Author's Note: In the last chapter, Saria returned home from school following the fight between Ahtrai and Adia. When her parents received news of the fight, they informed her in no uncertain terms that Adia was a bad influence and that she ought to choose her friends more carefully. Now, we find Saria preparing for a new day, as another set of guests are coming to visit the Ahmeds.

As always, the typical disclaimers apply. I do not own the Kite Runner, nor any of its characters, plot points, themes or dialogue. I can only claim that which is of mine own invention. I also do not condone the thoughts, actions, feelings or opinions of the characters in this story. This is merely a work of fiction and should be taken as such. And with that stated, please enjoy this next chapter!


Adjusting the blue ribbons in my plaits, I glanced into the mirror on my vanity desk, checking and double-checking to ensure that everything was perfect. As I did so, the door to my room opened. "Are you almost ready, daughter?" Those were the first words that Tanya had spoken to me this morning, not counting the lecture that she'd deigned to curse my eardrums with at the breakfast table this morning.

Here now did she step through the threshold of my room, invading this most personal space of mine. Her arms hung loosely by her sides, fingers absently threading along the hem of her navy pencil skirt, checking and double checking that everything was in order. She reached up, adjusting her blonde hair which today she had opted to sweep up into a neat bun - which coupled with her skirt-and-blouse getup made her look like some kind of accountant.

I rose quickly to my feet, turning to face Tanya as she came to a halt, pointing with a manicured nail to the space in front of her. "Yes, Mama," I replied obediently, making my way over to her. Lowering my gaze, I remained frozen like a statue, allowing my mother to scrutinise my appearance. She walked around me, hands behind her back, looking me up and down, checking my gingham dress for any loose threads, or unnoticed crumbs.

Taking me by the arm, Tanya then spun me gently to face her once more, and placed her index finger underneath my chin. She tilted my head up so that I was looking her in the eye, wiping at my already clean face with her thumb. "Perfect," she said, in a tone that let me know she was daring me to be anything but. "Now, come downstairs with me. Our guests have arrived and I do not wish to make them wait a second longer before they get to meet my charming, angelic, delightful little girl."

Ah yes. There it was. The reason that I was being forced to dress up and be inspected, why Tanya was done up to the nines. Guests. Just the thought of that word made my skin crawl. It was news that had been sprung on my brother and I last night at the dinner table, with Mahmood informing us that two of his associates would be coming round this afternoon, and that we were to be present to meet them.

Tanya extend her hand to me. "Let's go show them what a pretty little dear you are," she cooed, and I felt myself instantly recoil at her words. She was smiling, and when I placed my hand in her own, she rubbed her thumb gently along the back of my palm. It made my skin crawl, to have her show me this kindness, this act of parental affection. For that is all it was, an act. A performance that had been rehearsed as surely as I'd rehearsed the charming persona that I'd have to tap into once we went downstairs.

We made our way downstairs to the living room. Tanya stopped outside the door, turning me so that I faced the wall. She bent down in front of me, smoothing down my skirts, adjusting my dress collar, looking me up and down. Adjusting the ribbon in my hair, she rubbed her palms up and down my arms, smiling that awful grimace, her eyes shining with an emotion that I might only describe as fear or trepidation. She straightened up, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "Now, Saria, you're going to behave yourself for our guests, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mama," I replied, lowering my gaze. What else was I meant to have said? I couldn't very well start screaming and cursing up a storm like I'd done the last time we'd had guests round, now could I? That would only serve to cause me more agony than I'd know how to cope with. No, all I could do now was to switch into 'dutiful, obedient Saria' mode and hope that everything would be over and done with soon enough.

Satisfied by my answer, Tanya pushed open the door to the living room and stepped inside, keeping her palm against the frame so as to allow me leave to enter. "Bakhtiar, Gulpari jan," she said, in a demure voice, as though she was addressing a pair of important dignitaries, "may I please present to you our most charming daughter, our darling Saria Ahmed?"

Flicking on the lightswitch of the performance that I had managed to so expertly perfect over these short years of my life, I made my way into the living room, eyes scanning the new faces that sat staring up at me from the couch. They were husband and wife, I could tell that from their close proximity to one another, how the woman - a dark-haired beauty with her eyes heavy lidded behind makeup, her cheeks rouged, placed her hand gently over the man's. He had greying hair and crows-feet that indicated a clear age-gap between the two.

Bending my knees, I dipped into a low, polite curtsy, head bowed. Tanya had forced me to do this on repeat last night, practicing over and over again until finally I'd done it to her standards. If I'd been a little bit braver, I might have asked what the point of this was, though I knew that doing so would only end in misery.

"Hello," I said politely, in the most charming voice I could muster. "My name is Saria. It is very lovely to meet you, sir, ma'am. Pray welcome to our home." Again, these were all words that I'd learned to say, practiced by rote over years and years of living with a mother and father who demanded nothing but the utmost in 'respect for elders'. As I remained there in my perpetual state of deference, I glanced up slightly, meeting my brother's eyes as he sat in one of the armchairs, hands draped by his sides, drumming against the fabric. How inviting his lap looked in that moment. I wanted nothing more than to climb into his arms, to feel him hold me close, breathe in every inch of him, know that at least someone in this damn room viewed me as a person and not just some little porcelain doll to dress up and parade around for their own brand of entertainment.

It was Gulpari's voice that broke me from this reverie. She got to her feet, beaming as she approached. It was a look that told me I was about to be hugged and that despite my best efforts, there would be no way for me to escape. And sure enough, the instant that she reached me, she lifted me out of that curtsy - perhaps the only damn thing that I was grateful to her for doing - and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me against her. "Oh you precious little dear!" she cooed, pulling back from the hug that was already two-seconds too long and bending down so that she was on eye-level with me. She threaded her fingers through a few strands of my hair, dusted off invisible specks from my dress. "Why, here I was getting all dolled up to meet your mommy and daddy today, and nobody thought to mention that you were the prettiest little lady in the whole house."

The way her voice rose an octave when she addressed me. The simpering tone. The compliment that wasn't really. It all spoke volumes to the fact that she believed she was conversing with a much younger child than she actually was. Hell, I doubted that even Adia was spoken to in this manner, and she was childishness personified. I hated Gulpari, so goddamn much. I know it may seem premature to make such an assesment for a woman that I'd only just met, but that was honest to God how I felt right at that moment. I would have bashed her skull in if I knew I could get away with it.

"And such a well-spoken young lady, too." Bahktiar was approaching me now, too, taking my hand and brushing his lips over the back of it. This action, and the leering gaze in his eyes as he looked down at me made my stomach churn. "That curtsy..." His smile made my entire body want to curl in on itself. "So perfectly practiced and polished. What a wonderful show of respect for your elders. I can tell you, there are quite a few children in these parts that could do with taking a leaf out of your book, young Miss Saria." He turned away from me then, much to my relief, and faced my parents. "You must be so, so proud, Mahmood and Tanya jan, to have raised such a delightful little girl."

