Scene 1: Morning at the Hospital
The morning sun rose bright and soft over City General Hospital, streaming through the pale curtains of Room 308. A gentle breeze entered through the half-open window, carrying the faint sound of traffic and the call of a street vendor. Inside, the rhythmic beeping of medical monitors was no longer a reminder of pain — it had become the sound of recovery, of hope.
Haroon lay on the hospital bed, sitting up slightly with the help of a pillow. His face had regained a healthy glow, though the traces of exhaustion were still visible. Maryam was arranging breakfast on the small tray beside him — porridge, fruit, and a thermos of tea she had brought from home.
"Your tea is ready, Haroon," she said softly. "No sugar, as doctor ordered."
Haroon smiled. "Even tea without sugar tastes sweet when you make it."
Maryam smiled faintly, her eyes moist with affection. "You and your flattery."
Just then, the door opened quietly. Rimsha entered with two cups of coffee in a disposable tray. "Imran bhai just parked the car. He'll be here in a minute. And… the kids are at school; they made a get-well card for you."
Haroon grinned. "My two champions never disappoint."
Maryam placed a spoonful of porridge near him. "Eat first, then you can see their masterpiece."
As Haroon began his breakfast, Rimsha sat on the chair beside Maryam. There was a rare calmness in the room — after nights filled with tension, the morning felt like the world had slowed down for them to breathe again.
But in the back of Haroon's mind, something stirred — the thought of unfinished work, unanswered questions, and Inspector Haseeb's call from last night.
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Scene 2: The Arrival of Inspector Haseeb
Around 10 a.m., the door opened once more, and Inspector Haseeb Malik entered quietly. His khaki uniform was crisp, the black file in his hand thick with papers. He greeted everyone with a polite nod before approaching the bed.
"Assalamualaikum, sir," he said respectfully. "How are you feeling today?"
Haroon smiled faintly. "Much better, Alhamdulillah. Please, have a seat, Haseeb."
Maryam quickly stood. "I'll step outside for a few minutes. Rimsha, come with me — we'll get some tea from the cafeteria."
Haroon nodded approvingly. "Yes, please. We'll just talk some official matters."
Maryam understood — these were conversations meant for officers, not wives. She gave Haroon a reassuring look and quietly left the room with Rimsha.
As the door closed, the atmosphere shifted. Haseeb opened the black file and placed several stapled sheets on the table.
"Sir, this is what we found after interrogating Yashwant and Juginder," he began. "We traced every account and confirmed the full transfer. It's all here — copies of the transactions, time stamps, and account routes."
Haroon adjusted his pillow and leaned slightly forward. "Tell me everything, from the start."
Haseeb opened the first page. "The total sum laundered through fake business accounts was around 5.6 million rupees. The transfers occurred three days before their arrest. All amounts were redirected into Indian bank accounts under aliases — Arjun Vashisht and Deepak Rao. The IP trail shows Delhi origin servers."
Haroon's jaw tightened. "They had an insider."
"Yes," Haseeb said gravely. "The accounts were initially opened here under Pakistani names, but the digital signatures match those of a Karachi-based banker — someone who accessed the secure routing portal. We're still verifying his identity."
"Name?" Haroon asked sharply.
Haseeb flipped another page. "Preliminary name — Rizwan Aftab, assistant manager, Federal Bank Karachi branch. But we need your permission to launch a formal seizure of his digital assets."
Haroon's eyes hardened, the instinct of a senior officer returning. "You have it. File immediate seizure and freeze orders. No leak to the media until we confirm his involvement."
"Yes, sir." Haseeb jotted the command in his notepad.
After a brief silence, Haroon exhaled. "Good work, Haseeb. You've done exactly what I expected."
Haseeb looked at him thoughtfully. "Sir, may I say something? When you were in surgery, none of us believed you'd recover this fast. But seeing you now, giving orders again — it gives us all strength."
Haroon smiled, faint but proud. "We don't serve for comfort, Haseeb. We serve because the truth doesn't protect itself."
"Yes, sir," Haseeb said firmly.
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Scene 3: The Promise
Before leaving, Haseeb placed a sealed envelope on the table. "Sir, this is your copy of the statement and official verification documents. I'll keep you updated on the next arrests."
