chapter 20
1693 Words
Zulfishan had barely slept all night.
The message she received the day before echoed in her head:
"You thought it's over? It’s just the beginning."
She sat in her room, holding the small piece of paper that came with a strange package—an empty box with a picture of her father, Arsalan Shah, taken years ago. The smile on his face looked haunting now.
Aabi walked in slowly, his voice gentle. “You didn’t sleep again, did you?”
She looked up at him, eyes tired. “I tried… but it’s all coming back. First Project Echo… and now this?”
Aabi came forward and sat beside her. “Zulfi, it’s over. Azfar is gone. Your stepmother is arrested. The system was destroyed. There’s no way anyone can use the project again.”
She shook her head. “But someone knows something. Someone still wants to hurt me.”
Aabi took her hand. “Then let them try. I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”
His touch gave her comfort, but the fear inside still lingered.
Just then, a message beeped on her phone. Aabi snatched it before she could check.
His face hardened as he read the words:
"Arsalan Shah’s daughter shouldn’t feel safe. You were always part of this. You just didn’t know it."
Aabi clenched his jaw. “That’s it. I’m increasing your security. From now on, you don’t go anywhere alone. Understand?”
Zulfishan nodded, her heart racing.
Meanwhile, Mawra paced the hallway outside, her thoughts tangled. She had noticed Salman acting distant again, ever since Azfar’s arrest.
“Why do you always drift away the moment things get real?” she finally asked him in the lounge that evening.
Salman looked at her, surprised. “Mawra… it’s complicated. I’m trying to fix what I broke.”
“You helped fix Project Echo, you helped save Zulfi… now fix this too,” she said, voice trembling.
Salman hesitated. “I’m not the same guy anymore.”
“Neither am I,” Mawra replied softly, then walked away.
Back in the main lounge, Aabi was on a call with his company’s manager. Ever since things settled down, he had been throwing himself into rebuilding his clothing business.
“I want the autumn collection ready by next month,” he instructed. “And keep the launch under tight security.”
Zulfishan watched him from a distance, a small smile playing on her lips. He looked calm and focused—like the man he used to be before all the chaos. But her smile faded when she noticed something strange.
A black car had been parked across the street for two hours.
She went to the window and stared. The car didn’t move. No one got in or out.
When Aabi joined her, she pointed. “That car’s been there since morning.”
Without saying a word, Aabi stepped outside. He crossed the street and approached the car—but just as he got close, it started and sped away.
He returned, face stiff. “I’ll handle this. But Zulfi… whoever this is, they’re watching closely.”
She lowered her eyes. “What do they want from me now?”
“Your fear,” Aabi answered. “They want you scared again. But we won’t let them win.”
That night, Zulfishan sat with her father’s journal again. Flipping through pages, her fingers stopped at one sentence:
"Some knowledge must die with its creator."
She whispered to herself, “But I didn’t create it… why am I still a part of it?”
In the darkness, a new thought emerged. What if someone else had accessed her father’s backup files? What if Project Echo wasn’t as dead as they thought?
Her eyes widened. She rushed to Aabi’s room, knocking quickly.
He opened the door, shirtless, surprised. “Zulfi?”
She caught her breath. “I remembered something. My father… he saved a backup, not in his office. In a locker. A physical one.”
Aabi grabbed his shirt and keys. “Then let’s find it. Tonight.”
“No. It’s too dangerous. Let’s wait until morning.”
He nodded. Then looked at her, stepping closer. “You’re still scared. You don’t have to hide it.”
She looked up at him. “I don’t want to be scared anymore.”
His arms wrapped around her gently, and for a moment, time froze.
“You’re not alone,” he whispered in her ear.
Just then, her phone buzzed again. She pulled back and looked.
It was a picture. Of her, taken just minutes ago… standing by the window.
Her blood ran cold. “Someone is watching me from close. Very close.”
Aabi's expression darkened. “Then this ends tomorrow.”
---
Aabi’s eyes stayed locked on the picture for several seconds. “This was taken tonight… from this house. Or close to it.”
Zulfishan clutched the phone. “What if someone is inside?”
Aabi moved fast. “Stay here. Lock the door.”
“Aabi—wait!” she called, but he was already halfway down the stairs.