Now it was Tanya's turn to soak up some of the praise; something which I knew she would be jumping for joy over internally. "Saria is a true delight," she cooed, wrapping her arm around me and pulling me into an awkward side-hug. She leaned down to kiss my head, keeping her arm wrapped firmly around my shoulder, preventing any form of escape. Her gaze never left the faces of our guests, wanting desperately for them to see what a lovely, tight-knit family we were. "Our perfect little angel, sent to bless us from the heavens." A pointed stare to Mahmood as she extended her hand towards him. "Isn't that right, Mahmood?"

Mahmood smiled. It was an unsettling sight, like watching a shark grinning at its prey. "How right you are, my dear," he said, and I found myself wondering when was the last time he'd used such a term of endearment with her. Did Tanya realise that Mahmood was only doing this to save face in front of our guests, just as she was? Or did she truly believe that his kindness towards her was genuine in this moment? "Saria here is the joy of our lives." Most people don't try to tarnish their alleged joy by whipping its flesh raw with the buckle end of a belt. Mahmood grinned, laughter evident in his voice as he winked mischeviously at Bahktiar and Gulpari. "Living proof that we're capable of getting something right."

Someone laughed. It might have been Bahktiar. It might have been Gulpari. Hell, it might well have been Tanya. I do not know, I cannot say. All I know is that the air seemed to be sucked clear out of the room, and all other voices were drowned out, save for the words that my father had just thrown out so casually, all in the name of complimenting me. 'Living proof that we're capable of getting something right.'

To everyone else, the words might have been little more than a flippant joke, but to me, they were the highest form of blasphemy. A false compliment to me I could bear, bear with a bitter hatred towards those who offered it, but bear it all the same. But this? This was a clear insult levelled towards my brother. Towards both of my brothers, indeed, for I couldn't help feel a pang of sympathy towards Sami at the word 'living'. Only a pang, though, minuscule - for it was my darling Assef for whom I felt such pained compassion for. What must he be thinking, to have been degraded so in front of our guests? What did he feel, watching our parents fuss and fawn all over me, while paying him not a second thought?

It would have bothered me greatly, had the roles been reversed. I looked at my soulmate, wondering what I might see in his eyes. Pain? Rage? Indifference? But Assef had turned his head away, staring at the wall, and there wasn't a single emotion that I could glean from him, no matter how much I wanted to. I wanted to go to him, to take him from these horrendous people and let him know that in my eyes, he would always matter, would always come first. Or even if I could not do that, then I wanted to at least hold his hand, offer him some of my warmth, a warmth that would be but a fraction of the love and devotion that I held within my soul, all for him and nobody else.

Before I could even take a step forward, however, Bahktiar spoke up. "And will your darling daughter-" His leering gaze then turned from me, glancing over at Assef, lips pursed into a thin line, as if he hadn't noticed my brother was there, nor did he want him to be. "- And your charming son-" Those words were dripping with sarcasm, though he tried and failed to hide it. "- be joining us for lunch today, Mahmood jan?"

My stomach churned as he said that. I could just picture it - the awkward encounter, sitting at the dinner table, picking absently at whatever meal Tanya served up for us, feeling the eyes of my parents watching my every move. Wanting to be sat next to Assef, but knowing that I'd probably be forced to sit next to Gulpari and Bahktiar, so that they could fuss over me, asking benign questions that would make me want to shove a fork in their goddamn throats. But rather than add to my suffering, Mahmood's next words, instead, alleviated it. "Ah, no, actually, today is just a day for us grown-ups. I'm certain however that my children will find something else with which to occupy their time. In fact, Assef, Saria jan, may I please speak to you both in the kitchen? It won't be long. Say goodbye to our guests now, won't you?"

Those last words were spoken so patronisingly that there could be no doubt in my mind who they were meant for. I turned to face Gulpari and her husband, sketching another polite curtsy for them. "It was very nice to meet you, Bakhtiar and Gulpari jan. I hope that you enjoy the rest of your day." Then, before either of them could say a word, and certainly before Bahktiar could reach out and touch me again, I made my way to my soulmate, who stood now in the open doorway, extending a hand towards me. I took it and leaned my head against the back of his palm, ignoring the whistling intake of breath that Tanya gave behind us.

Mahmood bid his guests to wait for him, placing a hand on Tanya's shoulder and whispering something into her ear. She nodded like the pathetic sycophant that she was, and Mahmood lead Assef and I from the room, ushering us into the kitchen. Once the door was closed, and we were out of earshot of our irritating houseguests, he turned to face both of us, folding his arms across his chest.

"You two need to make yourselves scarce for the afternoon," he said in a harsh tone. Gone was the man who had called me the "joy of his life", gone was the man who smiled down upon me with all the love of a father, and in his place was the rigid disciplinarian that I'd come to know and fear. "It's imperative for our family that today goes smoothly, and quite frankly I do not need the stress of worrying about you both." He pointed a stern finger at my darling and I in turn. Assef's grip around my hand tightened, a clear sign that Mahmood's words infuriated him. I rubbed the back of his palm with my thumb, silently offering this tiny modicum of reassurance. "Can I assume you'll figure out something to do with yourselves?" Mahmood asked.

Assef nodded, the picture of obedience as he must be. "Of course, Father," he replied, "in fact... I had been thinking of making contact with Kamal, it's been a while since we saw him and-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Mahmood retrieved his wallet from out of a kitchen drawer and began rifling through it. He pulled out several large bills, walked over to Assef, and pressed them into his hands. "Right," he said, "this should be enough to buy lunch for the three of you." Assef pocketed the money, and Mahmood began herding us back out the kitchen door, pointing towards his office. "Go and ring Kamal, see if he'll want to meet up." A pause. "Though even if he doesn't, I still want you both gone until evenfall, we clear on that?"

"Yes, Father," Assef replied, ushering me into the hall. "You won't see hide nor hair of us for the rest of the day. Fucking prick," he added in German, free hand clenched into a fist. I wondered again if Mahmood's earlier words had indeed bothered him as I'd suspected, but couldn't quite bring myself to ask. We made our way into Mahmood's office, and Assef crossed to the phone. Seating himself in our father's large, straight-backed chair, he beckoned for me to come to him. And I, who had gone for far too long without my beloved's arms wrapped around me, was at his side before I'd even had a chance to think, cooing in delight as he pulled me into his lap, snuggled so close to him that if one were to spy us together, they could not tell where Assef ended and Saria began.

My brother lifted the receiver to his ear, dialling the number for Kamal's house. After a few moments or so, during which time the only sound was the distanct ringing of the telephone line, I heard Kamal's muffled voice on the other end. "Uhm... hello?"

"Kamal jan! It's Assef." Kamal said something else in response to this, but I was unable to hear his words. My soulmate continued to do most of the talking, however. "You're not doing anything today, are you?" From the way he said this, I could tell it was a statement framed as a question. "Oh, good. Yeah. That's good. Mhmm. Well, here's the thing.." Assef glanced towards the door, lowering his voice just so in case Mahmood might be listening in. "We've got guests round for the afternoon." A pause. "Yeah. Something like that. I don't know. But the point is, they're wanting us gone for the afternoon, and well, I've just been giving quite a sizeable amount of cash to make that happen. Enough to, oh, you know, buy lunch for three?" Kamal said something else that I couldn't quite make out, but it must have been positive if my brother's tone was anything by which to measure it. "Oh, you can? That's great! We'll meet you in the market. Mhm. Outside Saifo's shop, yes. Alright. See you then."

