Zafar stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "Or are you taking that food to someone else?"
Aliza froze, looking at him in genuine shock.
"What? Obviously not! I mean, you know, Zafar, I love to cook," Aliza stammered, trying to regain her composure.
"To *cook*? Not to eat... especially at this hour," Zafar countered, taking another step toward her, his shadow looming over the kitchen tiles.
"Am I not even allowed to eat now?" Aliza snapped, meeting his gaze. Her eyes flared with a sudden, sharp anger.
Zafar closed his eyes for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, before opening them again. "I hope you aren't creating trouble for your father..."
"Don't worry about it," Aliza replied coldly.
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her. "Kinz".
Aliza paused and looked back. Zafar turned fully toward her, his expression uncharacteristically soft, almost vulnerable.
"Do I... by any chance... harass you?" he asked. There was a strange innocence in his voice that felt entirely out of place.
Aliza stared at him in disbelief, then let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "No! Zafar, seriously?"
She walked toward him and held up her hand. The skin was marked with deep reddish welts. "By any chance, Zafar?" she whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed pain as she pointed to the marks. "By any chance?"
The color drained from Zafar's face. He shook his head slowly, as if denying the reality in front of him.
"Did you really think you were being kind to me? Blocking my path, grabbing my arm, interrogating me with a thousand questions..." Aliza took a breath, her voice hardening. "If this isn't harassment, Zafar, then what is it?"
"I didn't know, Kinz... I truly didn't," Zafar said, his voice laced with a raw, unexpected ache. "I was always taught that if you like something, you take it. That's what Uncle always told me. If my mother were here, maybe she would have taught me how to treat a woman, but... she left me so long ago. So..." He looked at her, his eyes searching. "Who was there to teach me?"
Aliza looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't know," she whispered, turning to leave once more.
"I'm watching you," Zafar's voice regained its edge, though the pain still lingered. "If I get even a hint that you're up to something..." He paused. "There will be no one worse than me."
"There is no one worse than you already," Aliza threw back over her shoulder as she hurried toward her room.
Once inside, she locked the door and sank down, staring at her reddened hand.
Back in the cell, I stared at my own wounded hands.
"It seems Aliza is busy today; she hasn't come," Iqbal Sahab remarked with a sigh. "We should try to get some sleep."
"But what if she shows up?" I asked, my eyes fixed on the bars.
"If she were coming, she'd be here by now," he replied, settling into his corner. "I'm going to sleep."
"Do you think... someone found out?" I whispered, the anxiety gnawing at me.
Iqbal Sahab looked at me, a flicker of worry crossing his face before he masked it. "Aliza is smart. Don't worry about her."
But the tension in his expression told a different story.
In her room, Aliza paced restlessly. *I have to get this ointment and the bandages to them, but I don't know what's gotten into Zafar tonight.* Suddenly, she stopped. An idea flickered in her mind.
*"The packed bowl was exposed. Zafar looked shocked for a split second before snatching it from my hand..."* I remembered the scene vividly. *"Does he know?"* I muttered to myself.
*Tck.*
The sound of the door opening made Iqbal Sahab and I bolt upright. We scrambled toward the bars to see who it was. To our immense relief, it was Aliza.
"Are you okay?" I asked immediately.
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, catching her breath.
"Why so late, daughter?" Iqbal Sahab asked.
"Sigh... Zafar," she answered.
"Does he know?" I pressed.
"No... but he's suspicious. He said he'd be watching me."
"He saw the lunch you gave me," I told her. "I think he recognized it."
A shadow of concern crossed her face, but she quickly shook it off.
"How did you even get here then?" Iqbal Sahab asked.
"Never mind how, *why* are you here?" I added. "It's too dangerous for you right now."
"As for why—I told you I'd bring bandages tonight, so I had to come," Aliza said, turning her attention to Iqbal Sahab with a small, triumphant smile. "And as for how..."
*Earlier that night...*
"Tara! Tara!" Aliza whispered, shaking the sleeping girl.
"Huh? Yes?" Tara mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
"Would you mind taking some tea to Zafar?" Aliza asked.
Tara was suddenly wide awake. "Me? You want *me* to take him tea?"
"Yes. Take this to him, but don't tell him I made it, okay?"
