a nearby shop. He didn't say anything, but he passed her the bottle and gently placed the folded handkerchief in her hand. Zainab smiled at him, her attention quickly turning back to the magician's tricks.
After the show ended, they walked out of the big theatre. It was lunchtime, so they made their way to a restaurant nearby.
"Oh, I'm starving! I swear I could eat an entire chicken right now. No, actually, maybe two chickens!" Zainab said, walking toward a restaurant.
Aqil opened the door for her and followed her inside. He looked around, found a comfortable table, and quickly pulled out a chair for her, "I'll take care of the bill today. Order anything you want. Whatever you like."
Zainab's eyes widened as she looked at him. "Wait, wait, wait… where did you even get the money? Did you steal from the bank or something?" She leaned forward and whispered, "Aqil, if you did, blink twice!"
He shook his head with a small smile while sitting on his chair, "I actually started a part-time gig at a supermarket a couple of weeks ago. Just stocking shelves and doing deliveries."
For weeks, he had been thinking about how Zainab always paid for things — for tea, snacks, tickets, everything. She never made him feel bad about it, but he felt it anyway. He had always wanted to take care of her, even in small ways like buying her a meal. So when a job opened up at the local supermarket, he had taken it without a second thought. He didn't tell her at first because he didn't want her to feel like he was trying to prove something. But today, watching her sit there across the table, smiling and relaxed, he felt it was worth every late evening shift.
Zainab scanned the menu, flipping through the pages with a grin. "Ahh… so now you're rich." Then she gasped, "Oh no! I forgot to call Nayla and Yusuf about coming over for dinner at my house tonight." She put a hand over her forehead, laughing at her own forgetfulness.
Aqil picked up a small glass decor piece from the table—a delicate thing with gold flakes inside—and spun it between his fingers absentmindedly. "Then call them now. I can wait."
She put the call on speaker, leaning back in her chair.
"Hey, Yusuf. Come over tonight for dinner at my place. You and Nayla both. Aqil is coming too. It's been a while, and I—"
But Yusuf's voice cut her off, "Zainab… we can't. Nayla's mom… she collapsed suddenly. We're at the hospital right now."