74

— H O O R —

. . .

The next morning as I woke up, I did not find Zahir anywhere in the room. My eyes ran here and there but Zahir was not present.

On the couch, I did not find any pillow that he used last night. It was beside me. The quilt, he must have folded and put inside the cupboard.

I sigh, not being very sad about it. Zahir is trying to torture me, is he not?

I get up and cover my head. I get on my knees and pray to the Lord, thanking Him for everything and asking Him what I have asked Him over and over again.

I believe He will pay heed to me.

Getting up, I fold the mattress. I walk inside the bathroom and come out, getting ready. I stand in front of the vanity and do some makeup to look presentable.

Getting done, I go downstairs and realise that once again, Zahir went office while everyone was sleeping.

What’s wrong with him?

My day is normal. I make breakfast and once again tell Dad about Zahir. He is found to be annoyed by his habit of Zahir and agrees to call him.

But