12. The Reveal

Hasna perplexedly removed her hands from his and said, "What truth are you talking about? I have already told you everything. You know everything about me. You know that I am a mur..."

"Stop lying." Hamza slightly raised his voice. But more than his voice, his expression said it all. Hasna was taken aback. "Why can't you just tell me the truth? Aren't you tired of lying?"

Hamza was beyond angry, yet he maintained his calm and composure. He was tired of hearing her lies every day. She needed to speak the truth. He couldn't understand why she wasn't telling the truth.

Hamza took a deep breath and asked lovingly, "Hasna, I know you haven't killed anyone. Lying is a very big sin. Then why are you displeasing Allah Subhanahu Wa Ta'ala by lying?"

Hasna averted her gaze from him but remained silent.

Hamza once again took her hands in his. He continued, "Tell the truth, Hasna. Admit that you haven't murdered anyone. I will clear your name from all the accusations, inshallah. But you have to tell me the truth. You trust me, right? Don't you?"

There was something in his words that made her look at him, and she regretted it. He was waiting for an answer. He really wanted to know if she trusted him or not.

"You are wrong," she said.

This time, Hamza dropped her hands. He was hurt. He thought that after all this time spent together, they had built some trust in their relationship. But he was wrong.

"So, you don't trust me," he said with a broken smile.

Hasna could clearly see in his eyes that he was deeply hurt. She felt terrible.

"It's okay," she heard him say. "Inshallah, one day you will." Hamza looked at the sky. Hasna was looking at him, feeling the burden of her guilt.

-------------

It was dinner time. Hamza hadn't come out of his study all day. Hasna was getting restless. After that incident, they hadn't spoken at all. She knew she had hurt him, but there was nothing she could do.

She was hesitant to face him, yet she was craving to see him. She was pacing back and forth in front of his study. But when dinner time passed, she decided to go and check on him.

She took some hesitant steps, and mustering some courage, she opened the door. Her eyes immediately fell on him, and she felt relieved. She found him sleeping, slumped over his desk with his head resting on folded arms.

Hasna approached Hamza's sleeping figure with soft, measured steps, not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber. A smile slowly spread across her lips as she gazed upon him, admiring how adorable he looked with his head resting on the study table. She wondered if he was dreaming, as his lips curved into a precious smile. She sat down in front of him, her face cupped in her hands, captivated by his peaceful expression.

However, her joy quickly turned to worry when the folds of concern appeared on his forehead. She felt her own emotions changing in response to his, and as he stirred in his sleep, her heart raced with anxiety. She was relieved when he settled back into a deep sleep, and she carefully covered him with a blanket to keep him warm.

As Hamza's saddened expression gave way to a smile once again, Hasna couldn't resist brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, her heart beating faster at the touch of his skin. However, her attention was drawn to a small piece of paper that fell from his hands, and she bent down to pick it up. Her eyes widened in shock as she read the one line written on the paper.

For a moment, she felt paralyzed as she gazed at the paper, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions. Her hands and feet turned cold as she shifted her gaze between the paper and Hamza, everything suddenly crystal clear to her.

Written on the paper were the words she had written herself: "With hardship comes ease. Trust Allah. He will fix everything."

----------

He could clearly hear everything. He could feel how the ice-cold tiles pricked his skin, how the warmth of his blood could not provide him any warmth at all. "Is this how I am going to die?" This thought terrified him. Death... It arrived... so unexpectedly. He was not prepared for it at all. In his 27 years of life, he never once thought about death. But now, he was going to die at such a young age. He tried to look with his blurry vision. His mother's lifeless body was lying some steps away from him. "Ma..." he tried to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. His eyes shed one drop of tear, although he wanted to cry like a baby, clinging to his mother's chest. Love... He didn't know it would cost him everything. He thought about all the memories he shared with his mother—the way she hugged him, the way she smiled, the way she laughed. Everything felt so distant now. The love he had for her was immeasurable, and now it was all going to end. The love he had for her was the only thing that kept him going all these years. And now, he was going to leave her all alone in this world. He wanted to cry, to shout, to tell her how much he loved her, but he couldn't. The pain was too much to bear. He could feel his life slipping away, slowly but surely. The thought of never seeing his mother again, never hearing her voice, was unbearable.

