The unC.R.I.M.E

Chapter 14

It felt good to be home. I needed that long, warm and loving hug from my mum and dad as we embraced each other in the foyer.

"Come on in, baby," my mother said as she held my hand tightly and led me to the dining room where I saw that they had prepared a whole meal for me.

"Aww, mum, you didn't have to," I said to her. I was feeling really tired and jet lagged but I wouldn't refuse their food. 

"Thank you," I said with a smile as she and my dad pulled out their chairs and sat down and looked at me with wide smiles and happy eyes. 

"So, my baby girl," my father began and I smiled, having missed the sound of his powerful voice, "how has things been?"

My father, Timothy England was a powerful and proud man. He was very intimidating as well, but I promise you, he's literally the biggest teddy bear ever; especially when it comes to his kids and his wife.

He's not the one I'd usually confide in about feelings, of course. He's a bit closed off when it comes to things like that. He's more the one you'd call and talk to about work and ask questions and he'll give the best advice.

"Well," I smiled at my dad as I started to eat the biryani that was prepared for me. There's a story behind biryani being one of my favourite foods.

The day I went to convert to Islam, the Imaam had taken me back to meet his lovely family. He was an Indian man who'd married a black woman, and I guess she wanted him to have a taste of home, I'm not too sure, because it could also be because she liked Indian cuisine.

Anyways, when I got to the Imaam's house, his family had welcomed me with open arms and his wife had cooked biryani that day. I'd never tasted biryani before, so the explosion of flavour and spices was magnificent.

When I came home, I told my parents all about the lovely food, of course after the discussion of my conversion. Quickly, it became one of my favourite dishes because it always takes me back to that wonderful day, when everything in the world suddenly made sense to me.

So whenever I come home my mum makes sure the chefs cook up some biryani for me.

"Work has been intense," I complained, "the shifts are long and tedious and I get phone calls whenever. Oh and dad, like you said, after the first few patients, you do become used to losing them."

I remember when I used to call my father crying whenever I lost a patient but now, since I'm so used to my job, I don't even shed a tear. I know it makes me seem heartless but you just get used to it.

"That's good," my father nodded in approval, "I'm glad you realized it's not your fault and it was their time to go. It's all Allah's plan." 

The vocabulary my parents used around me was always Islamic. I think it's their way of making me feel accepted and comfortable. 

I know both of my parents are atheists, but I come from a very diverse family. 

"Sabrina!" I heard a voice screech, "oh, my God!" I turned to see one of my sister's. Charlotte. 

Charlotte is the perfect combination of looks and brains. She's a qualified dentist, two years older than me and a housewife to a very wealthy businessman. Charlotte has always been open about the kind of person that she was and that was a person who loved money. She'd always tell me when we were younger about how she would only marry a man who was very rich who'd give her more than what mum and dad gave her. 

She wants the good life of private planes and bodyguards, and she has that kind of life and I'm more than happy for her. She wears Versace when she's indoors and she sleeps in Prada clothing, because she considers those to be the least superior compared to Oscar de la Renta and everything else that she wears. 

"Charlotte," we both hugged each other tightly, laughing about how long it's been. 

"You look stunning, Charlotte," I complimented her as I stepped back and observed her outfit and she smiled, doing a dramatic pose for me. 

"And you..." she paused, looking over me in distaste, "have had better days." 

I laughed, "I know. I just came from Russia." 

"Oh, my God," she brushed off my comment, "come see my baby," she said excitedly as she started to pull me out of the dining room. 

The last time my sister and I had seen each other was on the day of Eid. I don't celebrate Christmas, but because my family does, I am always here for the celebration and my family does the same for me as well. So whenever it's Eid, all of my siblings come down to my family's home and we have a big and beautiful celebration and have fun. 

So, the last time that Charlotte and I had seen each other; she was heavily pregnant with her third child, and as she kept drilling into our heads, final child. So now, I can't wait to see her baby. 

She and her husband make the most beautiful children. 

~~~

Today has been a long day. I spent most of it with Charlotte and her beautiful baby, Dior. After that, my parents finally introduced me to my two new siblings, Shaista and Isa, and I started to bond with them.

It was great seeing my siblings. Some of them were still home, but trust me when I say you don't have the energy to hear about all of them right now. There's over ten of them and I'd be lying if I said I have the energy to talk about them.

I love them with everything in me, but we're more than 50, and quite frankly this book isn't about them.

I was anxious though, as I was in my room, undressing so I could go shower. I was thinking about the news I was going to deliver to my family, I know all eyes will be on me when it comes to that announcement.

~~~