EPISODE 1
1992 Words
THE HEART OF THE ZADEEN FAMILY
ZADEEN’S HEALTH CENTER & SPECIALIST HOSPITAL
Wednesday — 1:40 A.M.
Before the convoy even reached the hospital’s massive main gate, the security guards had already risen from their seats.
The moment they saw the headlights of the approaching vehicles, several of them rushed toward the entrance and pulled the gate open.
They did it quickly because of the speed at which the Zadeens' vehicles were approaching.
Every employee at Zadeens knew exactly what it meant whenever the family's cars arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night.
It meant that the light of their eyes was not well.
Jannah.
The girl who was almost always fighting for her life.
The remaining security personnel who had not reached the gate in time quickly came out as well. They stood along the entrance, watching the three vehicles enter the compound with respectful eyes.
It was the middle of the night, but nobody complained.
Instead, they silently prayed that Allah would make Jannah well.
As soon as the three vehicles had entered, the gate was immediately closed and locked.
Under normal circumstances, nobody used that particular entrance except the owners of the hospital and members of their family. The Zadeens came through it so frequently that the security personnel already knew what to do without being told.
Before the vehicles had even completely parked, three doctors and two nurses emerged through a private entrance.
That entrance led directly to the VIP section upstairs.
Everything had been prepared.
The moment the vehicles stopped, their doors opened almost simultaneously.
The family members stepped out one after another.
Almost all of them were still wearing their sleeping clothes.
The only exception was DZAD—Dad Zadeen, the patriarch of the Zadeens family and Jannah's father.
He wore a white jalabiya beneath a large ash-colored winter robe, with a simple cap on his head.
The man standing there was a billionaire.
A man whose name alone carried enormous influence.
Yet at that moment, none of his wealth mattered.
He did not look like a billionaire.
He looked like an ordinary father who was desperately searching for help from Allah.
Whenever Jannah's condition became critical, the man who controlled enormous wealth became powerless.
She was not simply his daughter.
She was the very beat of his heart.
A hospital bed was brought forward.
Jannah was already lying on it.
Every part of her body was covered.
Even her face could not be seen.
The family never allowed anyone to see her unnecessarily. Only the doctors directly responsible for her treatment knew what she looked like.
Her privacy and security were treated with absolute seriousness.
The doctors pushed her bed through the private entrance while the family followed behind.
Nobody spoke.
Every heart in the family was beating with fear.
They had the kind of wealth that could make almost anything possible.
There were very few things in this world that the Zadeens could not obtain if they truly wanted them.
But there was one thing money had not been able to give them.
Jannah's life.
Whenever she was in this condition, they forgot everything else.
They forgot business.
They forgot their wealth.
They forgot the outside world.
All that mattered was Jannah.
Their entire world revolved around her.
Even the family's private security team had arrived at the hospital without wearing their usual security uniforms.
They did not want anyone to know that highly important people were being protected inside the hospital.
They quietly surrounded the private entrance and the surrounding corridors, blending into the environment without giving any obvious indication that they were security personnel.
Upstairs, the doctors took Jannah into the treatment room.
Only the doctors were allowed inside.
The rest of the family remained in a large, beautifully furnished private waiting lounge.
Some sat down.
Others remained standing.
Nobody was comfortable.
Nobody was relaxed.
The room was almost completely silent.
The only thing anyone could hear was the occasional movement of someone shifting in their seat or quietly breathing.
Among them was Mimi, the woman who usually possessed the greatest strength whenever Jannah's condition became critical.
Even she was struggling tonight.
She slowly raised her eyes.
They had become soft from exhaustion and fear.
She looked toward Dad Zadeen.
He happened to turn at the same moment.
Their eyes met.
Dad Zadeen's eyes were red.
He slowly released a deep breath and clasped his hands together, trying to warm them against the cold that was running through his body.
But the cold was not what frightened him.
He felt as though his heart itself was being squeezed.
At that moment, he could endure almost anything.
Anything except losing Jannah.
Mimi reached toward him.
She placed both hands over his clasped hands and gently held them.
Then she forced herself to speak.
“Insha Allah, this time we will find the right heart for her,” she said.
Her voice trembled.
“We will find it, Jan. She will live like every other child, Insha Allah.”
She swallowed.
“Jan will become like every other human being. She will receive a good education. She will grow up and become whatever you want her to become, Insha Allah.”
Her voice began to shake.
The strength she had gathered was beginning to disappear.
She stopped speaking.
Her fingers tightened around Dad Zadeen's hands as she lowered her eyes.
Tears were gathering in them.
Dad Zadeen gently held her hands in return.
He said nothing.
Everyone knew him.
Whenever his pain became too deep, he stopped speaking.
Nearby stood Mahir Zadeen, Jannah's older brother.
His wife, Anny, stood beside him, holding his hand and trying to calm him.
She was frightened too.
Whenever they were told that Jannah was not well, Anny became deeply distressed.
She knew how close they had come to losing her.
She also knew that the doctors had already spent a long time searching for a suitable donor.
