After some more conversation, Ibrahim and Sahriar headed back to their car.
They drove back to the company in silence.
As soon as they arrived, Sahriar walked straight to his office and sat behind his desk.
His mind was still occupied with the scene he had witnessed earlier.
Sahriar sat quietly in his chair, but the image of Zimal smiling at that man refused to leave his mind.
He had attended countless meetings and dealt with hundreds of people, yet he had never cared about who spoke to whom.
Then why was he thinking about it now?
Why did it bother him?
The more he tried to ignore it, the more irritated he became.
A few moments later, Ibrahim entered the office.
”Sahriar Sikander,” he called.
Sahriar looked up.
”Sir, Madam Zimal already told you that he’s just her friend.
Why are you so obsessed with him?”
Sahriar’s expression darkened.
”If he’s just a friend, then why were they smiling at each other like that?”
Ibrahim stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.
”Now you even have a problem with Madam Zimal smiling with another guy?”
He crossed his arms and smirked.
”Sir, I think you’ve completely lost your mind over Madam Zimal.”
Sahriar glared at him, but for once, he had no reply,
Sahriar Sikander: “So, did you find any clues?”
Ibrahim: “Not yet, sir.
But I did find something unusual.”
Sahriar looked up from the file in his hand.
Sahriar Sikander: “What is it?”
Ibrahim: “Farhan—the man who died.
I think he had some connection to Madam Zimal’s past.
Maybe he knew her very well.”
A frown appeared on Sahriar’s face.
Sahriar Sikander: “And how did you come to that conclusion?”
Ibrahim: “We searched his house.
At first, everything looked normal.
But there was one room that seemed different.”
Sahriar put the file aside and gave Ibrahim his full attention.
Sahriar Sikander: “Continue.”
Ibrahim: “The room was filled with information about Miss Zimal.
There were photographs of her from different years, copies of documents, records, and even details about her daily routine.
It looked like someone had been watching her for a very long time.”
For a moment, the office fell silent.
Sahriar’s jaw tightened.
Sahriar Sikander: “You’re telling me that Farhan had an entire room dedicated to Zimal?”
Ibrahim: “Yes, sir.”
Sahriar’s eyes narrowed.
Sahriar Sikander: “Did you find anything that explains why?”
Ibrahim: “No, sir.
Not yet.
But whoever Farhan was, he wasn’t just curious about her.
This level of information isn’t normal.”
Sahriar leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.
For years, he had kept an eye on Zimal’s safety from a distance.
He knew about her education, her work, and some parts of her past.
But what Ibrahim was describing was completely different.
It sounded like an obsession.
A dangerous one.
Sahriar Sikander: “So, besides me, there was someone else obsessed with Zimal.”
Ibrahim: “Sir…”
Sahriar Sikander: “What?”
Ibrahim: “The difference is that you’re trying to protect her.”
A faint smirk appeared on Sahriar’s face.
Sahriar Sikander: “Is that what you think?”
Ibrahim: “I know it.”
Sahriar didn’t reply.
Instead, he turned his chair toward the large glass window behind his desk.
Something about the entire situation felt wrong.
Farhan was dead.
Yet the questions surrounding him were only increasing.
And somehow, every answer seemed to lead back to Zimal.
Meanwhile…
Zimal was sitting comfortably on the couch in her living room, talking to Afifa on the phone.
Zimal: “Afifa, I miss you.”
Afifa: “Miss me?
That’s surprising.”
Zimal: “I’m serious.
You haven’t even called to ask how I’m doing.”
Afifa: “And whose fault is that?”
Zimal: “Mine?”
Afifa: “No.
Sahriar Sikander’s.”
Zimal laughed.
Zimal: “What did he do now?”
Afifa: “What didn’t he do?
That man has a ghost on his head.
He’s trying to finish five years of pending work in one week.”
Zimal shook her head.
Zimal: “That sounds like him.”
Afifa: “You have no idea.
Everyone in the office is suffering.”
Zimal: “Poor people.”
Afifa: “Poor people?
You’re the lucky one.
At least you escaped.”
A smile appeared on Zimal’s lips.
Zimal: “Not really.
Even after leaving the company, he still somehow manages to involve me in his problems.”
Zimal: “Don’t say nonsense.”
Afifa: “I’m serious.”
Zimal: “And I’m ending this conversation before you say something even more ridiculous.”
Both girls laughed.
For a few moments, everything felt normal.
Peaceful.
Neither of them knew that while they were joking and laughing, someone was secretly uncovering pieces of a past that had remained buried for years.
And when that past finally came to light, nothing would remain the same.
Zimal ended the call with a smile on her face.
However, the smile slowly faded when her eyes landed on the letter and the diary lying on her bed.
The memories she had been trying so hard to ignore suddenly returned.
Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the bed and picked up the diary.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened it.
The very first page carried only one name.
Zimal.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Without reading any further, she immediately closed the diary and locked it inside a drawer.
She wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
What if it contained something about Zaroon?
What if it revealed truths she had spent years trying to bury?
The pain she had hidden deep inside her heart began to surface once again.
For years, she had convinced herself that the wounds had healed.
But now she realized they had never truly disappeared.
They had merely been sleeping.
And now, they were awake again.
Feeling suffocated by her thoughts, Zimal stood up.
She needed air.
She needed to escape the walls that suddenly felt too small around her.
Without thinking, she left the house.
In her disturbed state, she didn’t even notice that her phone was still lying on the bed.
The evening streets were unusually quiet.
There were only a few streetlights illuminating the road.
