ABDALLAH
In the car, Aahil sits quietly, seeming lost in thought. I don’t even have to ask what’s wrong.
I just open my mouth but Aahil has super senses, detecting it already. “I swear, if you so much as take her name, you’ll see a version of me that you never have before. And you won’t like it.”
I just make myself comfortable in my seat, drag the seatbelt across and on and raise my eyebrows at him. “Not like I know her name anyway.”
His hand tightens on the steering wheel in a death grip, knuckles as white as snow in late December.
“Come on,” I start. “At least tell me why you were so shocked when you saw her.”
He starts the engine as if he’s twisting a blade inside someone’s chest. I press my lips, looking out of the window.
“Aahil,” I press for information, knowing that if he k