The two said their goodbyes, Assef hanging up the phone. I slid down from his lap, brushing a stray strand of hair back behind my ear. "Well, that's our afternoon set out and planned for us, Liebchen," my brother said, lifting my hand to his lips and tenderly kissing the back of it. "Go and get your coat, Saria, I'll meet you 'round back, okay?"

I didn't need to ask why he wanted us to leave the house through the back door rather than the front. True, it might have been the longer way to go, but that was a small price to pay when the other option was needing to pass by the living room and having idiotic guests wanting to say their farewells to us. He was probably trying to spare me the embarrassment of being hugged by Gulpari again, or having Bakhtiar stare at me in that unsettling manner of his. How thankful I was to have such a concered older brother to look out for me.

Ensuring not to make a sound, I tiptoed my way back into the hall, coming to stop by the downstairs closet. Not wanting to risk going back upstairs and running into one of the four assholes that were just a hairs-breadth away, I whispered a silent prayer that one of my coats would be in here, then reached out and, yanked the door open. Reaching on tiptoe, I flicked the lightswitch, revealing several winter coats ready for me to choose from. I removed a navy one and slid it on, doing up the buttons with tiny fingers. Once that task had been completed, I made my way through the kitchen, to where my darling waited for me, hand outstretched.

"Ready to go?" he asked, taking my hand in his, rubbing his thumb along the back of it.

I nodded, and together we made our way out of the back door, Assef locking it behind him. Across the garden we walked, through the gate, and out into the world beyond. It felt so freeing to be able to get away from the house, away from the tension, the whispers, the forced "happy family" motif that Tanya expected us to adhere to in the presence of other people. Getting to spend the afternoon in the presence of my beloved soulmate was enough to make me want to swoon in delight, my heartbeat fluttering at the thought of being able to dine out with him.

True, we wouldn't be alone as I might have preferred, but if we had to add a third party to our outing, I was satisfied that of all people, it would be Kamal. He had always shown himself to be loyal and devoted, just as one of my brother's friends ought to be. Maybe it was wrong of me to play favourites like this, but I couldn't help it. Whatever care I could offer to Assef's friends would forever go to Kamal. He more than deserved the privilege of being included in the small list of people that Saria Ahmed holds compassion for, now wouldn't you agree?

The market was exceptionally busy today, as one might expect of a Saturday afternoon. Men and women perused the stalls, while their children ran about at their feet, yapping like irritating mutts. One woman in particular seemed to be having trouble corralling her brood of mini-brats. She held a baby on her hip - the infant seemed to be in that state of development where they wanted nothing more than to perform gymnastics far beyond their age, which would probably lead to them falling out of their mother's arms and cracking their tiny skull open on the ground below. As the woman struggled to hold the babe, two other children, who looked to be between two and four years old, gallivanted back and forth, shrieking in laughter.

"Should've just let the little shits stay home if you couldn't control them," I muttered in German as we passed, eyes narrowed in detestation as one of the brats tripped the other up, and they both erupted into shrieks, which caused their sibling to add yet another ear-splitting howl to the fray. Their mother tried to calm the situation, but it was useless. "But, you know, far be it from a twelve-year-old child to tell you how to parent."

But let the children cry, and let their mother deal with them. They were of no concern to me. I sidled closer to my darling, keeping my hand firmly in his as we walked further and further into the bustling market. "Stay close to me, Saria," Assef whispered, as he always did when we were in a busy place. Had anyone else said those words to me, I'd have been incensed and considered them to be patronising, but when it came to my darling brother, I knew he was only speaking from a place of true and genuine concern for me. He wanted to provide me the safety and protection that I had long been denied in my short life.

Saifo's Kite Shop came into view, and I craned my neck, standing on tiptoe to see if perhaps I might spot Kamal, that he would be there waiting for us. But there was no sign of him, and thus my shoulders slumped in dejection. "He'd better not be late," I grumbled to Assef, rolling my eyes. Patience was never one of my strong suits, and damn anyone who dared to make me wait.

Assef pressed his lips to the side of my head, drawing me in close. "He's probably just caught up at home, Liebchen. You know how much of a worry-wart his mother is." That was true. Kamal's mother still treated her son as if he was this precious and fragile thing that needed to be wrapped up in cotton wool and kept safe from this big, bad world. I could just imagine Naghma, fussing over her precious boy, making sure he was all bundled up against the cold weather, reminding him of what to do in case of emergencies, telling him when to get back.

I almost wanted to feel sorry for Kamal. I knew what having an overbearing, controlling mother was like, after all. But even as this twinge of empathy flickered within me, I was then reminded of the fact that Naghma had never, nor would she ever, laid her hands on Kamal, never brutalised him to the point where he was left a quivering and shaking mess on the kitchen floor, never violently struck him nigh-on forty times with the same force they used in public lashings, never took out her own pain and anger on her son. And just like that, we were back to 'almost'. Kamal might have been treated with kid gloves at home, but still, he didn't know how truly lucky he had it.

As I hopped up on the windowsill outside of the shop, my gaze travelled across the people still meandering their way through the market. It was then that I saw him. No, not Kamal, he was still pushing dangerously close to the borders of running late. Amir. Yes, that's right, the boy that I had set my sights upon. The bookish, nerdy kid that I was planning to mold into the perfect parnter one day. He was out with his father, and appeared to be struggling to keep up with the older man's stride. For the briefest moment, as he glanced around, our eyes met.

My heart ought to have been fluttering in that instant. I should have been giddy like a schoolgirl with a crush, should have been blushing and kicking my feet and swooning at the mere sight of him. And yet... as he turned to face me, and our eyes met for the briefest moment, I realised with a sickening feeling just how lost and forlorn Amir looked. Those innocent eyes that had once endeared me to him were now shrouded in misery, as if the weight of the entire world hung upon his skinny shoulders. His father was talking to him, trying to engage the boy in lively conversation, but Amir paid him no mind. His fearful gaze remained enraptured on my brother and I, as though afraid we might jump out and attack him any moment.

In truth, I couldn't really blame him for being wary. The last time Amir and I had sene one another, I had been shrieking like a banshee and trying to knock his servant - servant, not friend, never friend - to the ground and beat the living crap out of him for daring to threaten my brother. I'd let my darker impulses get the best of me in that moment, although, who could blame me, given what Hassan was promising to do to my other half with that damn slingshot? What kind of sister, friend, soulmate, would I be if I had just stood by and done nothing? Hassan had paid dearly for what he'd done, though, a price that even now I did not like to think about. He was entirely absent from this little outing; I could only hope that he and Amir had gotten into another 'domestic' as my beloved Assef called them.

