Scene 1
Slowly, all the light faded darkness.
His footsteps quietly through the night.
It was a narrow street with a few houses and a small restaurant,
where the glowing words "Your Choice" shone brightly in the dark —
as if they had claimed the road itself.
He paused for a moment, then stepped inside.
The restaurant was dimly lit and eerily quiet.
A woman, around fifty-five, was arranging the tables and chairs in order.
Perhaps she already knew no customer would come this early.
Abaan entered briskly,
placing his coat on a nearby chair, and said softly,
"Give that to me, I'll do it.
How many times have I told you —
if you keep working like this, you'll reach old age too soon."
He spoke with a faint, caring smile.
The woman quickly replied,
"Oh no, young master, please, I'll do it."
She smiled shyly while wiping the table.
Abaan held back a bit of irritation and said,
"How many times have I told you —
don't call me 'master'."
Between them was a warmth born of years —
a bond much older than words.
Scene 2
Maryam stood on the rooftop of her small house, gazing at the scattered city lights.
The breeze played softly with her hair.
Just then, a voice came from behind —
Ifrah: "Maryam! Come quickly… something's wrong with Dad, I don't know what!"
Her voice trembled with fear and helplessness.
Maryam: "What happened to Uncle?"
She rushed down the stairs.
Ifrah sobbed,
"I don't know, he can't breathe properly!"
Scene 3
Maryam: "Uncle! Papa!!"
Her desperate cries echoed through the small house.
A sixty-year-old man lay collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath.
Maryam: "Uncle, open your eyes… I'm calling 1122!"
She hurriedly stepped outside with her phone pressed to her ear.
Scene 4
Driver: "Sir, there's a lot of traffic ahead… we can't move forward."
SeneInside the car sat a man in his fifties —
wearing an expensive suit and polished shoes,
his serious face hiding his true age.
There was a calmness about him — the kind that only wealth could buy.
Man: "I have a meeting right now. Take the car out of here."
His tone was soft, yet full of command.
The driver unbuckled his seat belt and got out to check the road,
but the traffic was too heavy — there was no way forward.
Moments later, he returned,
Driver: "Sir, I've arranged another car for you…
I'm sorry, but you'll have to walk a little — it's parked nearby."
The man quietly stepped out and began walking slowly along the roadside.
Scene 5
Abaan Mehr entered through the grand gates of a lavish mansion.
The place gleamed with light and luxury.
Golden-framed portraits hung on the walls,
chandeliers dangled from the ceiling,
and the latest designer furniture completed the royal look.
As soon as he entered, a girl in uniform hurried forward.
Girl: "Sir, please, give me your coat."
She spoke politely.
Abaan: "No, thank you. I'll manage."
He gestured gently and walked toward the winding staircase.
A deep voice echoed from behind,
Mehr Noshirwan: "Why didn't you attend the meeting today?"
Abaan froze.
His father's tone was sharp.
The elder man stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up.
Abaan: "Sorry."
He replied without turning around.
Noshirwan: "Are you still thinking about that incident?
It was just an accident!"
His voice thundered through the hall.
Abaan's eyes turned red.
Abaan: "An accident?
Maybe for you it was just that — an accident.
Running over an innocent man…
and fleeing the country the same night —
you think that can just be forgotten?"
Noshirwan: "Forget it. Forget everything."
He adjusted his glasses calmly.
Abaan: "Forgetting time and people — that's your talent, not mine."
He turned sharply and stormed upstairs.
In his room, he slammed his hand against the wall.
His eyes blazed with anger.
It wasn't the first time —
this happened often.
He tried hard to control himself.
Scene 6
It was five in the morning.
Maryam sat in a corner of the hospital, finishing her prayer.
After dua, she looked toward Ifrah —
who was asleep on a bench beside the emergency room.
Time passed slowly.
Maryam paced the corridor restlessly.
Then, a doctor stepped out.
Doctor: "Are you with the patient?
