"Aliza," I was amazed.
"What the hell? What are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice a harsh whisper as I dropped to the ground beside her.
"Are you alright?" Aliza asked, her eyes searching mine.
"I'm fine, but you don't look okay... and how did you even get here?"
"I came on my horse," she replied simply.
I stunned into silence. I studied her for a moment before the curiosity broke through. "You... you own a horse?"
"Yes," she said, her voice softening. "My father gifted him to me."
"Oh. I thought you were poor," I admitted bluntly.
She scoffed, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. "Seriously?"
"Then what do you do for Ahmed Khan?" I pressed.
"I'm his cook. I prepare his meals," she explained, her tone sharpening with pride. "Look, I might not be wealthy, but I am *not* poor."
"Okay," I said, leaning back slightly to give her space.
"How did you faint?" she asked, a small, mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "Everyone was making fun of you... they were calling you 'lightweight'."
I glared at her, my face flushing with anger.
"Hey, it wasn't me! It's what people are saying," she added quickly, trying to suppress a smile.
"I hadn't eaten anything, that's all," I muttered, my voice dropping. "People love to talk."
"Hmm, true," she replied, though her smile was still lingering beneath the surface.
"I was working that hard for the first time," I said, my voice trailing off into a somber tone. "My father isn't around anymore to do my share of the work."
The smile vanished from Aliza's face instantly, replaced by a shadow of sadness. A heavy silence settled between us.
"You should go," I said abruptly, standing up to leave.
"Wait!" she called out, rising to her feet.
I stopped and turned. She reached into her bag and pulled out a packed bowl.
"This?" I blinked in confusion. "Iqbal Sahab told me you only bring food to the jail."
"Well, they don't usually faint," she said with an air of innocence.
A soft smile tugged at my lips. "So, is this for me?"
She nodded. I stepped toward her and took the bowl, staring at it for a long moment. "Why?" I asked.
"I like helping people," she paused, her voice dropping to a low, earnest whisper. "Especially those who suffer under Ahmed Khan's cruelty."
She looked at me, and for a moment, our gaze locked.
"Bilal, I only work for Ahmed Khan so I can look after Iqbal Sahab and the others he mistreats. Now that you're here, I want to help you too."
"You could lose your life for this—" I started to warn.
"I don't care," she interrupted firmly.
After a beat of silence, I felt a smirk forming. "Do I have to share this with Iqbal Sahab too?"
She let out a broad smile. "Up to you."
"What the hell is going on here?" Adi's voice cut through the air from behind us.
"Oh! It's nothing. Let's just get back to work," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Zafar Khan is keeping an eye on you, and here you are chatting with a girl? Do you both want to die?" Adi hissed.
"Zafar Khan? He's here?" Aliza asked, her voice tight with sudden nerves.
"Yes! And he said he's here specifically to watch Bilal," Adi warned her.
"I should go," Aliza said, turning toward her horse.
"You don't need to be afraid of him," I told her, but she just took a tired, heavy breath.
"I'm not afraid of him, okay? I just don't want him to see me here."
"Fine. Go," I said.
"And you, get to work!" Adi nudged me.
As Aliza rode away, Adi caught sight of the packed bowl in my hand. "Who was she?"
"I don't know..." I lied poorly.
"Oh, you don't know her, yet you take lunch from her? Bravo!" Adi mocked, clapping his hands. "Just don't go sitting down to eat that soup in front of Zafar Khan."
*Why is he so concerned about me? Why is everyone so concerned about me?* I wondered.
"Understand?" Adi pressed.
"Tck... okay, fine," I grumbled.
"What is going on here?"
The cold voice belonged to Zafar. I froze, looking at Adi in panic, and immediately hid the bowl so Zafar wouldn't see it.
"I... I just came to talk to Bilal about something important," Adi stammered, visibly shaken.
I kept my back to Zafar, attempting to walk away without making eye contact.
"Stop!" Zafar commanded. "You've been missing for a while. Adi only just arrived. What were you doing?"
I closed my eyes, fighting to keep my temper in check. I turned around, keeping the bowl hidden. "I fainted earlier—I'm sure the news has spread like wildfire by now. I was just hiding here to rest. Adi found me and we were just heading back to work."