They needed a heart that would match Jannah's body.
A heart that could be placed inside her chest and give her another chance at life.
Anny eventually left Mahir's side and returned to Mimi.
She sat beside her and gently touched her shoulder.
She whispered words of encouragement and prayers, hoping that the day of Jannah's healing would finally come.
Mahir eventually sat down as well.
He crossed one leg over the other, trying to endure the cold.
He was still wearing his sleeping clothes—a soft, expensive shirt and matching trousers beneath a jacket he had hurriedly thrown over himself.
The clothes were clearly expensive, but tonight he barely noticed them.
The cold seemed to enter directly into his bones.
Across the room, Saleem Zadeen could not sit.
He kept walking back and forth.
His head felt strange, as though something inside it was moving.
He had never been good at waiting.
He hated suspense.
And tonight, the uncertainty was driving him toward the edge.
His eyes were red.
His sleeping clothes were covered by a hoodie jacket, and he kept moving without raising his eyes.
Suddenly, the lounge door opened.
Everyone immediately looked up.
Dr. Ammar Zadeen stood in the doorway.
He had studied cardiology because of Jannah.
His eyes looked more exhausted than anyone else's.
He slowly looked around the room before his eyes settled on Dad Zadeen.
He gave his father a reassuring look.
Then he turned and returned to the room where Jannah was being treated.
Ammar had arrived later than the rest because he had been informed that a possible donor had been found.
He had rushed to the hospital as soon as he received the news.
Nearly two hours passed.
The family waited.
Nobody spoke.
Then the door opened again.
Ammar emerged.
His breathing was heavy.
He looked exhausted.
He walked toward the waiting family and sat in the chair facing his father.
Dad Zadeen lifted his eyes.
The moment he saw Ammar, he quietly released a breath.
His mind seemed to return to him.
He knew Ammar.
If Jannah needed a thousand hearts, Ammar would search for every one of them.
He would keep testing hearts until he found the one that matched her.
No matter what it took.
Ammar looked at his father.
“We found a donor,” he said.
Dad Zadeen remained still.
Ammar continued.
“We have high hopes that the heart will match Jannah.”
Relief passed through the room.
But before Ammar could explain everything, Saleem stepped forward.
“What are we waiting for, then?”
He moved directly toward Ammar.
“If the heart will save Jan, take everything I own if necessary.”
His voice was filled with desperation.
“I don't care where the heart is. I don't care how much it costs. Just make sure you get it and make sure Jan receives it.”
He turned immediately and walked toward Jannah's room.
The door slammed behind him.
Everyone flinched.
Everyone except Dad Zadeen.
He remained still.
He knew Saleem's nature.
Whenever Jannah was involved, Saleem lost patience completely.
Ammar reached inside his jacket and pulled out a file.
He placed it on the table.
Then he leaned back in his chair.
“The donor was found through one of the hospitals where we have our doctors stationed,” he began.
“She is almost the same age as Jannah.”
He paused.
“But there is something you need to know.”
Mahir looked at him.
“She is married,” Ammar said.
Silence.
“She is also pregnant.”
Mahir's expression changed.
Ammar continued.
“She has an old pregnancy. The doctors discovered it during the examination.”
He tapped the file.
“Her heart is healthy. The doctors examined her thoroughly. There is nothing wrong with it.”
Dad Zadeen and Mahir both released a deep breath.
That was the only information they truly needed.
A healthy heart.
A possible match.
Everything else could be handled later.
They had searched for countless donors.
They did not even know the exact number anymore.
People had been considered and rejected through secret channels.
None had been suitable.
Now, after such a long search, they had finally found a possible match.
Dad Zadeen slowly straightened in his chair.
The billionaire's usual composure returned to his face.
“Just tell us when the operation will take place,” he said.
“That is what matters.”
He paused.
“As for everything else, there is no need to worry.”
His voice became firm.
“Tell the doctor treating her at the government hospital to transfer her here immediately. I don't want any delay.”
Mahir reached for the file.
He opened it and looked at the information.
He stared at the donor's name for several seconds.
It meant nothing to him.
Neither did the name of the town where she lived.
He had never heard of the place.
They had not grown up in that part of the country, so the names of remote towns and villages meant little to them.
To Mahir, the place seemed so remote that he could hardly imagine people living there.
He closed the file and placed it on the table.
Then he looked at Dad Zadeen.
“I think it would be better to wait,” he said calmly.
“Since we have already found a suitable heart, and she is pregnant, we should wait until the pregnancy reaches the right stage and use the delivery as the opportunity.”
Ammar stared at him.
Dad Zadeen said nothing.
Mahir was known for this.
Whenever the Zadeens faced complicated situations, especially business matters or anything that required careful judgment, Mahir rarely rushed.
He studied everything.
He measured people.
He considered consequences.
Then he decided.
His judgment was respected throughout the family.
And tonight, he believed waiting was the safest way to obtain what Jannah needed.
But nobody yet knew what that decision would cost them.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD