“Between sin and love…”

#"Between sin and love, Diab was sinking slowly." 🥃

Jihan answered in a tense voice, "A witness? Who are you?"

The unknown voice replied, "I'll call you again. But don't involve the police in this—otherwise, you'll never reach me."

Before she could respond, the call abruptly ended.

She stared at the phone, realizing the line had been cut. She remained standing, overwhelmed by a storm of thoughts, barely able to process what had just happened.

Her eyes fell on the photograph she had set aside, but before she could reach for it, the door opened and Nihad entered—bringing along a girl Jihan didn't recognize.

Nihad spoke softly, "Jihan… this is Marwa's friend."

Jihan greeted her gently, "You're welcome here."

The girl stepped forward, her eyes brimming with tears. "My deepest condolences… May God replace her presence with patience in your hearts."

Jihan glanced at Nihad and said, "Sweetheart, please get something for our guest to drink while I speak with her."

Nihad nodded and left the room, and Jihan motioned for the guest to sit.

She looked at her and asked, "What's your name?"

The girl answered, "Siham."

Jihan offered a faint smile. "Siham… we still don't know what really happened to my sister."

She swallowed hard, eyes already filling with tears. "Do you know anything? Even the smallest detail—it might help us."

Siham hesitated for a few seconds, then looked at Jihan and replied in a low voice, "No… I don't know anything. We only heard the news from the neighbors. You know how quickly bad news spreads…"

Jihan took out her phone and offered her number. "It's alright. Take my number. If you remember anything—even if it seems insignificant—please tell me. It could be the key to something important."

Siham nodded. "I will."

————————————————

Night had fallen, and the house was filling with mourners. The news had spread fast.

Jihan helped her aunt with the guests, even though her heart was burning and her body barely held her upright.

She felt like she was moving without a soul, everything around her spinning in slow, heavy motion.

As the crowd grew and the house echoed with weeping and whispers, Jihan felt suffocated.

She slipped away to her room, closed the door behind her, opened the window, and leaned out, desperate for air.

That's when she saw him.

Diab.

He was sitting in his car, parked just a short distance from the house.

She frowned. "What is he doing here?"

Throwing something over her shoulders, she walked toward him.

As soon as he saw her approaching, he stepped out of the car.

She asked, confused, "What are you doing here?"

Diab replied, clearly nervous, "I… came to talk to you."

She raised a brow. "About what?"

He spoke quietly, "I heard about your sister. I came to offer my condolences. May God have mercy on her."

Jihan stared at him for a few moments, noting how different his tone was—calm, quiet, regretful.

The edge in her expression softened just slightly.

"Thank you."

She turned to leave, but paused and looked over her shoulder.

"You can join the mourners. The men's side is open."

He shook his head. "No need… don't worry about me. I just wanted to say… be strong."

After a brief silence, she said, "I will be strong—for my sister. For the life that was stolen from her. I won't rest… this fire inside me won't die until I find whoever did this to her… and they pay."

Diab hesitated. "But… how do you know this wasn't suicide?"

She stared at him sharply. "What are you saying?"

She stepped closer. "What are you trying to say?"

He hesitated again. "What if… what if your sister took her own life?"

Jihan's body trembled. "Stop. Don't say it."

She stepped back two paces, her voice tight with emotion. "I know my sister. Marwa would never do that. She had no reason to. Do you understand?"

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to offend you."

Jihan exhaled. "Anyway… thank you."

She turned and walked back toward the house, while Diab remained standing, visibly frustrated.

Then he got into his car and drove off, speeding into the night.

—————————————————

⏳ Three days later…

Jihan and her family sat in the commissioner's office.

The commissioner began, "First of all, our condolences. Second, I called you in today to inform you that the results of your daughter's autopsy are in. I'm not sure if you're ready to hear this… but as her family, you deserve to know how she died."

Jihan answered firmly, "We want to know."

Her parents remained silent, staring blankly into space. Their bodies were present, but their souls seemed far away.

The commissioner continued, "The deceased died from a blow to the back of the head. We believe she was struck with a heavy glass object. We found glass fragments in the area of the wound."

Jihan looked at him, shocked. "Are you saying… this was murder?"

"We can't confirm that yet. It could be a murder… or it could be suicide."

Her mother's voice trembled. "Suicide? Why would my daughter kill herself?"

Jihan interrupted, "But… you said the blow was to the back of her head…"

"It's possible she fell from a high place—from a cliff—and hit her head before falling into the sea. We found no signs of prior assault, only some cuts caused by the rocks in the water."

Her father finally spoke, "Sir, we know our daughter well. She would never do that. She was fine—happy. We had just returned from a lovely family outing in the forest that day…"

The commissioner paused, then added with hesitation, "Unfortunately… there's one more thing."

He fell silent for a moment, then continued:

"She was pregnant."

Everyone froze.

And then, as if in unison, they cried out:

"What?!"

The mother spoke, her eyes brimming with tears:

"Oh my God… pregnant? Sir, are you sure you're talking about my daughter Marwa?"

Jihan remained silent, stunned, unable to process what she had just heard.

The commissioner replied in an official tone:

"Unfortunately, yes. I'm referring to the late Marwa. She was pregnant—four weeks along."

The father barely managed to stay on his feet. With difficulty, he gathered himself, stood up, and left the office silently, dragging a heavy weight behind him—shame clouding his face, avoiding everyone's eyes.

The commissioner continued, addressing the room despite the father's exit:

"She was young and unmarried. It's clear you didn't know about the pregnancy. That's why… suicide is still one of the active possibilities."

Jihan's voice trembled as she replied:

"I'm certain my sister didn't take her own life. Yes, she might've hidden it, maybe even lied… but she was strong. She would never abandon herself like that."

The commissioner responded calmly:

"We're still in the process of investigation. God willing, the truth will come to light soon."

Jihan straightened herself, forcing composure:

"Thank you. We trust you… and the justice system."

She helped her mother to her feet—her body was numb, still in shock.

They left the office together, but didn't find the father outside. They assumed he had gone home ahead of them and followed.

When they arrived at the house, the door opened, and Aunt Fatima appeared, her face lined with concern and irritation.

Jihan asked,

"Has my father come back?"

Fatima replied,

"Yes, he's here. He went straight to his room and said he wants to be alone."

Jihan paused, staring at her aunt silently, while her mother slumped into a chair, still overwhelmed by shock.

Fatima looked at them both and said with agitation:

"What did my brother just say? That the girl was pregnant?!"

A heavy silence settled over them. No one responded.

Fatima raised her voice:

"And where were you all? Dead?!"

She turned to the mother and said sharply:

"Your daughter lived with you, was pregnant—and you didn't notice anything?!"

Jihan stepped forward, her tone firm:

"Auntie, this isn't the time for that."

Fatima snapped:

"You be quiet! I'm not talking to you!"

Then she turned back to the mother, who was crying in silence, and continued:

"Your husband leaves at dawn for work, comes home late just to sleep, leaving you to raise the girls—and what did you do?! This is just what's surfaced… God knows what else is hidden!"

Jihan approached her mother, helped her to stand, then turned to her aunt with a sharp glare:

"Enough! Her daughter just died, and you have the nerve to talk to her like that? Have some mercy. Fear God in her pain!"

She whispered to her mother:

"Come on, Mama… rest a bit. Take your medication."

She led her mother to her room and gently closed the door behind them.

She helped her into bed as she sobbed quietly, heartbroken.

Jihan stood at the door, her back pressed against it, eyes shut tightly, holding back her own tears.

Outside the room, Fatima was still ranting to herself:

"This is what they call parenting? One gets pregnant, the other yells at me and raises her voice? I deserve this—I came here on my own two feet!"

At that moment, the father sat on his bed, hearing every word from the hallway.

He cried silently, devastated over the daughter he lost too soon, and crushed by the other who had brought his head low with shame.

