pregnant

2

When she regained consciousness, she found herself in a hospital room.

She looked around in surprise…

Had that cruel, stone-hearted man really set her free?

“How are you feeling now?” As she sat up, the nurse standing nearby asked with a smile.

“I…I’m fi…fine…” Her throat was dry, her body weak and exhausted—she managed to utter the words with great difficulty.

“Hmm, good…” The nurse was about to leave after asking about her condition, when Anum quickly inquired,

“W–where am I right now?” At her question, the nurse turned back and looked at her in surprise.

“What do you mean? You’re in a hospital in Karachi…”

The moment she heard that, Anum’s wide eyes grew even wider in shock.

“Karachi??… How did I get here from Islamabad? My…my mother…was she brought here too?” Her first thought was for her mother—she asked anxiously.

“Yes…she’s upstairs. A donor has taken full responsibility for your mother’s treatment. Don’t worry now.”

“Can I…can I meet her? Please…I want to see her right now…” She hurriedly got down from the bed as she spoke.

“You’re too weak, child. Rest…you only just woke up after two days of unconsciousness. Your mother is fine…” The nurse immediately tried to seat her back on the bed.

“No…no, I need…need to see my mother…” She had already begun crying.

“Alright…come, I’ll take you.” The nurse knew how frail and broken this young girl was. Without support, she would surely collapse.

“Ammi…” The moment she saw her mother lying in a coma, she let go of the nurse’s hand and clung to her mother’s chest, weeping.

Perhaps her mother could not hear her, according to the doctors. But still, Anum kept crying, shaking her, begging, “Ammi…please wake up…Api has left us…look, Ammi…please…please get up. I’m so scared…hold me in your arms like you did in childhood. I need you so much…Ammi…”

She was terrified. She didn’t even want to live anymore. But upon seeing her mother, the desire to live stirred again in her heart.

She had not forgotten that Rukhsar’s only wish—her first and last—was to see their mother recover from this coma and live a normal life again.

💞Husny Kanwal💞

How had she reached Karachi? Where was that cruel man? Had he really let her go? Or would he return for her? That entire night, lying on her hospital bed, she was haunted by these questions.

Every time footsteps echoed outside her room, she trembled with fear.

She couldn’t run away even if she wanted to—she had nowhere to go. And how could she leave her mother behind?

That night became one of the longest nights of her life…one that simply refused to end.

When morning finally came, and she saw people walking around the hospital, she breathed in relief, thinking, At least in this crowd, that cruel man can’t just come and drag me away.

After breakfast, she asked the doctor about being discharged.

“You’re fine now…you can leave today if you wish. But make sure to eat well. You’re very weak. And remember, no matter how hard life gets, never think of suicide again. It’s forbidden in Islam.”

“Doctor…could I please borrow your phone? I need to make a call…” she asked pleadingly.

“Of course…here.” The doctor pulled a phone from his coat pocket and handed it to her.

“Hello…can I speak to Fiza Phuppo?” she said quickly.

Her father had passed away years ago. At his funeral, she had met her aunt Fiza for the first time—who had come from Jhelum. She had run away to marry years ago, and even after fifteen years, had no children. She had wanted to take Rukhsar and Anum with her, but Rukhsar had refused, choosing instead to stay with their stepmother.

Before leaving, Fiza had given Rukhsar her number on a slip of paper, telling her to call if she ever needed her. Rukhsar had not even bothered to look at it.

If Father never acknowledged her in his lifetime, how could I accept her after his death? she had thought, and thrown the paper into the dustbin.

But Anum had picked it up, glanced at it once—and thanks to her sharp memory, it was imprinted forever. She never forgot anything she read even once. That gift was the reason she had always been a top student.

Today, she silently thanked God for that.

“Who’s this?” a voice asked immediately from the other side.

“Phuppo, it’s me…Anum.”

The voice on the other end froze.

“Anum?? That’s impossible. Don’t joke with me…Anum committed suicide after killing her sister. She’s dead. Just two days ago, I attended her funeral with my own eyes.”

Anum’s heart stopped.

What was happening around her?

She was alive. Then whose body had they buried? And that too, two days ago?

The doctor had told her she was admitted two days ago as well…

So who saved her? And why?

More importantly—why had she been trapped in all this? Why was her sister killed?

She remembered…she was alone at home with Rukhsar that night. She had been studying in her room when Rukhsar brought her a glass of milk. She drank it—that much she remembered.

But then? How had she lost consciousness? How did she end up in Rukhsar’s room? Where had that diary come from?

The more she tried to recall, the more tangled everything became.

Questions—nothing but questions. No answers anywhere.

To the world, she was already dead. But she was alive, lying in a hospital bed in Karachi for three days.

And she didn’t even know whether the person who had saved her had good intentions or bad. Was it a blessing—or another trial waiting for her?

“Hello…” the voice pulled her back to the present.

“No, Phuppo…it’s really me, Anum. I’m alive, believe me. After Api’s murder…” Her mind froze with fear. Her breathing turned shallow.

“H–he raped me…that cruel…that monster. Believe me, I’m alive…I’m in a Karachi hospital. Ammi is here too…”

The memories of those days with that beast flashed like a film before her eyes.

She broke down again, telling her aunt of her ordeal with great difficulty—before fainting from the weight of grief.

The phone slipped from her hand.

“What?? Rape?? Anum, where are you?? Send me the address—I’m coming to get you and Bhabi right now!”

The doctor, who had overheard, quickly informed Fiza Begum of the hospital’s location and Anum’s condition.

💞Husny Kanwal💞

Fiza Begum brought Anum to Jhelum with her, leaving her mother in Karachi, as doctors insisted her treatment would be better there.

