66. PLEASE BE OKAY

Murad's hand tightened around his phone as Haroon’s trembling voice echoed through the line. Panic surged through him, his heartbeat quickening with every word. Without a second thought, he bolted from his office, nearly stumbling as his urgency overtook his coordination. His footsteps were frantic, echoing through the parking lot as he rushed toward his car, cold sweat trailing down his spine.

Please, let her be okay, he whispered internally, his thoughts swirling in chaos. But deep down, he knew—there were only prayers left now.

The elevator ride felt endless, the ticking of each second louder than the pounding of his own heart. When the doors finally slid open, Murad all but dashed toward his car, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel, speeding toward the address Haroon had provided.

He drove recklessly, barely aware of the traffic around him, his mind fixated on one thing: Taliya. The sight that greeted him when he arrived made his heart drop to his stomach.

There, in the middle of the road, was Haroon's figure hunched over, shaking, clutching Taliya’s limp body as if trying to will her back to life. Murad's vision blurred for a moment, panic gripping his chest like a vice.

“Haroon!” Murad shouted, rushing out of his car, but the boy didn’t respond. His sobs filled the air, his body trembling violently as he tried to hold on to Taliya, his panic consuming him.

Murad swallowed hard, fighting the urge to collapse right there. He couldn’t afford to break down. Not now.

His hands fumbled for his phone, dialing for an ambulance with shaky fingers. “Send two ambulances,” he rasped into the phone, his voice cracking with fear. “Because I’m going to need one too. I’m sure I’m about to have a heart attack.”

He had called Taliya to confront her about the letter, to demand answers he desperately needed. But he never imagined he would meet his own downfall like this. Murad's mind spiraled with a hundred different questions, none of which seemed to matter now. All he could focus on was the scene in front of him: Haroon, barely holding it together, and Taliya…motionless, her once vibrant spirit now overshadowed by blood and cold.

His heart raced wildly, refusing to slow down as he knelt beside them, his hands shaking as he reached for Taliya. The sight of her half-bloody face made his chest tighten painfully. Her body was limp, unnervingly cold, and for a terrifying second, he thought he had lost her. But he couldn’t think that way—not now.

“Haroon,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible over the sound of his own rapid breathing. The man didn’t respond, his eyes wide with shock, his huge frame trembling uncontrollably. Murad felt a surge of helplessness and grief overwhelm him, but he pushed it aside, knowing he had to keep it together for Haroon. He wrapped his arms around the Haroon, pulling him close, trying to anchor him to reality.

“It’s going to be okay,” Murad said, though the words felt hollow in his mouth. He wasn’t sure he believed them himself. But Haroon needed to hear them, to feel something familiar amidst the chaos.

The sound of distant sirens brought a sliver of relief, but Murad knew they still had to get Taliya to the hospital—time wasn’t on their side. Without thinking twice, he slipped his arms under her frail form, lifting her as carefully as he could. Her head lolled to the side, her body frighteningly still, and Murad’s heart clenched in fear. He abandoned his car where it stood, no longer caring about anything else but getting her the help she needed.

“Haroon, come on,” he urged, his voice cracking with urgency. He nodded weakly, his legs barely moving as he followed Murad. Together, they stumbled toward the street, and as the ambulance finally arrived, Murad felt the weight of the world crushing down on him.

He cradled Taliya’s limp body in his arms, his hands stained with her blood, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He had never been more terrified in his life. Everything about this felt wrong, like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Murad’s heart pounded painfully as they reached the ambulance. The paramedics rushed toward him, carefully taking Taliya from his arms, laying her on the stretcher with precision. The sight of her lifeless form being wheeled away made his knees buckle, but he forced himself to stay strong. He had to. For her. For Haroon.

Haroon was barely holding on, lost in his own world of terror and confusion. Murad hugged him again, pulling him into the ambulance with him as they followed Taliya. He couldn’t bear to leave him behind, not in this state.

As the ambulance sped through the streets, Murad could feel his heart racing even faster. The paramedics worked frantically on Taliya, their voices blending together in a blur of medical jargon. Murad tried to focus on their words, to understand what they were saying, but his mind was elsewhere—filled with memories of her smile, her laughter, the way she always managed to lighten his darkest days.

He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not like this.

Haroon clung to Murad, his hands gripping tightly to his jacket, his face buried in his shoulder. He was barely existing in reality, his body shaking with silent sobs, and Murad held him close, trying to give him some semblance of comfort.

"It's going to be okay," Murad whispered again, his voice breaking. But the words were just as hollow as before. They both knew that nothing would be the same again if they lost Taliya.

As the ambulance neared the hospital, Murad glanced down at Taliya’s still form, her face pale and her body motionless. The fear in his chest deepened. He could only pray that, somehow, they’d have enough time to save her. That, despite everything, she would pull through.

But all he could do was wait, his heart hammering in his chest, as they rushed toward the emergency room, hoping against hope that this wouldn’t be the end.