His thoughts raced as his body lay helpless on the cold floor. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine as the reality of his impending death began to sink in. The last moments of his life felt like an eternity as he lay there in utter despair, surrounded by his mother's lifeless body and the pool of his own blood. Memories flashed before his eyes. Every single moment he had shared with his mother. The laughter, the tears, the love. It all felt like it was just yesterday. But now, she was gone, taken from him in the cruelest way imaginable.

As the life drained out of him, he couldn't help but wonder where it all went wrong. How did he end up here, lying on the floor, facing his own mortality?

He felt as though he had been dealt the harshest blow life could offer. He was consumed by a sense of betrayal and injustice, wondering what he had done to deserve such a fate. But as the darkness began to overtake him, all he could do was surrender. He closed his eyes, accepting his fate. Love had cost him everything. And now, it was time to pay the ultimate price. He regretted every single wrong deed that he had done. He realized that his life was a waste, and it was all going to end like this. In that moment of utter fear and despair, he cried out for forgiveness, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the mud and blood. The weight of his actions and the reality of his impending death hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew it was too late to turn back, but he begged for one last chance, one final chance to make things right. The silence of the room was broken only by his pleas and sobs, echoing in the emptiness of his soul. He was a broken man, lying there in the mud, humbled and regretful, seeking salvation in his final moments.

He remembered at that moment something he had read: We are made of mud, yet we are filled with pride. But when Allah lets us taste our own medicine, we realize there is no difference between mud and us. Maybe being mud is much better when you think of the eternal punishment. While lying on the muddy ground, he was suddenly remembering all this. He realized that it was true. While lying in the mud, he felt there was actually no difference between him and the earth beneath him. But he was scared—terrified of death. He had no good deeds to his name, nothing to present before the King of Kings. All those sins he had committed, thinking he would repent when he was older—what about those?

His thoughts were disrupted by the sound of footsteps. The noise grew louder and closer. He knew it was the end. He closed his eyes and whispered a final prayer, "Allah, I know I haven't lived my life the way I should have. I know I've made mistakes. But I beg of You, give me another chance. Forgive me for my sins. Let me make things right. Please, Allah. I am Your servant. Have mercy on me." He was suddenly cowering in fear. He wanted another chance. Another chance to fix everything. Another chance to repent. Another chance to do good in this world. He was begging Ar-Rahman—the Most Merciful, the Especially Merciful—for another chance. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

It was raining. He was lying on the ground covered in mud. They had already buried his mother's body, and now it was his turn. He could hear footsteps growing louder, more distinct. Then, suddenly, he heard a scream.

"What are you doing here, Hasna?"

Hamza felt a soft female touch on his wrist. "His pulse is still there. He's still alive, Uncle Karim. We have to take him to the hospital," Hasna said urgently.

"Have you gone mad? Do you even know what you're saying? If they find out, they'll bury you alive along with him," Karim responded, his voice filled with panic.

"I don't care. I can't let him die. She killed that lady, and I could do nothing," Hasna broke into tears, her voice trembling with anguish.

-------

Hasna had come to this place seeking freedom from the clutches of her cousin-sister, hoping for a new beginning. Little did she know that she was about to witness a scene so horrifying, it would forever be etched in her memory. As she stood there, her eyes widened in disbelief and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

In front of her, she saw her step-sister committing the unimaginable act of taking her own mother-in-law's life. The room filled with a suffocating silence, broken only by the gasps escaping from Hasna's trembling lips. It was a twisted revelation that unraveled the truth she had been oblivious to all these years. She realized with a sinking feeling that she had unknowingly played a part in her step-sister's sinister schemes, unknowingly aiding her in the murders of innocent men. Every fiber of Hasna's being revolted against this horrifying truth. She felt a profound sense of betrayal, her identity stolen, her innocence used as a pawn in a game of deception and death. The weight of guilt and despair pressed upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. The world she thought she knew shattered into countless fragments, leaving her standing in the midst of a broken reality.