Zimal walked aimlessly, her mind lost in a storm of memories.
She wanted to tell him everything.
She wanted to reveal the truth.
But she couldn’t.
Because the moment she did, the past she had fought so hard to leave behind would come crashing back into her life.
And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to face it again.
Lost in thought, she suddenly felt something strange.
A chill ran down her spine.
It felt as if someone was behind her.
Watching her.
Following her.
Her steps slowed.
Her heartbeat quickened.
She wanted to turn around.
She wanted to see who it was.
But fear held her back.
What if someone really was there?
The feeling grew stronger.
Without looking back, Zimal started walking faster.
Then faster.
Soon, she was almost running.
The sound of her footsteps echoed through the empty street.
Her breathing became uneven.
Her heart pounded violently against her chest.
And then—
Bang!
She crashed into someone.
The impact nearly knocked her off balance.
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders before she could fall.
For a moment, everything went still.
Zimal slowly looked up.
And the moment she saw who was standing in front of her, her eyes widened in shock.
It was a personal matter.
A matter she couldn’t allow anyone to interfere with.
Not even him.
Sahriar Sikander: “And if it is your personal matter, then tell me.”
His voice was calm but firm.
Sahriar Sikander: “Because, whether you like it or not, it concerns you.
And anything related to you is important.”
For a second, Zimal stared at him.
Zimal (in her mind): Wait…
was he hearing my thoughts or something?
Zimal: “Mr.
Sikander…”
Sahriar Sikander: “Zimal.”
His voice pulled her back from her thoughts.
Sahriar Sikander: “Are you here?
You’ve been staring into space for the last few minutes.”
Only then did she realize how distracted she had been.
Strangely, the fear she had felt moments ago began to fade.
For the first time since leaving the house, she felt safe.
Safe because he was here.
Zimal: “Yes, I’m okay.”
After a brief pause, she looked around the empty street before turning back to him.
Zimal: “But, sir…
what are you doing here so late at night?”
Sahriar folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.
Sahriar Sikander: “I should be asking you that question.”
Zimal immediately looked away.
And that was all the answer Sahriar needed.
Something was wrong.
Sahriar Sikander ” is everything is okay”
Sahriar Sikander: “I was here to meet a client.”
Zimal looked at the empty street and raised an eyebrow.
Zimal: “On the street?”
A faint smile appeared on Sahriar’s face.
Sahriar Sikander: “No.
He was at the café nearby.
After the meeting ended, I decided to take a walk before heading back.”
Zimal: “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, sir.”
She looked away.
Zimal: “I came out for a walk as well.”
Sahriar Sikander: “Then shall we walk together?”
For a moment, Zimal hesitated.
Normally, she would have refused.
But tonight felt different.
After a brief pause, she nodded.
Zimal: “Okay.”
The two of them walked side by side.
Neither spoke.
The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried countless unspoken words.
After several minutes, Sahriar finally broke the silence.
Sahriar Sikander: “If there’s something you want to tell me, just tell me.”
Zimal looked at him.
Sahriar Sikander: “I won’t judge you.”
His voice was calm and sincere.
Sahriar Sikander: “And I will never break your trust.”
His words struck something deep inside her heart.
Immediately, the parcel and the diary came to her mind.
The secrets.
The memories.
The past she had been hiding for years.
For a moment, she almost told him everything.
Almost.
But fear stopped her.
What if he looked at her differently afterward?
What if he learned the truth?
Before she could make a decision, Sahriar stopped walking.
Sahriar Sikander: “We’ve reached your house.”
Zimal looked up and realized he was right.
They were standing in front of her gate.
Zimal: “Thank you, sir.”
Sahriar Sikander: “Take care.”
Zimal: “Good night.”
Sahriar Sikander: “Good night, Zimal.”
For a brief second, their eyes met.
Then Sahriar turned and walked back toward his car.
Zimal watched him leave before entering her house.
Once inside, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes.
”Should I tell him?”
”Or should I keep hiding the truth?”
The question followed her all night.
Meanwhile…
Sahriar arrived at his office.
To his surprise, Ibrahim was already there.
The moment Ibrahim saw him, a mischievous smile appeared on his face.
Ibrahim: “So, are you free now?”
Sahriar Sikander: “What are you talking about?”
Ibrahim: “Did you meet her?”
Sahriar narrowed his eyes.
Sahriar Sikander: “Yes.”
Ibrahim: “And how did it go?”
Sahriar Sikander: “Shut up and mind your own business.”
Ibrahim laughed.
Ibrahim: “That’s not a denial.”
Sahriar threw a file at him.
Sahriar Sikander: “Get out.”
The Next Day
Sahriar was sitting in his office, signing several important documents.
A knock sounded on the door.
Assistant: “Sir, Miss Zimal is here.
She wants to see you.”
The pen in Sahriar’s hand stopped moving.
For a second, genuine surprise appeared on his face.
Sahriar Sikander: “Send her in.”
A few moments later, the door opened.
Zimal entered.
She looked nervous.
Much more nervous than usual.
Sahriar immediately noticed it.
She sat down on the sofa across from him.
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
Finally, Zimal took a deep breath.
Zimal: “I wanted to tell you last night.”
Sahriar remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
Zimal tightened her grip on her bag.
Zimal: “But I didn’t have the courage.”
The seriousness in her voice made Sahriar put aside all the files on his desk.
For the first time that morning, he gave her his complete attention.
Sahriar Sikander: “What is it, Zimal?”
Zimal looked into his eyes.
This time, there was no turning back.
Zimal: “What I’m about to tell you started five years ago…”