My brother leaned over to me, pressing his lips to the side of my head. "I think I see Kamal, Liebchen," he said, getting to his feet and waving someone over. But I didn't care about Kamal in that moment. My attention was still focused on Amir, who was trying, and failing, to remain engaged in the conversation that his father was having with him. Janser was making a valiant effort to keep his son immersed in what was going on, but Amir's mind seemed to have travelled off to some far-distance place, maybe trying to hide from whatever troubles he was facing.

"Saria!" Assef beckoned me to him. I rose to my feet, dusted off the front of my dress, and made my way over to where he and the newly-arrived Kamal were now standing. Assef was grinning, clapping Kamal on the back. He obviously didn't notice Amir, then, I thought, as I glanced over my shoulder to see the boy and his father walking in the opposite direction, Amir's head downcast, staring pointedly at the ground. "Saria?" Assef reached out with one arm, drawing me close. He looked down at me, concern painted on his face. "What is it, Liebchen? Something going on? You seem... entranced by something."

The words lay on the tip of my tongue. I could have just told him about Amir, right? What real harm would have come from it? But then... Assef never took too kindly to the idea of Amir, and more to the point, talking about him might have lead to a conversation about Hassan, which was something I absolutely did not want or need. I decided it best to just push any thoughts of my potential future husband to the back of my mind. I would deal with Amir - alone if needs be.

Leaning my head down on the back of my darling's palm, I squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's nothing, Assef jan, just nothing. I was only caught up in a bit of daydreaming, that's all. Nothing to worry about." Before he could question me, I pulled away, offering my typical polite smile and demure greeting to Kamal, extending my hand out to him. "Good afternoon, Kamal jan, how lovely to see you again."

"How lovely to see you too, Saria jan." Kamal took my offered hand, and shook it. There was a distinct mischeviousness in his tone, and he winked as he said the words. A game between the two of us - Kamal didn't know everything about me in the way that Assef did, of course, but being so close to my brother and I meant he surely had learned some of my little mannerisms - knew when I was being charming and when I was jokingly playing along. That was one of the things I liked about Kamal - that and the fact that he wasn't kissing my hand like that creep Bahktiar had done.

Kamal stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "So, uh... what's the plan for today?" he asked, biting his lip. "I've been told not to stay out for too long." Ah, there was that classic Naghma overprotectiveness again. "So I can't, well... you know..."

Placing a hand on Kamal's shoulder, Assef grinned. "No worries, Kam, I doubt we're gonna be out for the night." He reached into his pocket, removing from it the money that Mahmood had given him. "What'd I tell you? More than enough to buy lunch for the three of us. So... where'd you reckon we ought to go?"

Though he addressed the question to both Kamal and I, it was my gaze that he held, his blue eyes shimmering with gentle anticipation as he waited for my answer. I placed a hand to my mouth, tap-tap tapping my finger against my slightly parted lips. Where to go, where to go? I certainly didn't want to suggest some overly expensive place - though I had no qualms about watching Mahmood's cash be pissed down the drain, I still wanted my brother to have a bit of money left over for himself. There was no reason he had to splurge it all on Kamal and I, right?

And yet... I couldn't quite think of anywhere that would serve decent food at a price that wouldn't wreck our budget. "I..." I looked apologetically up at my brother. "Sorry. Just... just give me a second and I'll try to think of something, okay?"

Kamal opened his mouth. For a second, I wondered if he might throw a suggestion of his own into the ring, but before even a single word could pass from his lips, Assef cut across him, placing a gentle hand against the back of my head. "What about Belourine's?" he suggested. "I mean, it's not too far from here, and it's pretty much a guarantee that they'll have something you'd like." It was clear from his tone that this was of paramount importance to him. "If you'd like to go there, then we can, alright?"

Well, it would certainly stave off my worries about making him waste the cash, wouldn't it? And he was right - what sense was there in going to some new place when the old reliable was right there? My darling had, as was his gift, found the best solution to this minor crisis. "I'd like that, Assef, please. You sure you don't mind if we go there again?"

"Course I don't," was his simple and easy response, hand reaching down to squeeze mine. He looked at Kamal, then, who was standing with his hands in his pockets, kicking up loose bits of gravel. "I mean, you're good with that too, Kam, right?" There was an undertone to that question, and a pointed look shared between the two boys in which I understood my brother to be informing Kamal of the plan, and expecting his acquiense, not his opinion, on the matter. This day was to be mine to rule, and I knew my soulmate would ensure I had all I could desire.

Another nod. That was answer enough for my brother and I, and without further ado, we began the walk down the street to Belourine's cafe. Assef and Kamal chatted amongst themselves while I walked on ahead, allowing them their space. As the familiar signage for the establishmnent came into view, I resigned myself to the fact that I would need to play that role once more. The role of sweet, innocent, demure little Saria. The charming, butter-wouldn't-melt angelic precocious delight that Belourine simpered over. No, it wasn't something that I was happy with, but it was a sacrifice that would need to be made. This was what I'd chosen, after all.

I began humming to myself, an old children's folksong more often sung by little ones gifted with far more innocence than I. Almost there... oh, how I hoped that Belourine would be too busy serving other patrons to take any notice of me. But alas, was there even the slightest chance that she would ever ignore her favourite customer? I knew I was grasping at straws, sending up prayers that would never be answered. That didn't mean I couldn't seek some comfort, though, and as the three of us stepped through the doorway, and Belourine's gaze fell upon me, her eyes lighting up and a simpering grin forming on her lips, I moved closer to my darling, who immediately left Kamal to his own devices and wrapped an arm around me, squeezing me against him.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite little customer!" the woman cooed, bending down so that she was on a level with me. She pulled me away from my brother, who could do nothing but watch as I was manhandled into an embrace, before Belourine pulled back and cupped my cheek, pinching it the way that an irritatingly affectionate aunt might do. "And don't you look as lovely and precious as ever?" She reached for me again, but before the woman had even the chance to touch me, Assef stepped forward, wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and pulled me back to his side.

"Table for three, Belourine, please." Though his tone was polite, there was no denying the firmness in his words. My brother was never one for false pleasantries, and though I might have been forced to play the game, he would do whatever it took to ensure I did not have to do so for long. I moved closer to him, while Kamal hovered slightly in the background.

Belourine looked at Assef, and for a moment I wondered if perhaps she was annoyed that he'd stopped her from fussing over me. She might have found his bluntness to be disrespectful on some level, though it wasn't as if I gave a shit either way. Then she smiled. "Of course, of course, right this way." Turning on her heel, Belourine began walking through the crowded restaraunt, grabbing up three menus as she did so. The three of us followed along behind her, Assef and I in front and Kamal bringing up the rear. Eventually, we reached an empty booth, and Belourine placed the menus down on the table, flipping the upturned glasses over and straightening the napkins that rested there.

"This is great, Belourine, thank you." Assef motioned for me to sit in the banquette, which I did so. He slid into the seat beside me, while Kamal sat in the hardbacked chair opposite us. My other half picked up a menu and began reading through it, clearly wanting to indicate that we no longer needed her to hover around. Belourine stepped away from the table, then walked away and moved over to some other patrons.

