MANAL

74: Manal

Throughout the ride back home, I couldn't utter a word to Farida, because I was shocked by the news as well. Despite everything he did to me, I didn't want such a fate to befall him. He didn't deserve it. No one did.

Farida had been crying silently all through. She tried to act like she wasn't very worried, but with one look at her, anyone could tell just how worried she was.

Because I was seated in the back with her, I occasionally placed a comforting hand on her lap.

Abii wasn't exactly oblivious to the tension in the air, but he chose to remain silent for whatever reason.

When we arrived in the city, Abii offered to drop Farida off at her house.

I was grateful, though I didn't expect otherwise. Abii was that generous.

Abii pulled over in front of their house.

"Thank you so much, sir," Farida muttered.

Abii shook his head. "It's nothing. I hope you find your brother soon."

"Ameen. Thank you, sir."

Abii nodded in response.

Farida alighted from the car and waved a little at me.

"Aren't you going to go in and greet her parents? Especially now that they are in distress. Show a little support."

Abii was right. Had it been Farida in my shoes, I'm pretty sure she would have done just that.

I nodded before alighting from the car.

"Farida!" I called, just before she could pass through the gate.

She stopped and spun around. She had a questionable look written all over her face.

"I want to greet mum and dad too. Is that okay?"

"Of course." She smiled. "let's go."

Inside the house, Farida led me to her parents' room.

"Assalamualaikum." She mumbled and pushed open the door.

Her father was lying down on the bed. It seemed he was sleeping, for his eyes were shut.

Farida knelt beside the bed and took his frail hand in hers. "Dad," She called in a low-pitched voice. "Dad, it's me, Farida. I'm back."

His eyes opened and in a split second, closed again, then reopened. He smiled weakly at his daughter.

I wasn't in the medical field, but I didn't need to be to know that his condition was deteriorating. I wondered why they didn't keep him at the hospital. He seemed exhausted and in pain.

I felt sad. I wished there was something-anything I could do to ease his pain.

"When did you arrive?" He asked.

"Just now." She responded, wiping something from his forehead. "How are you feeling, dad?"

"Much better, alhamdulillah." His voice was barely audible.

Much better?

I wondered if his condition was much worse before.

"Dad! Why didn't you go back to the hospital? I thought we agreed that you'd go back. Didn't you promise me?"

"I did, but the doctor himself discharged me. What would you have had me do? Rebel against him?"

I smiled. Even in his condition-his health and also the disappearance of his son-he still managed to crack a joke.