"I see," Zafar said, nodding slowly. "Then what are you hiding behind your back?"
"Nothing. You're wasting my time... and yours," I said, staring him straight in the eye.
Zafar stepped forward until he was inches from my face. "Show me your hands—"
"No," I defied.
"I said, SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!" he roared.
I tried to ignore him and walk away, but he grabbed me with startling strength, yanking me back and forcing my arm forward. The packed bowl was exposed. Zafar looked shocked for a split second before snatching it from my hand to inspect it.
I stood there, stunned. He was incredibly strong; with a single shove, he had neutralized me.
"Where did this come from?" I snapped out of it upon hearing Zafar's voice. "Tell me the truth, or I'm taking you to my uncle right now."
"I gave it to him!" Adi blurted out, his voice trembling with fear.
I looked at Adi, surprised.
"And where did *you* get this?" Zafar turned his interrogation on Adi.
"I get tired while working, so I had my mother make it for me. But... since Bilal fainted, I thought he needed it more than I did," Adi spun the lie flawlessly.
Zafar let out a long sigh and held the bowl back out to me. "Take it."
I stared at him.
"Take it... considering how hard I just shoved you, you probably need it even more now," Zafar said with a mocking smirk.
Anger flared in me, stinging my eyes with frustrated tears. Adi took the bowl from Zafar for me.
"From now on, no eating or drinking during work hours. Am I clear?" Zafar warned. Adi nodded quickly.
Zafar shot me one last look before walking away. He paused after a few steps. "I want to see both of you working in five minutes."
With that, he walked away.
"The soup must be cold by now," Adi sighed.
"As if we're only given warm food here," I snapped bitterly.
Adi nodded and unpacked the bowl, handing it to me. I looked at the soup, then at him. "I don't want it."
"Oh, come on, Bilal. All this drama happened because of this soup, don't waste it now. Don't let Zafar win. Just drink it."
"You didn't have to play the hero," I said seriously. "We only met today, and you were willing to take the blame for me."
"Maybe so... but that's just who I am. I like helping people," he smiled. "Besides, being friends with me will benefit you. Now drink up before it gets colder. Someone worked hard to bring this to you..." He added a teasing glint to his eyes. "Though I have no idea who that 'someone' is."
"Shut up," I muttered, taking the soup and finally eating.
Elsewhere, Zafar was walking through the work site when a voice stopped him.
"Zafar," Iqbal Sahab called out.
Zafar turned, his expression souring. "Sigh... Iqbal Sahab." He walked over. "What is it?"
"Listen—"
"No, please," Zafar cut him off. "I'm not in the mood for your philosophy or your lectures. If you have something useful to say, say it."
"I wouldn't waste my time giving philosophy to someone as lowly as you," Iqbal Sahab retorted.
Zafar's face hardened. "Fine... at least you admit I'm 'lowly' in your eyes."
"Your actions prove it," Iqbal Sahab said. "Why did you call me here," Zafar said in a strict tone.
"Your mother hated those perverts who harassed girls." Iqbal Sahab said pointedly.
Fury flashed across Zafar's face. "Why are you telling me this?"
"In case you've become one yourself... now that you're a grown man," Iqbal Sahab replied calmly.
"Whatever I am is none of your business!" Zafar spat, turning on his heel and storming off.
Iqbal Sahab watched him go, whispering under his breath, "I couldn't save your son from that tyrant..."
...
Night fell. The prisoners were locked away, and the laborers had returned to their homes.
Aliza was in the kitchen, plating food, when she heard someone enter. She looked up to see Zafar standing there. She immediately looked away, ignoring him.
"Are you eating?" Zafar asked.
"Can't you see?" she snapped.
Zafar leaned against the kitchen doorframe, crossing his arms. He watched her in silence for several minutes until Aliza finally slammed her spoon down in frustration.
"What is it, Zafar?"
"Do you usually eat this late at night? Or..."
"Or what?" she challenged.
Zafar stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "Or are you taking that food to someone else?"
Aliza froze, looking at him in genuine shock.