chapter 11
1304 Words
The next day, Zulfishan kept thinking about the attack and Aabi’s words. She hadn’t slept well. Every sound outside made her flinch. But there was no time to rest — too much was happening around her.
At work, she sat at her desk, trying to focus, when someone placed a cup of tea in front of her.
She looked up — it was Salman.
“Thought you could use this,” he said with a soft smile.
“Thanks,” she replied, taking the cup but not smiling back.
He pulled a chair closer. “You didn’t answer my calls last night.”
“I needed space.”
He looked a little hurt. “Zulfi… I know things are complicated, but I still care about you.”
She didn’t respond.
After a pause, he added, “You used to talk to me. Trust me. I want to be that person for you again.”
Zulfishan finally looked at him, eyes firm. “Trust is not a switch you turn on and off. It’s earned. And right now, I don’t know who to trust — not even you.”
Salman leaned back, visibly affected, but didn’t argue. “I’ll wait. Just… be careful.”
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Later that day, Zulfishan went through Mehreen’s old drawer in the office, hoping to find anything she’d missed.
Inside a forgotten corner, under a pile of dusty folders, she found a tiny silver locker key.
Her heart skipped.
It had an old tag: Storage Unit 16 – Level B2.
She waited until most people had left the building. Quietly, she made her way down the stairs to the basement level.
The hall was dim and cold.
She found Locker 16, inserted the key, and opened it.
Inside was a small metal box.
She opened it slowly — inside were:
A stack of photos with Azfar and a woman who looked like Mawra
A USB drive
A voice recorder
And a letter — written in Mehreen’s handwriting
She sat down on the cold bench, heart pounding, and hit play on the recorder.
> “If you’re listening to this… I didn’t make it. I tried to stay quiet, but the truth is bigger than I imagined. Azfar isn’t working alone. There’s someone close to us… someone we trusted. Watch Mawra. And watch… the one who walks in two faces.”
Zulfishan paused the tape.
What did she mean?
Mawra? Someone else too?
She opened the USB files on her phone — they contained financial transactions, names, photos of documents, and pictures of Azfar meeting someone in secret.
And one of those pictures… included Salman.
Her hands went cold.
---
Just then, she heard footsteps echoing outside the locker room.
She quickly hid the box, locked the door again, and stepped out into the hallway.
There, in the dim light — stood Salman.
He looked startled to see her.
“I thought you left,” he said.
“I was just… checking old files.”
“At this hour?”
“I could ask the same,” she said carefully.
He smiled awkwardly. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Their eyes met. A long silence.
Zulfishan felt her chest tighten. She didn’t know what to believe anymore.
---
That night, in her room, she replayed the voice note again.
> “…watch the one who walks in two faces.”
She looked at the printed photo of Salman with Azfar. It looked like an old meeting — maybe just once.
But then… why was he there?
And why was he always around when something strange happened?
Zulfishan didn’t want to believe it. Not Salman.
But she had learned the hard way — anyone could betray you.
Even those who once made you feel safe.
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Zulfishan stared at the printed photo again. Salman and Azfar. It didn’t make sense. Maybe it was an old meeting. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
But maybe… it wasn’t.
She had learned by now that trust without proof was dangerous.
So instead of asking questions, she made a plan.
She would set a trap.
The next day, she acted normal. At the office, she smiled at Salman and even laughed once or twice, pretending things were fine.
“Feeling better?” he asked gently.
“Much better,” she replied, “Thanks for always checking on me.”
His face lit up with that familiar warmth. It almost made her doubt herself again.
But she pushed that feeling aside.
After lunch, she approached him again.
“There’s something I found,” she said in a quiet voice. “In Mehreen’s drawer. I think it could be important… about Azfar.”
Salman leaned in quickly. “What did you find?”
She hesitated. “I can’t talk here. Meet me after work, near the café two blocks down. There’s a park behind it. I’ll bring everything.”
“Of course,” Salman said. “I’ll be there.”
He looked almost… excited.
Zulfishan walked away calmly. But inside, her heart raced.
She wasn’t actually going to bring the real evidence.
She had already hidden the box and USB safely at home.
At exactly 6:45 p.m., Zulfishan reached the park. It was quiet, with only a few people sitting on benches, and streetlights just beginning to flicker on.
She waited behind a tree near the path, half-hidden by shadows.
A few minutes later, Salman appeared — but he wasn’t alone.
He had his phone to his ear, speaking fast. “She says she found something… Yes, Mehreen’s stuff… No, she didn’t show it yet… She’ll bring it now…”
Zulfishan’s breath caught.
Who was he talking to?
She stepped back silently, hiding in the bushes. Her hands were shaking.
Salman stopped walking. “Yes, I’ll take care of it. She trusts me.”
Those words hit her like ice.
He ended the call, looked around — and then took out a small folded paper from his jacket. He placed it under a nearby bench and walked away quickly, checking his phone again.
Zulfishan waited until he was gone.
Then she stepped forward and pulled out the paper.
It had a location written on it, a time, and a message:
“Deliver the drive. Don’t fail this time.”
Her world tilted.
Salman had lied.
He was involved.
Not just once, not by accident. He was delivering information — possibly to Azfar, or worse.
Zulfishan sat down on the bench, holding the paper in her hand.
Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t cry.
She felt fury, not sorrow.
All this time… all those gentle words… that fake concern…
It was all a mask.
Back at home that night, she called Aabi.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
“I’m on my way,” he replied, not asking a single question.
When he arrived, she handed him the note and told him everything.
He listened silently, then looked up at her.
“You’re brave,” he said. “You trusted your gut.”
“I feel stupid,” she said.
“You were never stupid. You just hoped someone wasn’t what they seemed. That’s human.”
He placed a hand on her arm. “But now you know. And now we fight smarter.”
Zulfishan nodded slowly. “It’s not just about me anymore. Mehreen died trying to warn us. I won’t let her voice be forgotten.”
Later that night, as Aabi left, he turned back at the door.
“You still trust me?” he asked softly.
Zulfishan looked at him — into his eyes.
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
But inside her heart, a small voice whispered:
“What if I’m wrong again?”
" What if aabi is also betraying me? I don't know who to trust?"
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- Writer
