8. Hasna or Sarah?

Hamza picked up the call and pressed the answer button on his Bluetooth device. "Hello sweetheart, are you missing me?" he said, expecting to hear Sarah's voice on the other end. He heard Sarah's chuckle and she said, ' Yes, where are you now?'

On the way home.''Listen, have you crossed 'Haji misthanno Vandar' shop?'

'No dear, I am now on the main road. Why?'

'Actually, bring some sweets from there. We have dawat at home. Remember? I want to serve some sweets for the guest.''Sure, Your command is my wish.' Hamza didn't realize that a track was coming frantically toward him. As he was nearing his neighborhood, he saw a truck approaching from the opposite direction. Suddenly, the track swerved and hit him head-on, causing his car to spin out of control and crash into a nearby tree.

As Hamza slowly regained consciousness, he felt a sharp pain in his head and a dull ache in his limbs. His vision was blurry, and he struggled to focus on his surroundings. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Sarah sitting beside him, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Hamza! Thank God. you're awake! I thought I was going to lose you," Sarah exclaimed, relief clear in her voice.

Hamza tried to speak, but his throat felt dry and scratchy. He motioned for water, and Sarah quickly brought him a glass.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

Hamza took a sip of water before responding. "I'm...I'm okay. What happened?"

Sarah explained that he had been in a car accident and that she had been by his side ever since he was brought to the hospital. She told him he was lucky to have only sustained minor injuries and would be discharged soon.

Over the next few days, Hamza's condition improved, and he was eventually discharged from the hospital. Sarah helped him back home, and they spent the next week together as he recovered. Soon he returned to his normal routine.

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During his prolonged stay at home, Hamza noticed a gradual deterioration in his mother's attitude toward his wife Sarah. He was baffled by this unexpected behavior and struggled to comprehend how to reconcile the two. Despite his efforts to repair their relationship, nothing seemed to work. One evening, as he arrived home from work, Hamza overheard a conversation between Sarah and her mother.

"I'm genuinely concerned about your future, Sarah," Sarah's mother said.

"Why, mom? I'm perfectly fine," Sarah replied.

"Don't you see? Your mother-in-law despises you. I know Hamza loves you and takes good care of you, but what if something happens to him? His accident has me worried sick. I can't help but imagine what would happen to you if he died."

"Mom, please don't say such terrible things," Sarah pleaded.

"I'm only trying to be realistic. You won't have anywhere to go, and you have no security. You know I'm living at your uncle's house and how they treat me. I don't want the same fate for you," her mother said, tears streaming down her face.

Hamza's heart raced as he listened to their conversation. Sarah's mother had a valid point, and he realized he had neglected an essential aspect of their future. He felt a strong urge to rectify this.

The next day, he sought legal counsel and requested documents to transfer ownership of their house to Sarah, without her knowledge. He knew Sarah would object, but he was determined to secure her future, come what may.

It took several days to finalize the paperwork. Hamza signed the documents, sealed them in an envelope, and wrote Sarah's name on it. He left it on the kitchen counter, keeping the news to himself, aware that it would spark controversy and arguments. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

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Hamza's car screeched to a halt as he pulled up to his home. The watchman was nowhere in sight, and his confusion only grew as he noticed the front door wide open. He cautiously stepped inside, his heart pounding with a foreboding sense that something was terribly wrong. As he made his way through the house, senses on high alert, he heard a faint noise coming from his mother's room. Drawing nearer, he braced himself for the worst.

"Who are you?" Hamza demanded, striding into the room to see two strangers standing over his mother's lifeless body. His heart lurched in his chest at the sight before him.

One of the men turned to him with a grim look. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered under his breath, not addressing Hamza directly.

Hamza's gut clenched with a mix of grief and fury as he knelt beside his mother's body, his fingers trembling as he reached for her wrist. There was no pulse. "Ma," he whispered hoarsely, tears clouding his vision. He looked up at the strangers, who seemed equally startled by his sudden appearance.

Realizing the danger he was in, Hamza's mind raced. Before he could react further, the men moved swiftly, overpowering him. They bound his hands and feet, leaving him on the floor next to his mother's body.

As Hamza struggled against the ropes, his thoughts turned to Sarah. He knew he had to find her and call for help. He looked around the room, desperate for something he could use to free himself. His eyes landed on a small knife on the nightstand, and with great effort, he managed to grab it and start cutting through the ropes.

Once free, Hamza rushed out of the room, fear gripping him as he searched for his wife. He found her in their bedroom, with one of the men standing menacingly nearby.

"Stay away from my wife!" Hamza shouted, charging at the man with the knife.

The man turned just in time to block Hamza's attack, but not before Sarah made her move. Instead of helping Hamza, she stepped back, her expression cold and calculating.

Hamza paused, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Sarah, what are you doing? Call the police!" he urged, still focused on defending them both.