Annoying old bitch, I thought, sticking up my thumb at her back. Assef, noticing this, grinned and drew his arm over my shoulder, pulling me against his chest as he muttered in German, "still the same fucking busybody as always, isn't she, Liebchen?" I nodded, and my soulmate lifted my hand, playing with my fingertips before bringing them to his lips and kissing them softly. Then he looked at Kamal, grinned and switched to Farsi, his tone a lot lower now for obvious reasons, "see, Kamal, the food here is to die for but the service, well..."

He threw his eyes up to heaven in a very exasperated fashion, a gesture that made Kamal laugh. "Yeah," he hummed, looking over the back of his chair to where Belourine was standing a few tables over, fussing over another customer. She threw her head back and let out this grating chuckle, as if whatever had been said earlier was so funny that she just simply had to be as loud as possible in her response. Kamal's mouth pursed into a thin line. "Looked like she was going to squeeze the life outta you, Saria," he said, and wasn't that an apt analogy? Belourine's hugs were always much too tight for comfort, and that wasn't even getting into the fact that I barely fucking knew the woman.

I shrugged. "I'm used to it. Like Assef says, the food is more than worth the hindrance. Oh, and speaking of-" Motioning to the menu in front of me, I indicated for Kamal to pick it up and begin reading. He did so obediently, whether because he wanted to adhere to my whims or because he knew my brother was watching him, I cannot say, but whatever the casbe, soon his head was bowed and he was scanning the little piece of laminated paper for something to eat. I began doing the same, though anyone who knew a damn thing about me knew that there was one dish on the menu that I craved above all others, and though I'd tried quite a few things on this menu, nothing could beat the delicious, melt-in-the-mouth taste of Belourine's homecooked aushak.

Scanning through his own menu, my darling pursed his lips. "Mantu for me, I think," he said, after a few moments of thought. "And I don't think I need to ask what you'll be having?" he added, playfully tapping my nose with the tip of his index finger. I giggled and snuggled against his chest, beaming up at him as we both laid our menus back down on the table, indicating that we were ready to order. "And you, Kamal?" Assef asked, and I lifted my head to notice that Kamal was still perusing through the options, his face contorted, brow furrowed as he tried to decide what to eat.

"I don't..." Kamal's tongue darted out between his lips. He tapped the menu once, twice, and then a third time, as though doing so might make the answer appear right in front of his very eyes. "I mean, there's a lot of options, and they all sound good, you know? Anything you two'd suggest?" It was Assef who replied, while I set about looking across at varying tables trying to get someone's attention.

He leaned over to tap the menu in Kamal's hand with his index finger. "Saria swears by the aushak, don't you, love?" he asked, glancing back at me. I nodded, and he continued, "and I'm having the mantu, that's always a treat. Suppose it all depends on what you're interested in, really. Can't make that choice for you." It was at this point that I noticed a waitress - not Belourine, thank goodness, but a tall, willowy woman with hair hanging down her back in a long plait - who wasn't dealing with any other tables. I raised my hand, standing from my seat little so that she might better see me, and began waving her over.

The waitress arrived at our table, hands behind her back. She surveyed us all. "Yes, are you ready to order?" she asked. We nodded, and she removed a small notepad from inside her apron's pocket. She flipped it open, pen poised and ready to transcribe our words. Assef and I told her what we wanted, with me making sure to lower my gaze and appear as demure and sweet as possible. Once she had written down our orders, the waitress turned to Kamal, who was still perusing over the menu.

"And what can I get for you?" Though she was trying to be patient, I could tell from the look in her eyes that she wanted him to hurry on and get this over with. I wondered how many other people she'd served this afternoon already, and when she'd get the chance to go home. Truly, I did not envy her - I think I'd have gone stir-crazy if I was forced to cater to dozens of people's whims. And given how rudely people treated waiting staff, well, you can be assured there'd be bedfellows in the ground for Zainab if I ever had the misfortune to take on such a profession.

Kamal's tongue darted out between his lips. He perused the menu again, before looking up at Assef and I. After a moment or so, he finally decided on a dish. "I'll take the mantu as well, please." The waitress wrote down his order, placed her notepad back inside her apron, and walked away. I hoped it wouldn't be long before the food arrived - I had to admit I was starting to work up a bit of an appetite, doing all of this posturing for guests. Indeed, as the three of us sat there, casually chatting, waiting for our food to arrive, I wondered briefly how things were shaping up back home.

I could just imagine Tanya and Mahmood, playing up the role of the perfect host and hostess. How Mahmood would expect his wife to behave like some glorified servant, just the same as she expected from her daughter. I thought about the awkward conversations that were no doubt taking place, the ingratiation, the sycophancy. Oh, how thankful I was in that moment that Mahmood had kicked us out of the house. It was bad enough to have been forced to greet our guests in the first place - for no fucking reason in my eyes, can you just imagine how things might have gone if we'd been forced to stay?

No, it was much better to be here, to be in this moment with two people I cared about. Snuggled tight against my darling's chest, our hands intertwined, his other hand resting atop my knee, occasionally leaning down to press featherlight kisses to my fingertips and the inside of my palm. About twenty minutes passed, until eventually Belourine approached us, balancing three bowls over her arms. I gritted my teeth at the sight of her, moving slightly away from Assef and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Let's see here, I have two mantus?" Assef and Kamal both nodded, and she placed the bowls in front of them, leaning across the table to hand Assef his. Then, the normal tone that she'd been using to speak to them disappeared, and she put on that patronizing baby voice that one uses when speaking to a toddler. "And I don't suppose I need to ask who ordered Khala Belourine's delicious aushak, do I?" she cooed, beaming down at me with a smile that made me want to rip out her teeth and fashion them into a fucking necklace. At least then they might serve some worthwhile purpose, would they not?

"Well considering there's three people here and my sister's the only one who hasn't gotten her food, I don't know who the fuck else it could be, you annoying fucking bitch," Assef said in German, looking directly at Belourine as he said it. I had to avert my gaze to keep myself from laughing.

Belourine's brow furrowed and her lips parted in a look of confusion that made her appear rather stupid - as if she needed any help with that. "Uhm... I'm sorry, I don't quite understand...?"

Assef shook his head, indicating that she should just place the bowl of aushak on the table for me. "It's nothing, never mind." He placed a hand on my back and leaned down, cooing softly into my ear. "Saria, sweetheart, what do you say to Khala Belourine?" Had anyone else spoken to me like that, I'd have bashed his skull against the table, but of course, my Assef was only trying to help me play the role, and what blame could I place on him for that?

I bowed my head politely as Belourine placed the dish in front of me. "Thank you, Khala Belourine, this looks delicious."

"You're very welcome, sweetie, now you just be careful with that, okay? It's very hot." Well, I should fucking hope so considering it's a cooked fucking meal, I thought. "Might want to get your big brother to blow on it for you, just in case." Was she serious? Was she honestly fucking serious? How old did she think I was, three? If I hadn't hated the woman before, then I most certainly did now. I wanted to smash her head in, to throw the bowl of steaming-hot aushak in her face and watch her writhe in pain from the burns I'd hopefully inflict by doing so.

