Fayez found himself standing before a gruesome scene. Several people lay dead—including a woman who, by the look of it, had taken her own life to avoid being violated.
The two girls he had saved were trembling, terrified. They had wrapped themselves in whatever cloth they could find.
Fayez turned away from them, only to realize his wound was more serious than he'd thought. If left untreated, he could bleed out.
Even though he knew it was inappropriate to ask for help in a situation like this, he had no choice.
"Hey… can you get me a knife, some clean cloth, and iodine? I need to bandage my wound."
One of the girls seemed to understand and silently stood up. He followed her without another word.
She handed him a first aid kit—something quite rare in times like this—and told him to stay put.
Fayez began treating the wound himself. Luckily, his background in science from school helped him stay calm and do it properly.
The next morning, Fayez woke up to see the same horrific scene. The two girls had stayed by their loved ones' bodies all night.
"You should probably bur… I mean, hold a funeral for your family," he said cautiously.
With a sigh, the elder girl replied, "There's a family graveyard in the garden. We should bury them there."
"Well, you take care of the funeral. I'll deal with… the others," Fayez said, clearly referring to the rogue soldiers.
He dragged their bodies outside and laid them beneath a mango tree. Before burying them, he checked their pockets.
He found three pistols, some cash, and a photo of a smiling family.
The man in the photo was one of the people he'd killed the night before.
How does a family man become a rapist?
The thought lingered in his mind.
The funeral was held at noon. Three bodies… and only three people to send them off. Fayez was the only one to pray the Janazah.
Life's like a cruel joke, he thought bitterly.
Afterward, the two girls cooked lunch and invited him to join them.
Fayez fell into deep thought. To navigate this post-war chaos, he needed two things: a security force and money.
That's when he realized—he was sitting on a gold mine. The house was wealthy. The girls couldn't defend it… couldn't even protect themselves.
If he claimed this property, he could start a profitable business, maybe even build that security agency he'd dreamed of.
Did I become so low that I'd rob two helpless girls?
But then he shook his head.
This wealth didn't belong to them. It was extorted from the people. I can use it to help others later. But first—I have to survive.
That afternoon, Fayez saw the two girls again—along with a young boy, about six or seven. They must have hidden him during the chaos and only let him out after the funeral.
Fayez sat down and said,
"Well, I never introduced myself. My name is Fayez. I fought in the war. Got injured… lost some of my memory."
Surprised, the elder girl quickly responded, "I'm Roshni. I'm 16. This is my younger sister, Raisa—she's 13. And that little guy over there is my brother Arif. He's 7."
Fayez didn't say much after that. He quietly began eating. The food reminded him of his mother.
I wonder how she's doing after my death?
She's probably cursing and crying…
I died before I could even repay her debt.
With a heavy heart, he looked at the siblings.
He felt guilty for what he was about to say.
"So… what are you planning now? Moving to Pakistan? Or staying here?"
"I don't think we can flee," Roshni said quietly. "But staying here is also…"
"This place is dangerous," Fayez said. "But I can promise you safety. In return… I'll be seizing this property, as punishment for your family's collaboration with the Pakistan military."
Roshni's eyes flickered with betrayal—but she composed herself.
"Well… you can have it. Just protect us. That's all I ask."
Fayez felt the guilt rise again as she gave in so easily.
"I swear," he said. "I'll protect you all with my life."
She nodded.
And as silence fell, one thought echoed in Fayez's mind:
Am I a savior… or just a robber?
He didn't know the answer.