Armaan was halfway down the street when the thought struck him like a slap.
"I left my phone in her room," he muttered, slamming on the brakes.
Turning back, he hurried inside. The moment he stepped into her room, his chest tightened — she was tossing in her sleep, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead.
"What happened to you, Champion?" he said softly, moving closer. "There's no one here. Are you all right? Here, take this…"
He poured water into a glass and gently pressed it into her trembling hands. She drank slowly, her eyes distant, as though still haunted by shadows no one else could see.
From the doorway, Areej's voice cracked with emotion. "None of this is Sisi's fault," she said through her tears.
"Please don't cry," Haider whispered, wrapping an arm around her. "Everything will be all right soon."
But Armaan barely heard them. His gaze never left Zara's face. Her silence weighed heavier than words.
If she's keeping it from me, then something is very, very wrong, he thought grimly.