But as I filled my mind with these gruesome images, my hand clenched into a fist under the table, I didn't even notice that Belourine had moved away from our table, not until Assef leaned down to whisper in my ear. "She's gone, Liebchen, she's gone." Finally, I could breathe a sigh of relief. Now we could just get on with enjoying our meal, and soon the three of us were digging in, chatting and laughing about any topics that we could think of. Kamal and Assef swapped stories and joked about past excursions, though I noted that neither of them mentioned Wali, instead choosing only to discuss times when he hadn't been present. It was as if the two of them had come to an unspoken agreement never to mention Wali's name, as if he no longer existed.

Kamal swallowed a mouthful of mantu, grinning across the table at us. "This," he said, gesturing with his fork, "is some of the best food I've tasted in a long time. Far better than the crap version my mom tries to make. I can see why you both like this place." He took another bite, having now wiped his own plate almost clean.

"Don't let your mother hear you say that about her cooking, you know how great a chef she thinks she is," Assef mock-scolded, aiming a forkful of his own mantu in Kamal's direction, grinning. Kamal rolled his eyes. I didn't blame him for hating his mother's cooking. I'd only experienced Naghma's attempts to cook once before, when she'd babysat my brother and I when we were young children. The less said about the "meal" that she had made for us, the better.

As we were finishing up our food, our plates almost wiped clean, Assef wrapped his arm around me and drew me in close. I snuggled in close to him, looking up at him with all of the love and devotion that I could show in my eyes. He took my hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing them softly against my fingertips while I made a soft, cooing noise of delight. All the other patrons in the restaraunt disappeared in that moment, that nobody else mattered in the world but my soulmate and I. Oh, how I could have floated in this perfect bliss with him for the rest of eternity.

And yet... when I looked up from where my head rested on Assef's chest, I noticed Kamal staring at us both. He was absently tapping his fork against his now empty-plate, moving it round and round as if trying to find food that was no longer there. Though it seemed as though his heart wasn't quite in it. Instead, his gaze was focused entirely on my brother and I, staring down at our intertwined hands, our bodies sandwiched together, and the loving looks that we were giving to each other. Kamal made a strange, almost strangled noise, low in the back of his throat - as if he'd wanted to hum but had mistakenly whined instead, and took in a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, creating a whistling noise.

Oh, goddamn it, I thought, balling my free hand into a fist, eyes narrowing into two slits as I glared at Kamal. Fuck sake, Kamal, not you too! Why does everyone seem to have this fucking issue with me showing love to my brother? It's as if you've never seen a loving sibling relationship before, which is quite pathetic in and of itself if you think about it, really. Well, my brother's friend or not, if this keeps up I'm gonna have to say something. Gonna have to step in before you get too big for your damn boots. Just try and make fun of the love my darling and I share; just fucking try!

But just as I was thinking this, Kamal looked away, turned his head so that he no longer had to see my brother and I. There was a sadness in his eyes that I didn't quite understand, trapped tears that spun tight in their corners, lowering his gaze to the floor, then glancing up once more, but turning his gaze instead now to search if there was any waiting staff around. The sadness in his eyes baffled me. Sure, I'd have expected disgust, came to acknowledge it as par for the fucking course, really, but sadness? Almost crying? No, that was different. That was... odd.

I wanted to ask if Kamal was okay, if there was something else bothering him. Something going on at home, perhaps? An argument between him and his overbearing mother? Was his family life not quite as idyllic as I'd believed - and being an only child, was he perhaps jealous of the bond that Assef and I shared? But just as I was about to open my mouth to speak again, Assef got there ahead of me.

"Everything alright there, Kam?" he asked, kissing me gently on the forehead as he did so. I swooned, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Assef tapped me on the nose, grinning down at me before turning his attention back to Kamal who had picked up the salt-sheller and began spinning it back and forth in his hands.

Kamal shrugged. "Mhm, yeah. Just thinking, is all." He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. But rather than continue to bombard him with questions, my other half must have realized that doing so would only cause tensions to heighten and none of us needed to deal with that, so he simply nodded, disentangled his arms from around me and motioned for me to sit up. I did so, and he smiled down at me.

Glancing down at our empty plates, Assef then asked, "I suppose I'd best see if I can grab somebody's attention so that I can pay for this," he said, in a tone that made it clear that were it in any way possible, we could have just stood up, walked out the door and left without paying a dime. Not that I could have blamed him for this. After all, if Belourine really did think of me as her 'favourite customer', then why should I have to pay for her food? She thought I was so amazing, so sweet and darling and wonderful? Then my fucking presence should have been enough of a payment for her, should it not?

But lo, this was not to be and instead, my precious brother would have to be parted with the money our father had given him. After a few more moments wherein no waiting staff appeared to be coming to help us, Assef got to his feet, motioning for Kamal and I to do the same. "We can just go up to the register and pay there," he said, rolling his eyes at the fact that we had to do so in the first place. I slid out of my seat and put my coat back on, tiny fingers fumbling with the buttons on my coat, watching as Kamal zipped up his jacket and lingered against his chair, glancing over at my brother as if wondering if he ought to take his lead on what to do next.

Assef extended his hand to me, smiling as he did so. I slipped my hand into his, and he rubbed his thumb across the back of it. Then, inclining his head towards Kamal, indicating that he should follow us, he began to lead us over to the register. It was with a sigh of frustration that I noticed Belourine stood behind it, offering yet another saccharine grin as we approached.

"Well, did you all enjoy your meal?" she asked, paying particular attention to myself and Kamal as she said so. It was clear she wanted not only to impress her favourite customer, but to keep the new one coming back for repeat business. Well, if she didn't pull that stick out of her ass and start treating all of us - least of all my soulmate, who she had deigned to all but completely ignore - like human fucking beings and not dolls to play around with, then you can rest assured she would have no more of our custom, of that I can say with genuine certainty.

I squeezed Assef's hand, a signal to him that I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. He patted me on the shoulder. "Just let me pay the old bitch and we'll be out of here, Liebchen," he said in German, before turning his attention to Belourine, and offering her another one of his charming smiles, the type that would have made anyone swoon - and I speak here from past experience. It was this charming grin that was another talent my darling had passed on to me. The Ahmed siblings could well have had the world brought to their knees with our charm alone.

Yet in this case, my darling's charm was not to conquer, but merely to get us out of an unpleasant situaton. "Delightful as always, Belourine," he said, "the bill now, if you please?"

Belourine nodded, yet again a little taken aback by how little my brother engaged with her and her fake sincerity. She passed the bill over to him, and he reached into his trouser pocket with the hand that was not holding mine, removing from it a wad of cash. Rifling through the bills, he selected a few and laid them down upon the register, not even bothering to touch Belourine's hand as she extended it out to him. "There, that covers it, Belourine, thank you again. Come along, sister. Kamal."