Haroon nodded. "And one more thing, Haseeb — once you detain Rizwan, get his confession in writing. No torture, no shortcuts. I want evidence that can stand in court."
Haseeb stood, saluted smartly, and replied, "Understood, sir."
As he turned to leave, Haroon added in a quieter tone, "And Haseeb… thank you. For not giving up."
Haseeb smiled warmly. "Sir, we only follow your example."
When he left, Haroon leaned back, his eyes drifting to the sunlight dancing across the floor. The storm was far from over — but for the first time in weeks, he could see a clear path forward.
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Scene 4: Family Gathering
By noon, Maryam, Rimsha, and Imran returned to the room. Maryam carried a small bag with fruit and snacks, while Imran brought a cheerful energy that filled the air immediately.
"So," Imran said, pulling up a chair beside Haroon, "the hero is back to duty even before leaving the hospital?"
Haroon chuckled softly. "You know me too well. Paperwork never waits."
Maryam rolled her eyes affectionately. "At least let him recover before you two start talking about work again."
Rimsha laughed. "Bhabhi, these two can't live without discussing police cases."
Imran replied teasingly, "And you can't live without scolding him. Balance is what keeps the world running."
Maryam tried to hide her smile but failed. "You all think you're so clever."
The laughter filled the room — light, warm, real. Even Haroon laughed, though he winced a little from the stitches.
Rimsha handed him the children's handmade card. "Here — from Ubaid and little Irfan."
Haroon opened it carefully. Inside was a crayon drawing — a man in a hospital bed, two boys holding his hands, and a big red heart above them with "Get well soon, Papa!" written in crooked letters.
Haroon's eyes softened. "This… is better than any medal."
Maryam blinked away tears. "They prayed for you every night."
"And Allah heard them," Haroon said gently, squeezing her hand. "Because He always listens to pure hearts."
Imran grinned. "Well, seems like the hardest part's over. Now all you need is rest and home-cooked food."
Rimsha nodded. "We should celebrate when bhai comes home."
Maryam smiled. "We will. With everyone. No tension, no fear — just peace."
Haroon looked around the room — his wife, his brother, his sister-in-law — all smiling, all alive. The pain, the blood, the sleepless nights — suddenly, it all felt worth it.
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Scene 5: Afternoon Reflections
Later that afternoon, Haroon dozed lightly while Maryam sat beside him, quietly reciting Qur'anic verses. The calmness of the moment reminded her how fragile life had been just days ago.
Rimsha whispered to Imran near the window, "You know, I think she'll never forget this hospital."
Imran nodded. "Maybe not. But she'll remember it as the place where prayers were answered."
The doctor entered briefly, checked Haroon's vitals, and said with a smile, "He's recovering remarkably well. Maybe another two or three days, and we can discharge him."
Maryam's eyes glowed. "Alhamdulillah. That's the best news of the week."
Haroon, half-awake, murmured, "I heard that, doctor. You're officially my favorite person today."
Everyone laughed softly. The tension that had hung like a shadow for days finally seemed to lift, replaced by warmth, laughter, and gratitude.
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Scene 6: Evening Peace
As evening descended, golden light filled the hospital corridor. Maryam stood near the window watching the sky turn pink and orange, her heart swelling with peace. Imran and Rimsha were packing up a few things, and Haroon was finishing a light dinner.
When she turned back, Haroon was watching her with a faint smile.
"What?" she asked shyly.
He shook his head. "Just thinking how lucky I am. Allah gave me another chance… and gave me you beside me again."
Maryam walked closer, her voice soft. "And I'm thankful He returned you to us."
She sat beside him, holding his hand. For a moment, no words were needed — just their hearts speaking in silence, full of relief and gratitude.
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Scene 7: Hope Returns
At around 8 p.m., the room was filled again with cheerful chatter — Rimsha recounting something funny from the cafeteria, Imran joking about how he'll write a book titled "Hospital Diaries of the DSP." Even Haroon joined in, teasing Maryam for hiding his phone to keep him off work calls.
Laughter echoed, pure and genuine — a sound that hadn't been heard in this family for weeks.
When the nurse entered to switch off the overhead lights, Haroon whispered to Maryam, "You know what this feels like?"
"What?" she asked.
"Home," he said simply.
And for once, Maryam couldn't agree more.
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End of Chapter