As she struggled to come to terms with the enormity of what she had witnessed, a maelstrom of emotions surged within her. Anger, sorrow, and confusion swirled together, creating a tempest that threatened to engulf her entirely. Hasna's once hopeful heart now felt burdened with an unbearable weight, and she realized that her life would never be the same again.

Hasna fled for her life, heart pounding with fear and shock. She ran as fast as she could, tears streaming down her face, until she found a secluded place to hide. She trembled with fear as she heard her cousin-sister's voice echoing in her mind, reminding her that she was still in danger. Her cousin-sister looked for her everywhere, but when Hamza came, she went to him to finish him off as well.

Hasna cautiously peeked out from her hiding spot, her heart racing with fear and adrenaline. Her eyes fell upon the figure lying on the ground, and she felt a lump form in her throat. Was he still alive? The trembling of his hands seemed to indicate that he was, but she couldn't be sure.

As she began to inch towards him, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Fear coursed through her veins as she quickly ducked back into hiding, her heart pounding in her chest. She watched in horror as two goons approached the man's body and roughly lifted him, carrying him away as if he were nothing more than a lifeless doll.

------------

She was trying to pick him up. He was extremely heavy for her, but still, she was trying her best to lift him. He tried to open his eyes but could not see anything clearly. Karim came forward and tried to stop her.

"Have you gone mad? They will kill you if they see you here. Leave. He is too injured. You can't save him, even if you take him to the hospital."

"I don't care. I am going to take him to the hospital." She started dragging him with her.

"Hasna, those two men—if they see you here, they will kill you."

"I don't care, Uncle Karim. I will die trying to save him. At least I will be free then. But I won't let them bury him alive."

"Why are you risking your life for him, Hasna? Don't be foolish."

"Allah Azza wa Jal says in the Quran that whoever takes a life—except as a punishment for murder or mischief in the land—will be considered to have killed all of humanity, and whoever saves a life will be considered to have saved all of humanity. Besides, I can't bear any more guilt."

Karim understood that Hasna was determined. She was not going to give up. Karim didn't know what to do, but he was certain that he couldn't let Hasna risk her life. So, he helped her carry Hamza off the ground and out of the mansion. He managed to get them into a taxi and quickly returned. When the two men came back, he told them he had already buried the corpse.

--------

At the hospital..

"How are you related to him?" 

"I found him on the streets."

"Oh... please fill out this form."

The nurse gave her a file and a pen to fill out. Hasna took the form, but of course, she was not going to fill it out. She just wanted to flee right then. She was about to leave, but before leaving, she wrote something on a small piece of paper.

"With hardship comes ease. Trust Allah. He will fix everything."

Hasna didn't know why she was writing this for that stranger. But she couldn't help but leave this short message for him, whose life had just become scarred. She knew how it felt to be in immense pain and how, in that fragile moment of life, you want some words of comfort. You want to hear that everything will be alright by the mercy of Allah. You expect someone to remind you that this life is only a test, and all the pains will go away eventually, and Allah will give you so much that all the memories will be gone. But no one ever told her that. Maybe that's why she did what she did.

Then she gave the form and the paper to the nurse and said, "Please hand this note to him when he wakes up. I'm leaving. I don't want to be in any trouble." She said this and quickly left before the cops arrived.

----------

Hamza's surgeries took ages, and finally, the operation was successful. After two days, he regained consciousness. The police tried to contact his family, but none were available. When they went to his house, they found it in complete disarray.

There was blood on the floor and signs of dragging. Hamza had fleeting memories of the girl who had fought for his life, carrying him to the hospital and leaving words of encouragement for him. As he regained consciousness, the weight of his loss pressed down on him, and he could feel his heart breaking all over again. The grief was almost too much to bear, but he was determined to do one thing—find justice for his mother. Despite being on strict bed rest, he was adamant about being present when his mother's body was exhumed. With his best friend by his side, he rolled to the gravesite in a wheelchair, his heart racing as they started to dig. As time passed, and they uncovered his mother's body, he felt the weight of his loss bearing down on him. A lone tear escaped his eyes as he looked at the cold, lifeless body of the woman who had given him life. In that moment, he knew he could not let Sarah go unpunished for her actions. The determination to seek justice burned fiercely within him, and he vowed to do whatever it took to make sure Sarah paid for what she had done.

----------