He searched every corner of the house, room by room. The guards had reported nothing unusual. Still, Aabi’s gut said otherwise. Someone had breached their safe space.
When he returned, Zulfishan was still staring at the picture.
“I couldn’t find anything,” he said, frustrated. “But I’ll set up cameras tonight. And I’m calling the security agency first thing tomorrow.”
Zulfishan nodded, eyes heavy with worry. “I don’t feel safe anymore.”
“You’re not alone,” he repeated, sitting beside her. “We’ll end this together.”
A faint knock interrupted them.
They both stiffened.
Aabi walked toward the door slowly, opened it—and paused.
Raheel stood there.
He looked exhausted. His face was drawn, eyes heavy, but he held his hands up in peace. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
Zulfishan stepped forward, tense. “Raheel? What are you doing here?”
“I got a message,” Raheel said quietly. “About you. About your father. Someone wants to drag me back into this mess, and I swear I don’t want to be part of it.”
Aabi narrowed his eyes. “What kind of message?”
Raheel reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded note.
Zulfishan opened it slowly.
The same handwriting. The same tone.
“You lost her once. Don’t lose her again. She belongs to the past.”
Zulfishan’s hands trembled. “It’s the same person… whoever sent mine.”
Raheel sighed. “I came because I care. Even if you’ve moved on. I’m not here to win you back, Zulfishan. I’m here because you’re in danger.”
Aabi looked at him for a long moment. Then surprisingly, he nodded. “Come in.”
Raheel stepped inside hesitantly, and the three of them sat down.
Zulfishan asked, “Do you think this has to do with Project Echo again?”
Raheel frowned. “I don’t know. But someone is clearly trying to unearth secrets. And they’re playing with emotions too.”
Just then, Salman entered from the hallway, seeing the unexpected scene.
He raised an eyebrow. “Raheel?”
Raheel stood. “Yeah. I know. Weird timing.”
Salman shook his head. “Everything about this house has weird timing these days.”
Zulfishan sighed, rubbing her forehead. “There’s a locker. My father hid something there. We need to find it.”
Aabi looked at her. “Do you remember the location now?”
She nodded slowly. “It was near the old electronics store in the basement plaza he used to visit. He once took me there. I never knew why, but now it makes sense.”
“I’ll go with you,” Aabi said immediately.
Raheel added, “So will I. Whether you believe it or not, I want to help.”
Zulfishan hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow morning.”
As the group disbanded, Mawra stood quietly near the stairs, having heard most of the conversation.
She stepped into the kitchen, finding Salman staring blankly at his phone.
“You’re quieter than usual,” she commented, pouring herself a glass of water.
“I don’t like this Raheel guy,” Salman muttered.
Mawra chuckled. “You don’t even like me some days.”
He looked up, guilt flickering in his eyes. “That’s not true.”
“Then prove it. Stop hiding. Stop running. Be present.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I’m trying, Mawra.”
“Then try harder,” she whispered before walking away.
---
The next morning arrived with a cold breeze. Zulfishan, Aabi, and Raheel drove silently to the old plaza. The place was dusty, half-closed, almost forgotten.
They found the shop, long abandoned. Behind it was a locked storage room.
“This is it,” Zulfishan whispered. “He brought me here once.”
Aabi forced the lock open.
Inside was a steel locker, covered in dust and cobwebs. Zulfishan stepped forward and entered the code—her father’s birthdate.
Click.
The locker opened.
Inside was a leather pouch, a small USB drive, and a handwritten letter.
Zulfishan picked up the letter and opened it slowly.
"If you're reading this, it means someone tried to finish what I never wanted completed. Project Echo was never meant to control. It was meant to protect minds—by blocking manipulation. I failed. But you… you can end it right."
Her eyes welled up.
Raheel looked over. “Then maybe someone wants to recreate the old version—the weaponized one.”
Zulfishan nodded slowly. “And they think I’m the key.”
Aabi took her hand. “Then we shut every door they can enter. Together.”
Suddenly, Raheel’s phone buzzed.
He frowned. “Another message.”
He showed it to Zulfishan.
It read:
"Wrong team. Wrong time. You’ll all lose."
Aabi grabbed it. “Let them come.”
Zulfishan stared at the locker. “No… We’ll go to them. On our terms.”
And this time, she wasn’t afraid.
---
- Writer