But Sarah didn't move to help. Instead, she addressed the man calmly, "You should have done your job properly. Now, it's all a mess."

Hamza froze at her words, the realization slowly dawning on him. "You... you were part of this?"

Sarah's eyes met his, devoid of any warmth. "Yes, my dear husband. I am a murderer. I have already murdered seven men before you."

Hamza's heart sank as her words cut through him like a knife. "How could you do this? We trusted each other!" he cried out, his voice cracking.

Sarah's tone was icy as she responded, "Trust? That was never part of the deal. You were just a means to an end."

Hamza could hardly believe what he was hearing. "What about everything we've been through together? Our marriage, our life?"

Sarah shrugged. "I did what I had to do to survive. You were just another step in the plan."

As he lay there, struggling to breathe, he realized that everything he had believed in was a lie. The woman he had loved was a heartless killer, and he was just another victim in her twisted game.

"I loved you, Sarah," Hamza said, looking up at her.

"I know, and believe me, I loved you too. You are the sweetest among my other husbands. But, what can I do? I love your money more than you," Sarah said with a wicked smile.

As he tried to comprehend the betrayal, she turned her attention back to the man in the room. "Finish what you started. We don't have much time."

The man hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the direction things were taking. "But what about our payment?" he asked, glancing nervously at Sarah.

Sarah's expression hardened. "You'll get what you're owed when the job is done. But don't push your luck. If you fail me now, you'll regret it."

The man swallowed hard and nodded, understanding the unspoken threat in her words.

As Sarah reached for the door, Hamza, despite his injuries, managed to summon the strength to intercept her. He stood in her way, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and determination.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, his voice weak but resolute.

Sarah's cold demeanor faltered as she met his gaze. "Move, Hamza," she hissed, trying to push past him, but he stood his ground.

"You can't just walk away from this," Hamza continued, his tone low and filled with the pain of betrayal. "Not after everything you've done."

Sarah's expression twisted with frustration. She moved to force her way past him, but Hamza caught her arm with the firmness of a man who would not be easily brushed aside.

"You can't leave like this." Hamza's voice trembled as he spoke. "You have to pay for your actions."

In that moment, one of Sarah's accomplices, seeing the confrontation escalating, moved in to strike Hamza from behind. Hamza sensed the movement and instinctively turned, just in time to deflect the blow. In the ensuing struggle, Hamza fought back, driven by the need to protect himself and seek justice for his mother.

The struggle was fierce but brief. Hamza, despite his wounds, managed to disarm the attacker, though he was clearly outnumbered. As Sarah saw her plan unraveling, panic overtook her.

"You won't get away with this," Hamza warned, his breath labored, but his spirit unbroken.

Realizing that the situation was slipping out of her control, Sarah made a desperate attempt to flee. Hamza, though weakened, summoned all his remaining strength to pursue her, determined not to let her escape the consequences of her actions.

But just as he caught up to her, another accomplice struck him from behind. The force of the blow sent him crashing to the ground, his vision darkening as he fought to stay conscious.

With that, she walked out, her demeanor cold and composed as she left her husband bleeding on the floor, the sound of her footsteps echoing ominously through the house.

As she made her way to the car, Sarah couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment. Another chapter closed, another game played to its conclusion. She knew there would be consequences, but for now, she was focused on one thing: escaping before it all caught up with her.

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Two weeks had passed since Hamza's departure, and Hasna's patience was wearing thin. Every day, she waited for him to return, clinging to the hope that he would walk through the front door and... But she no longer knew what to think. She didn't even understand why she was feeling this way.

Each day slipped by without a word from him, without a sign of his return. She was left alone with her thoughts, drowning in the silence of their home.

Khala, her constant companion, had been teaching her to sew and cook new dishes, trying to keep her occupied. But even as she tried to immerse herself in these new skills, Hamza was never far from her thoughts. Her heart grew heavier with each passing day, and she found herself checking her phone constantly, hoping for a message, a call—anything. But there was nothing. She began to fear that he might never return.

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Hasna was busy sewing a hijab for Khala when she heard the distant sound of a car approaching. At first, she thought she was imagining it, but the noise grew louder, unmistakable. She stopped sewing, listening intently, her heart beginning to race. Could it be Hamza?

She dropped her sewing and rushed to the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest.

Finally, she saw him. He was standing there, talking to Khala. The sight of him brought a flood of emotions she couldn't contain.

For a moment, she froze, caught between disbelief and longing. She had missed him so much, but she also felt an urge to ignore him, to keep him from knowing the hold he had on her. She tried to push these feelings aside, but they were too strong to ignore. A smile slowly spread across her face, despite her best efforts to remain aloof. All the emotions she had bottled up for weeks came rushing back. She wanted to be angry, to demand an explanation, but all she could do was stand there, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and hope.

Her eyes locked onto Hamza's, searching for answers. The air between them grew heavy with unspoken words as they stood facing each other.

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