He swept past her before she even had a chance to respond, while she was still counting the money he'd given her and lead Kamal and I out of the building. And oh, what bliss it was to feel the crisp air on my skin again. I closed my eyes, breathing it in, feeling the gentle breeze. Assef brushed a lock of golden hair back behind my ear, twirling his fingers around one of the strands. "Enjoyed your meal, Liebchen?" he asked, to which I nodded.

"Yes, thank you, brother. Food was delicious as always." For all I hated the owner of the establishment, Belourine's Cafe provided some of the best food this side of Wazir-Akbhar-Khan, of that there was no doubt.

Assef grinned down at me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and holding me close. "Knew you'd like it, little sister." He then turned to Kamal, who was kicking up a few loose pieces of gravel with the toe of his shoe. "What 'bout you, Kam? What'd you rate your first experience in there?"

"T'was nice." Kamal shrugged.

"Yeah, it always is, really," Assef responded. He smiled down at me. "It's Saria's favourite place to go and eat, so I try to take her every chance I can get. Now that I know you like it, too, well, I'll have to treat the both of you more often."

And hopefully he can spend Mahmood's money on those occasions, too, I thought, a sly grin forming across my lips as I imagined just what we could get up to if we could get our hands on some more of our parents' cash. And let me make it clear, it wouldn't matter if Mahmood and Tanya gave us that money to spend out of the "kindness of their hearts", shall we say, or if we had to go ahead and steal it - whatever the case, I rather think my other half and I deserved countless amounts of monetary compensation; it would be the very least that they could do after everything those fucks had put us through.

"That would... I'd appreciate that, Assef jan." Kamal smiled, though I noticed as he did so that it didn't quite reach his eyes. Again, I found myself becoming morbidly curious by what might have been bothering him. Not that there was anything I could - or indeed would - have done to help, but part of me just wanted to know. Or maybe I was simply reading too much into things? Maybe there was nothing bothering Kamal at all, and the pain that glistened in his eyes was something that I was merely placing on him. Who's to say?

But whatever the case, let me state that if I was going to have to share my brother's time with anyone, then at least it would be Kamal. He'd always been the favourite of my darling's friends. Always kind and respectful, both to me and my soulmate. He had never stepped a toe out of line, never once given my other half or I any reason to distrust that he had anything less than the purest of intention. Kamal knew his place, knew who he belonged to, and knew where he stood upon the hierarchy of our newly made trio. Could I have asked for anything better in one of my brother's friends?

Kamal ran a hand through his hair, then scratched the back of his neck. "So, uhm... what do you suppose we do now?" he asked, all the while looking pointedly at my brother for the answer, knowing that it would be his opinion, and indeed my own, too, that mattered in this and all future endeavours. Though I too would deign to let my other half take the lead here, whatever he chose for us to do, then do that we should. It was only fair given that I had been the one to dictate where we went to eat, now wouldn't you agree?

"Well..." Assef looked down at his wrist, upon which rested his American-style watch. "Given what time it is now, I think we can safely say that our parents' guests are still going to be there, and I honestly don't want to deal with seeing or speaking to them - or having to watch them fuss over Saria." He gave me a sympathetic glance, biting his lower lip. "And I can tell you don't want that either, now do you, Liebchen?"

I shook my head; I could conceive of no worse way to spend my time than with a creepy lecherous old man like Bakhtiar or a ingratiating, fawning bitch like Gulpari. That's not even to mention the knife-cutting tension that would have been there courtesy of Mahmood and Tanya. No, it would be far better indeed that we didn't go home. At least, not yet. Not until we could be more than certain that the guests had fucked right off and we'd be able to have some sort of relative peace. Glancing down at my brother's watch, I made note of the time. They might well be finished with their own lunch for now, but who's to say that they'd have left yet? It would be considered rude indeed in Tanya Ahmed's eyes to kick a guest out of your home before they were ready to be on their merry way.

Assef nodded. "Yeah, I figured as much. Well, I suppose we could just hang around here for a little while longer. I've still got some cash left over, so we could just see what's in the shops, maybe buy ourselves a few of those candies that your mother's always worried you might choke on." Kamal threw his eyes playfully up to heaven, muttering something under his breath about what a worry-wart his mother was.

But he did agree with my soulmate's suggestion. "Mhm, yeah, that does sound like a good idea, Assef. I've probably got another hour or two at least before I'll need to start heading back. A quick trip 'round the market should pass away the time quite nicely, really." Now, I must admit, had it been anyone else that spoke those words, I would have found their ingratiating sycophancy to be rather annoying, and that would be putting it midly. But like I said, Kamal had a soft spot in my heart - a spot that had grown rather exponentially recently - and hence I thought it was sweet how much he wanted to please my darling and I.

"Great!" Assef clapped his hands together, before offering his arm to me. "Well now, let's not waste any more time standing around here, don't want to risk Belourine coming out for a friendly chit-chat, now do we?" No, no we most certainly did not. I hooked my tiny hand through the crook of Assef's elbow, and the two of us began to walk away from the cafe, back to the center of the marketplace - with Kamal traipsing alongside us. I looked up at him, walking next to my soulmate and I, and I couldn't help but to offer him a cordial smile, one which he returned.

About ten or fifteen minutes into our market trip, we were just casually window-shopping, going in and out of a few shops but never really finding anything quite worth buying, (aside from a selection of hard candies) certainly not anything that would be worth my darling spending too much more of the money he had. Eventually, we came across a family-owned establishment that I could remember going into a few times in my youth. They sold a variety of trinkets, and seemed to be embracing a more Americanized style, hence their prices were always a little bit higher than that of other shops around here. I found myself intrigued, eyes glancing towards the display in the window, looking at everything that they had on offer.

It seemed I wasn't the only one doing so, either. My brother would also periodically glance at the shop window, then back down at his pocket. He reached inside, muttering under his breath, then stopping, and muttering again. Then he turned to Kamal and I.

"You two stay here," he said. I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him that wherever he went, I'd be going too, but he knelt down to my level, took my hand in his, and kissed the back of it, distracting me with giddy delight before I could even get a word in. Then he leaned in close, beckoning me towards him. I obediently moved my head closer, and he stage-whispered in my ear; "now, you'll make sure Kamal doesn't get into too much trouble, won't you, Liebchen?" I nodded, and Kamal scoffed mockingly, sticking his tongue out playfully. Assef winked at me, straightened up, and before either Kamal or I could say another word, he had turned on his heel and walked into the shop, the bell above the door ringing as he did so, leaving us both standing outside.

There was a wall near to where the shop was situated. Kamal glanced towards it, then motioned for me to follow him. Together, we went to sit down upon it, my legs dangling, his easily reaching the ground. Kamal began to absently play with his fingers, tracing his knuckles the way that one might do if they had a ring there. He said not a word, perhaps unsure of what to say, unsure of how to interact with his friend's little sister. How was he meant to act? What was appropriate to say? It wasn't as if we spent all that much time alone, Kamal and I, and the last time we'd seen each other, well...