Does he smoke or use drugs?"
Ifrah struggled to hold back tears.
"Yes… he does. I've tried to stop him many times but…"
Her voice broke.
Doctor: "His lungs are severely damaged.
That's why he had trouble breathing and lost consciousness.
Please, come with me."
Ifrah: "Okay."
She followed the doctor inside.
Maryam sat down on a nearby bench.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall.
The hospital buzzed with urgency —
doctors, nurses, stretchers, all in motion.
Two stretchers rushed past her —
both carrying men drenched in blood.
Startled, Maryam ran after them.
By the time she reached the emergency room door, she was breathless.
Just then, a doctor emerged and said softly,
"I'm sorry… we couldn't save them."
At those words, the world around Maryam blurred.
The doctors slowly left the room.
She stood frozen between the two stretchers,
tears welling up in her eyes.
Voices of her father and brother echoed in her ears —
Suddenly, she woke up.
Her body was drenched in sweat, trembling with fear.
Maryam: "Was that… a dream?
Such a terrible dream…"
She whispered, brushing the hair from her face.
Scene 7
Abaan Mehr stepped out of his car.
He wore a brown suit, dark glasses, and his face was unreadable.
Behind him stood a tall building —
the board "Mehr Industries" gleaming under the sunlight.
His young secretary followed closely, holding an iPad.
Secretary:
"Sir, today's schedule is as follows:
9 AM — meeting with the employees of Mehr Industries,
12 PM — visit to the Mehr Scientific Department,
lunch with the senior staff,
evening — personal time,
and dinner tonight with Mr. Noshirwan."
They walked briskly —
the secretary opening and closing doors, staying a step behind always.
Inside the office, everyone was busy at their desks.
Whoever saw Abaan greeted him respectfully, "Good morning, sir."
He simply nodded and kept walking.
Scene 8
Meanwhile,
Maryam sat beside Ifrah's father at their house.
His face was pale and weak.
Maryam:
"Uncle, the doctor said you must quit smoking and drinking.
Ifrah was so worried yesterday… she cried for you."
Ifrah, slicing fruit, added softly,
"Maryam's right, Papa. Please, take care of yourself."
The old man tried to smile,
but behind that smile was exhaustion.
Scene 9
It was noon.
Maryam was running along the roadside —
she was late for work and breathless.
Sweat glistened on her face,
her hair fluttered wildly,
and her eyes were fixed on the road ahead.
At the same time,
Abaan Mehr's car was driving down the same street.
He was in the driver's seat, focused on the files on his tablet.
Suddenly, the driver hit the brakes hard!
The car jerked to a stop,
and Abaan lurched forward.
Abaan: "What happened?"
He quickly stepped out.
In front of him stood a girl —
her hair blown by the wind,
fear and pain mingled in her eyes,
and trembling lips whispering, "Sorry."
Blood dripped from her hand.
She tried to push her hair aside,
but the pain twisted her expression.
Abaan: "Your hand is bleeding… wait, I—"
But she walked away without looking back.
Abaan stood there, watching her go,
his eyes fixed on the path she'd taken.
Abaan (softly): "Who was she…
the one who didn't even care she was hurt?"
Driver: "No idea, sir. She came out of nowhere."
Scene 10
Maryam reached her workplace —
her hand still bleeding,
her breath uneven,
and she was late.
She rushed to the counter.
Mr. Raheem, the manager, looked up with a stern face.
Mr. Raheem:
"Maryam, you can leave now.
From today… your fate has changed.
You no longer belong here."
Maryam (shocked):
"What do you mean? You're joking, right?
I was just late, but—"
Mr. Raheem (seriously):
"This isn't a joke.
The boss has fired you.
Maybe he was right —
hands meant to pick flowers can't lift stones.
Go, child… maybe God has written something better for you."
He walked away.
Blood dripped from her hand,
tears from her eyes.
She stood there silently for a few moments —
then slowly walked out.