Her husband worked abroad, visiting only once a year, so she lived alone in a small but cozy home with a big garden outside. A railway station nearby meant the constant sound of trains filled the air.

Anum told her everything that had happened. But beyond consoling her, Fiza could do nothing.

After all, Noman Waleed wasn’t an ordinary man. He was the only son of a famous politician and businessman. His mother too was in politics. Everyone knew their immense power.

Life in Jhelum was simple but peaceful, the people kind-hearted.

Fiza owned a small café she had opened years ago for income and to pass the time. Each morning, she would leave for work.

At first, Anum remained terrified, clinging to her aunt’s side, even sleeping in her room at night.

She woke up screaming in the dark, crying, “I didn’t do anything…leave me, Noman Bhai…I didn’t do anything…”

She spent her days silently at the window, neither speaking, nor eating, nor walking around—as though her will to live had died.

Instead of improving, her depression only worsened.

Concerned, Fiza took her to a psychiatrist, who prescribed calming medication. Under their effect, Anum would sleep through most of the day.

After two months, she improved slightly.

Fiza began taking her to the café, hoping meeting new people would help her begin a new life.

But the slightest crash of a dish sent her into hysterical screams.

Fiza feared people might think her niece insane. Eventually, she had to leave her at home, checking on her constantly by phone.

💞Husny Kanwal💞

Winter arrived in Jhelum.

One evening, left alone as usual, Anum trembled at the sudden flash of lightning. Terrified, she ran from the window to her aunt’s room, curling up under the blanket on her bed.

Soon rain poured heavily outside.

That night, she developed a fever, slipping into a faint state.

Half-conscious, she felt something damp on her forehead—someone was placing a wet cloth there.

Opening her eyes, she saw her mortal enemy sitting right before her, his dark, mysterious eyes fixed on her face.

She instantly shut her eyes in terror.

When she opened them again, her aunt was holding her hand.

“Sorry, beta…I couldn’t come home last night. A child went missing near the café, and then the rain started…I completely forgot about you in the chaos…” she explained apologetically.

“Did they find the child?” Anum asked with concern.

“Yes, thank God…otherwise the parents were threatening to shut down my café. I was terrified…spent the whole night praying the police would find him.”

Her fever subsided gradually.

“Now rest, I’ll get your breakfast. I don’t understand why you’re getting weaker every day,” Fiza fussed over her with a mother’s care.

Anum stayed silent, lost in thought.

The memories of last night haunted her.

“Surely it was just a dream…but why would I dream of that beast caring for me? Shouldn’t I have dreamt of Api instead? Dreams really are strange…”

She was troubled by how real it had felt.

But how could it be real? The one who had destroyed her life—why would he show up just to tend her fever? Impossible.

She was certain Noman didn’t even know she was alive. Otherwise, he would have killed her long ago.

She could never expect kindness from him. In her eyes, he was nothing but an executioner.

💞Husny Kanwal💞

Fiza handed her a cup of cardamom tea. Its smell instantly made Anum nauseous—she rushed to vomit.

Alarmed, Fiza took her to the doctor.

“Congratulations…your niece is going to be a mother.”

The words hit Fiza like a storm.

And Anum froze in shock.

How many more calamities awaited her?

She hadn’t even healed from the past—and now this?

The memory of Noman’s face, his cruelty, her own screams, her torment—all replayed like a nightmare.

O Lord, erase my memory—these memories are a curse.

She gasped for air.

“Breathe, Anum, breathe!” The doctor and Fiza tried to calm her as she went into a panic attack.

“Deep breaths…with me, child…inhale, exhale…” The doctor guided her until she finally stabilized, exhausted.

Fiza’s heart ached at her state.

“Can we abort it? We don’t want this child.”

The doctor shook her head. “No…the pregnancy is nearly four months. Termination now would risk Anum’s life. Please think carefully.”

“I don’t care—just get it away from me…” Anum cried brokenly.

“Don’t make such emotional decisions. You can give the baby to a childless couple after birth. But don’t kill it—or endanger yourself. And no doctor will take such a risk at this stage,” the doctor explained gently.

It was clear Anum had been assaulted. The doctor could see the trauma written all over her.

💞Husny Kanwal💞

She was devastated. Whether she wanted it or not, she would have to bring Noman’s child into the world.

She cried endlessly, growing weaker by the day, cut off from the world.

Finally, the day came.

Through a major surgery, she delivered a baby boy.

She had begged her aunt beforehand not to let her see the child.

While most mothers prayed for safe delivery, she had prayed for death—for herself and her baby both.

But fate had other plans.

When the nurse handed the baby to Fiza, her heart nearly stopped.

The tiny infant was breathing, fragile and innocent.

What was his fault?

Yet, as his father’s son, he would bear the punishment for his father’s sins.

Anum was only sixteen. At an age when girls dream of weddings and fairy-tale princes, she had lost her sister, her honor, and even her place in society.

With a heavy heart, Fiza took the child outside the hospital.

She left him in a cradle at the nearby orphanage.

For fifteen years she had longed for a child. Her heart broke, but for the sake of her niece’s dignity and future, she forced herself to do it.

If the baby stayed, Anum would never heal.

As she turned away, the infant woke and began crying from hunger, his eyes exactly like his mother’s.

Fiza wept too. “Forgive me…” she whispered, walking away.

But halfway down the road, she stopped. What if I leave, and the child keeps crying, starving alone?

She returned, hiding behind a tree.

Just then, a Pajero stopped. A young man in a suit stepped out, face hidden behind a black mask.

He walked to the cradle, picked up the baby, and spoke softly to him.

Then, cradling the infant, he got back into the Pajero and drove away.

From the shadows, Fiza Begum watched silently, trembling.

#ToBeContinued 😊

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