"But... what if he asks why I'm bringing him tea so late?" Tara worried.
"Just tell him he looked stressed and tired today. You know he never says no to tea," Aliza encouraged.
"Okay, I'll go," Tara said, taking the cup.
>>>
"And as soon as Zafar drank the tea, he fell fast asleep," Aliza explained. "I mixed in some opium."
"Opium? What's that?" I asked.
"Something that can make anyone sleep. But you have to be an expert to use it; otherwise, it's very dangerous," she noted.
"He didn't mistreat you today, did he?" Iqbal Sahab asked.
"No, Iqbal sahab!... actually, for a moment, I saw a glimpse of my Best friend in him. But," Aliza's voice trailed off sadly, "it was only for a moment."
"Best friend?" I repeated, skeptical.
"Forget all that," Aliza said, pulling the medical supplies from her bag. I took the bandages and handed them toward Iqbal Sahab.
"Iqbal Sahab," I said.
"What is it?"
"Could you bandage my hands?"
Iqbal Sahab looked at Aliza. "Aliza, daughter!"
"Yes?"
"Who usually does my bandaging?"
"I do," she replied with a smile.
"Hear that?" Iqbal Sahab said, looking back at me with a smirk.
I looked at Aliza, who was laughing softly. "Fine, give it here," she said, taking the bandages from me. She pulled more supplies from her bag. "Hold out your hand."
I reached my hand through the bars. Aliza took it gently. Her touch was light, almost hesitant.
"This might hurt a little..." she whispered.
She soaked a cloth in vinegar and pressed it softly against the wound. I winced. "It stings..."
"It's supposed to," she said gently.
She cleaned the wound with extreme care, as if terrified of causing me more pain. Then she applied a bit of honey. The burning sensation intensified.
A sharp gasp escaped my lips. Seeing my distress, she instinctively pulled my hand closer and blew softly on the wound. The cool air momentarily dulled the sting.
"Better?" she asked, looking up at me.
I nodded. It hurt, but for some reason, the pain felt almost pleasant coming from her. I zoned out, watching her focused expression as she worked.
"Finished," she said, snapping me back to reality.
"Oh... thanks," I stammered.
"I have to go; it's very late," Aliza said, packing her things.
"Hmm," I replied.
"Don't go fainting again tomorrow," she teased. "Make sure you eat properly."
Iqbal Sahab burst into laughter.
"Oh, come on!" I grumbled.
The next morning, Iqbal Sahab and I were back at the work site.
"BILAL!" Adi's voice rang out.
I turned to see him walking toward me with a grin. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, right here in front of you," I replied.
"Well, you look fine now—"
"If you're about to make a joke about me fainting, don't. I'm tired of hearing it," I interrupted.
Adi laughed, but the sound was cut short by the approaching rhythm of hooves. Zafar Khan and his men were arriving.
"He's early today," Adi noted nervously.
"He's Ahmed Khan's dog, after all," I muttered.
"Shh! Someone will hear you!" Adi looked around frantically.
Zafar dismounted and began walking straight toward us.
"He's coming this way," Adi whispered.
I stood my ground, silent. Zafar stopped in front of us, his eyes boring into mine.
"Aditya Kumar!" Zafar said, turning his attention to Adi. "Did you bring anything from home today?"
"No," Adi answered quickly.
"Good," Zafar said. "Let's see if any food 'appears' today." He shot a pointed look at me.
I just smiled. Zafar's eyes then dropped to my bandaged hands.
"Did Aditya do these bandages too?" Zafar asked.
Adi opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. "No. Adi didn't do this."
"Then who did?" Zafar demanded.
"Oh? And if I don't tell you? What then?" I challenged.
"Then I'll bury you right here, right now," Zafar hissed.
I let out a loud, mocking laugh. "ZAFAR KHAN! Ahmed Khan's *special* dog... killing me without his master's permission? How could that ever happen—"
Before I could finish, Zafar's powerful hand clamped around my throat.
"I'LL TURN YOU INTO A DEAD DOG RIGHT NOW," Zafar roared.
His grip was like iron. I struggled to breathe, clawing at his hand as the world began to blur. His strength was overwhelming, and for the first time, I felt the true weight of his cold, calculated rage.