Scene 1
Slowly, all the light faded into darkness.
His footsteps moved quietly through the night.
It was a narrow street with a few houses and a small restaurant,
where the glowing words "Your Choice" shone brightly in the dark —
as if they had claimed the road itself.
He paused for a moment, then stepped inside.
The restaurant was dimly lit and eerily quiet.
A woman, around fifty-five, was arranging the tables and chairs in order.
Perhaps she already knew no customer would come this early.
Abaan entered briskly,
placing his coat on a nearby chair, and said softly,
"Give that to me, I'll do it.
How many times have I told you —
if you keep working like this, you'll reach old age too soon."
He spoke with a faint, caring smile.
The woman quickly replied,
"Oh no, young master, please, I'll do it."
She smiled shyly while wiping the table.
Abaan held back a bit of irritation and said,
"How many times have I told you —
don't call me 'master'."
Between them was a warmth born of years —
a bond much older than words.
Scene 2
Maryam stood on the rooftop of her small house, gazing at the scattered city lights.
The breeze played softly with her hair.
Just then, a voice came from behind —
Ifrah: "Maryam! Come quickly… something's wrong with Dad, I don't know what!"
Her voice trembled with fear and helplessness.
Maryam: "What happened to Uncle?"
She rushed down the stairs.
Ifrah sobbed,
"I don't know, he can't breathe properly!"
Scene 3
Maryam: "Uncle! Papa!!"
Her desperate cries echoed through the small house.
A sixty-year-old man lay collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath.
Maryam: "Uncle, open your eyes… I'm calling 1122!"
She hurriedly stepped outside with her phone pressed to her ear. Scene 4
Driver: "Sir, there's a lot of traffic ahead… we can't move forward."
SeneInside the car sat a man in his fifties —
wearing an expensive suit and polished shoes,
his serious face hiding his true age.
There was a calmness about him — the kind that only wealth could buy.
Man: "I have a meeting right now. Take the car out of here."
His tone was soft, yet full of command.
The driver unbuckled his seat belt and got out to check the road,
but the traffic was too heavy — there was no way forward.
Moments later, he returned,
Driver: "Sir, I've arranged another car for you…
I'm sorry, but you'll have to walk a little — it's parked nearby."
The man quietly stepped out and began walking slowly along the roadside.
Scene 5
Abaan Mehr entered through the grand gates of a lavish mansion.
The place gleamed with light and luxury.
Golden-framed portraits hung on the walls,
chandeliers dangled from the ceiling,
and the latest designer furniture completed the royal look.
As soon as he entered, a girl in uniform hurried forward.
Girl: "Sir, please, give me your coat."
She spoke politely.
Abaan: "No, thank you. I'll manage."
He gestured gently and walked toward the winding staircase.
A deep voice echoed from behind,
Mehr Noshirwan: "Why didn't you attend the meeting today?"
Abaan froze.
His father's tone was sharp.
The elder man stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up.
Abaan: "Sorry."
He replied without turning around.
Noshirwan: "Are you still thinking about that incident?
It was just an accident!"
His voice thundered through the hall.
Abaan's eyes turned red.
Abaan: "An accident?
Maybe for you it was just that — an accident.
Running over an innocent man…
and fleeing the country the same night —
you think that can just be forgotten?"
Noshirwan: "Forget it. Forget everything."
He adjusted his glasses calmly.
Abaan: "Forgetting time and people — that's your talent, not mine."
He turned sharply and stormed upstairs.
In his room, he slammed his hand against the wall.
His eyes blazed with anger.
It wasn't the first time —
this happened often.
He tried hard to control himself.
Scene 6
It was five in the morning.
Maryam sat in a corner of the hospital, finishing her prayer.
After dua, she looked toward Ifrah —
who was asleep on a bench beside the emergency room.
Time passed slowly.
Maryam paced the corridor restlessly.
Then, a doctor stepped out.
Doctor: "Are you with the patient?
