Dada Jee's voice still echoed in the room.
"If you two don't tell the truth, I'll send Zain to Canada."
And then… he walked out, leaving behind a silence thick enough to choke.
Now, only Zain and Moon were left in the room.
Two boys.
One truth.
Too many cracks.
They stared at each other — not with anger, but with something heavier. Something colder.
Moon was the first to speak. His voice was quiet, but sharp.
So you told him everything again, didn't you?"
"Why did you lie, Zain?"
Zain looked confused.
Truly confused.
"But I didn't do anything to Hashir…"
"Didn't we go to say sorry to him together?"
"We just said sorry and came back… Why didn't you tell Dada Jee that?"
Moon didn't blink.
His words came out steady.
"We didn't go to Hashir."
"We never said sorry."
"What are you even talking about?"
Zain's mouth opened slightly, but no words came.
Moon leaned forward, voice low but certain.
Zain stayed quiet.
But Moon didn't stop.
His tone turned softer. But it cut deeper.
"Maybe you forgot again…"
"Just like when you said you didn't hurt that cat…"
"But it was found dead… in your room."
Zain looked away.
He didn't speak.
The silence returned — heavier than before.
Like it wasn't just between them…
It was watching.
The next morning, Grandpa's voice echoed through the house — weak, urgent, calling for help.
Zain and Moon rushed out.
They saw him lying at the bottom of the stairs.
Moon immediately ran outside to call someone for help, while Zain stayed beside Grandpa, frozen — wide-eyed and silent.
—
Scene Shift – Hospital
Grandpa now lay in a hospital bed. The room was filled with soft murmurs, concerned faces, and close relatives who'd come to visit.
Someone asked gently, "How did you fall?"
Grandpa was quiet. His eyes slowly turned to Zain.
Then, with a soft sigh, he said,
"My head spun. I slipped. That's all."
But something in his voice felt incomplete — like a sentence unfinished.
Later that day, Grandpa was overheard speaking on the phone, his tone calm but firm:
"When will you come to take Zain? I'm waiting."
Later that evening, back at home...
Moon sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, deep in thought.
He turned his head slowly toward Zain, who stood near the window.
"Where were you when Grandpa fell?" Moon asked quietly.
Zain didn't respond immediately.
Then, without turning around, he said,
"I was in my room."
Moon's eyes narrowed.
"I heard Grandpa calling for help. He said someone saw him… Saw what?"
His voice was calm, but his gaze was sharp.
Zain turned, his face blank.
Moon stood up.
"He's sending you away. Don't you think that's strange?"
He stepped closer.
"Is that why he's sending you... to Canada?"
Zain's fists clenched.
He suddenly turned and stormed out of the room.
Within moments, he burst into Grandpa's room —
slamming the door open.
"Did someone really see you?"
"Are you hiding something from me?"
Zain's voice cracked, pain and confusion colliding.
Grandpa looked up slowly, his face pale, tired.
He didn't flinch.
Come here, Zain," he said gently.
"There's nothing to fear."
Zain's eyes shimmered.
His voice dropped to a whisper,
"I'm scared... Because lately... I—"
His throat tightened.
"I can't tell what's real anymore."
Grandpa extended his hand toward him.
"Come. Sit with me. We don't need to talk just yet."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
When will I go to Canada…?"
Zain's voice was soft, almost trembling. Each word fell from his lips like it was tearing something inside him.
"I don't want to do things I don't even remember... I don't want to hurt anyone anymore, Dada Jee…"
His eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but there was no defense in his tone—only pain.
Dada Jee extended a hand toward him gently. His face showed no anger, no suspicion. Just love.
"You haven't hurt anyone, my child. Why do you think that?"
Zain stepped back slightly, lowering his gaze. The tears escaped now, tracing silent lines down his cheeks.
"Then… didn't I kill that cat?"
"Wasn't the thing she was killed with found in my drawer?"
"Wasn't her blood on my books?"
"Doesn't Hashir get scared when he sees me?"
Each question came like a whisper of a storm inside him, one after the other, all crashing into the silence of the room.
"I keep having nightmares… I see things… sometimes I see you too and…"
His voice cracked.
His eyes were full now. His hands moved up to cover part of his face, trying to contain everything spilling out.
"I don't know anymore… Please… just tell me I didn't do it…"
Only his shaky breathing remained in the room…
And that heavy silence that feels like it's watching everything.