After making sure her mother had fallen asleep, Jihan quietly stepped out and went upstairs to Marwa's room—now empty, since Nihad was away at school.

She began searching through Marwa's things—her clothes, her school bag.

She rifled through drawers, checked the closet… nothing.

Then she remembered the photograph.

She returned to search for it again—but it was gone.

She froze in place, heart racing.

"Where could it have gone?!"

———————————————

⏳ A Day Later

Diab was sitting beside a grave, holding a bouquet of flowers. He gently placed it on the grave before him, then sat in silence for several minutes.

Diab (in a low voice):

"I don't know what to say to you…

I never thought I'd live to regret something I did…

But this time…" (he pauses)

"I'm full of regret… deep regret."

(He looks at Marwa's grave)

"I think… my punishment has already begun… because…"

(His eyes redden as he holds back tears)

"I think… I started to care…"

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence behind him. He turned around in surprise and found Jihan standing there.

She walked closer, her expression confused:

"What are you doing here? And how did you know this is my sister's grave?"

He responded, clearly unsettled:

"I came to visit my father's grave… may he rest in peace.

I was on my way out when I noticed this grave and realized it belonged to your sister…

I'm sorry."

Jihan gave a soft smile:

"It's alright… thank you. And I'm sorry—I didn't know your father had passed away. May God have mercy on him."

He nodded gently:

"Ameen… I'll leave you now."

He walked away slowly, and Jehan watched him until he disappeared from sight, then turned her gaze back to her sister's grave.

Meanwhile, Diab stood quietly behind a nearby tree, watching her from a distance.

Jihan sat beside the grave, gently brushing her fingers over the soil. Her voice was barely a whisper:

Jihan :

"My beloved sister… I came.

I don't know if I should be angry at you for hiding everything from me…

But… I wish you had just told me.

I was always the one who listened to you."

(She wipes away her tears)

"But that won't stop me from finding the truth…

I won't stop—until I get justice for you… and your child."

She stood up, recited a few verses from the Quran, then left the cemetery, walking slowly, lost in thought.

She had asked Nihad about the missing photo, but Nihad had denied seeing it.

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. A realization struck her—

She remembered that Siham had also been in Marwa's room that day.

Jihan (thinking):

"Siham … she must know something. She's the one who took the photo."

She looked around for a taxi, but the street was empty, and the area was close to the woods.

She stood waiting, when a suspicious-looking man started walking toward her.

She began to walk away.

He followed.

She quickened her pace—

So did he.

Then she broke into a run—

He chased after her and quickly caught up, pulling a knife and pressing it against her side.

The thief:

"Give me everything you've got."

Jihan (nervously):

"Okay… okay, just don't hurt me."

She quickly removed her bag and handed it to him.

But before he could run—

Diab appeared from behind, grabbed the thief's arm, and shoved him away from Jihan.

Diab (stepping in front of her):

"Step back."

Thief (aggressively):

"Who do you think you are?! Acting all tough?"

Diab:

"Give her the bag and walk away… or I'll make sure you regret it."

Thief:

"Come closer if you dare."

Jihan (whispering, terrified):

"Just let him go…"

The thief turned to run, but Diab chased him down, caught him, and retrieved the bag.

As people began peeking from their windows, the thief panicked. In desperation, he stabbed Diab in the shoulder with his knife and fled.

Diab stumbled back, clutching his bleeding arm. He sat on the ground, the bag still in his hand.

Jihan rushed to him, stunned:

"Oh God… he stabbed you!"

Diab (gritting his teeth):

"It's nothing. Just a scratch."

She knelt beside him, held his arm carefully, and insisted:

"We're going to a doctor. Now."

He stood, looking at her with a faint smile as she helped him up and tried to flag down a taxi, panic written all over her face.

At that moment, Diab glanced toward the thief, who was hiding nearby, watching them.

Diab gave him a sharp look—then motioned with his hand.

The thief understood… and disappeared.

To be continued…[ It seems like Diab is planning something… Stay tuned!]🔥