Does he smoke or use drugs?"
Ifrah struggled to hold back tears.
"Yes… he does. I've tried to stop him many times but…"
Her voice broke.
Doctor: "His lungs are severely damaged.
That's why he had trouble breathing and lost consciousness.
Please, come with me."
Ifrah: "Okay."
She followed the doctor inside.
Maryam sat down on a nearby bench.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall.
The hospital buzzed with urgency —
doctors, nurses, stretchers, all in motion.
Two stretchers rushed past her —
both carrying men drenched in blood.
Startled, Maryam ran after them.
By the time she reached the emergency room door, she was breathless.
Just then, a doctor emerged and said softly,
"I'm sorry… we couldn't save them."
At those words, the world around Maryam blurred.
The doctors slowly left the room.
She stood frozen between the two stretchers,
tears welling up in her eyes.
Voices of her father and brother echoed in her ears —
Suddenly, she woke up.
Her body was drenched in sweat, trembling with fear.
Maryam: "Was that… a dream?
Such a terrible dream…"
She whispered, brushing the hair from her face.
Scene 7
Abaan Mehr stepped out of his car.
He wore a brown suit, dark glasses, and his face was unreadable.
Behind him stood a tall building —
the board "Mehr Industries" gleaming under the sunlight.
His young secretary followed closely, holding an iPad.
Secretary:
"Sir, today's schedule is as follows:
9 AM — meeting with the employees of Mehr Industries,
12 PM — visit to the Mehr Scientific Department,
lunch with the senior staff,
evening — personal time,
and dinner tonight with Mr. Noshirwan."
They walked briskly —
the secretary opening and closing doors, staying a step behind always.
Inside the office, everyone was busy at their desks.
Whoever saw Abaan greeted him respectfully, "Good morning, sir."
He simply nodded and kept walking.
Scene 8
Meanwhile,
Maryam sat beside Ifrah's father at their house.
His face was pale and weak.
Maryam:
"Uncle, the doctor said you must quit smoking and drinking.
Ifrah was so worried yesterday… she cried for you."
Ifrah, slicing fruit, added softly,
"Maryam's right, Papa. Please, take care of yourself."
The old man tried to smile,
but behind that smile was exhaustion.
Scene 9
It was noon.
Maryam was running along the roadside —
she was late for work and breathless.
Sweat glistened on her face,
her hair fluttered wildly,
and her eyes were fixed on the road ahead.
At the same time,
Abaan Mehr's car was driving down the same street.
He was in the driver's seat, focused on the files on his tablet.
Suddenly, the driver hit the brakes hard!
The car jerked to a stop,
and Abaan lurched forward.
Abaan: "What happened?"
He quickly stepped out.
In front of him stood a girl —
her hair blown by the wind,
fear and pain mingled in her eyes,
and trembling lips whispering, "Sorry."
Blood dripped from her hand.
She tried to push her hair aside,
but the pain twisted her expression.
Abaan: "Your hand is bleeding… wait, I—"
But she walked away without looking back.
Abaan stood there, watching her go,
his eyes fixed on the path she'd taken.
Abaan (softly): "Who was she…
the one who didn't even care she was hurt?"
Driver: "No idea, sir. She came out of nowhere."
Scene 10
Maryam reached her workplace —
her hand still bleeding,
her breath uneven,
and she was late.
She rushed to the counter.
Mr. Raheem, the manager, looked up with a stern face.
Mr. Raheem:
"Maryam, you can leave now.
From today… your fate has changed.
You no longer belong here."
Maryam (shocked):
"What do you mean? You're joking, right?
I was just late, but—"
Mr. Raheem (seriously):
"This isn't a joke.
The boss has fired you.
Maybe he was right —
hands meant to pick flowers can't lift stones.
Go, child… maybe God has written something better for you."
He walked away.
Blood dripped from her hand,
tears from her eyes.
She stood there silently for a few moments —
then slowly walked out.