The memory flooded through me before I could stop it, hitting me in the face like a geyser of water. I'd tried so hard this afternoon to push it to the back of my mind, to not think of the event that had transpired the last time I'd seen Kamal, but like all painful memories, they can only be hidden for so long before they came racing back to the surface. And the memory of Kamal wrestling with my brother, desperately trying to haul him away from our mother, trying to stop Assef from beating the living daylights out of Tanya, it was painful beyond measure. I remembered lying there, wide-eyed on the kitchen floor, seeing the raw and violent extent to which Assef would have gone to protect me. And much as I had been enthralled by it, much as I believed then and do still to this day that Tanya got far less than she deserved, the consequences that my soulmate would have faced had he been allowed to continue just didn't bear thinking about.

Indeed, the consquences that had befallen us were yet unbearable, and yet bear it we'd had to. Even now, the agony of the whipping Tanya had delivered to me, and the sheer raw pain in my other half's eyes as he was forced to watch, pinned to the kitchen tiles and made to bear witness to the suffering of the person he loved most in the world, told repeatedly by Mahmood that this was his fault, that this was his beating I was receiving, that the lashes against my skin and my shrieks of pain should have been his burden to bear, it hurt me in a way that I cannot ever properly describe.

Our family had been changed in many ways that afternoon, and, sitting here with Kamal, I wondered if his relationship with my brother had gone in a new direction. It had to, surely? If I had needed to prevent Adia from beating up Faraya or Javid (and oh, how that mental image brought a smile to my face), then I could never quite look at her in the same way again. And sure, Assef wasn't at all shy about exposing his friends to violence - but there was a stark difference between attacking random people and attacking a member of your own family, wasn't there? It had to have made an impact on him, of that there was no doubt.

"Saria?"

Kamal's voice, tentative and unsure, yet so lost was I in my reverie that hearing it made me jump. I turned to face him, tearing my eyes away from the shop door from whence my beloved had disappeared through. Kamal looked down at me, his brows knitted together in concern. "Is everything okay?" he asked, then paused, as if he wasn't sure he ought to have asked me that question. His lips parted, tongue darting out between his teeth. "Sorry. It's just... you seem really deep in thought and I was wondering... I mean... if there's anything on your mind that I could help with. I know..." he chuckled, "I know I'm not your brother but...I'd be happy to listen if you need someone to."

Should I tell him what's on my mind? Should I really allow him access to this most sacred part of me, my most inner thoughts? He's right that he's not my brother, and who else would I really have admitted my melancholy to? Who else would I have shared my pain with but my darling Assef?

And yet even as I thought this, it hit me that perhaps Kamal would understand what I was thinking at this moment. He had, after all, been right there, front and center, when everything went down. He had seen my panic attack, seen my mother hit me, seen my brother's rage twisted beyond measure. It was his actions that had saved the Ahmed siblings from a fate worse than death itself. In that, then perhaps he deserved to know what I was thinking, just as much as my other half would have done had he been here in this moment.

"Well..." I began, wringing my hands together, "I've been thinking. Uh... about... about the last time that you were 'round our house. At... at the garden party." I wasn't able to go on after that, the memories becoming too much for me to bear. But Kamal didn't press me to continue, instead simply looking at me with so much compassion in his eyes that it made tears blur and sting in mine. So much like my brother, so understanding. I could see why Assef cared for him. "I... Sorry," I muttered, dabbing at the corners of my eyes with my sleeve. "It's just... being here, the three of us again, it's bringing all those memories back." Though heaven knows I've tried to push them away. "And I... I just... I guess... I never did get to thank you, Kamal. For what you did. For stepping up to the plate and helping my brother when he needed it the most."

Kamal sidled closer to me, his arm lifted in a position as if he wanted to wrap it around my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "May I-?" he asked, hesitant. I nodded; again, he may not have been my soulmate, but it was obvious that he truly did care. Gently, he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me in for a side-hug. "You don't need to thank me for that," he told me. "I knew I'd have to do something... when Assef's rage gets the better of him, it can be hard for him to snap out of the frenzy that he finds himself in." Oh, he didn't need to tell me twice, now did he? "I... I knew that if I didn't step in, things were going to end very, very badly for everyone involved."

Did he mean for Assef and Tanya or for Assef and I, I wondered? Had he felt any sympathy for the bitch as Assef had pummelled her into the kitchen floor, beating her to a bloodied pulp? Or had he charged into the line of fire to defend me as well as my brother?

I looked up at him, lips parting as I considered my next words. But before I could speak, Kamal got there first. "I... You know, Saria, I've seen your brother angry before. I... I know what he's capable of. You don't spend your childhood being best friends with Assef Ahmed and not get a firsthand view of some, well, some pretty fucked up shit." I grinned; even more grateful to Kamal that he wasn't sugarcoating his words whilst speaking to a child. "But... when you were hurt, it was- it was like... I felt like I was seeing this beast take your brother over. I'd never seen him so enraged. So hellbent on destroying the person that had caused you harm. It was-"

"My brother is fierce when it comes to defending me." I couldn't help the giddy flutter that coursed through my body as I said this. "Always has been, ever since we were little. I know I mean-"

"Everything."

Kamal looked down at me, lips twitching into a soft smile. "He'd do anything for you, Saria. You've got to know that, surely."

Oh, I'd known for years that Assef loved me more than anything and anyone in the world. My earliest happy memories were focused solely on him and him alone. He showed me love and devotion when our parents gave only pain and derision. His love was the one thing in the world that I could hold firm to. And yet... to hear someone else tell me that they too had seen my brother's love for me... especially someone who also knew Assef well - though never as deeply as I did - it made my heart sing.

But just as these blissful thoughts filled my mind, they were quickly replaced with the grating voice of Conscience, deriding me for being the reason for the fight in the goddamn first place. I wrung my hands together, trying to stave off the tears that were welling in my eyes. "I wish I hadn't reacted so badly to that lizard." There it was, the words that had been eating me alive since the incident, spoken into reality. "If I had just stayed calm, then maybe..."

Kamal hugged me tighter, placing a finger on my chin and tenderly lifted my head so that I was looking at him in the eye. His eyes held so much compassion in them, I didn't know how to react. When was the last time that someone other than my darling had looked at me that way? "It wasn't your fault, Saria." His tone was firm, his eyes stern yet kind. "You need to know that. You didn't choose to be so frightened, did you?" I shook my head, and he continued. "Anyone who saw you that day would've been able to see how terrified you were. Wali... he should have seen it too. Should've quit while he was ahead. He might've thought he was just teasing but he should have stopped the minute he saw you weren't having fun."

How wise Kamal's words were. Perhaps spending all that time with Assef was rubbing off on him in the best possible ways. "Assef was furious with Wali, too," he told me. "Absolutely furious." Then he laughed - that same high-pitched, choking sound that he had made in the alleyway with Hassan. A laugh that said he didn't find the situation funny, per se, but that he was unsure of how to react or if he ought to have said what he did. Kamal removed his arm from around my shoulder, moving away slightly, massaging the back of his neck. And I waited for him to say something else, to tell me more about what happened between himself, Assef and Wali, but he didn't.

This deafening silence, along with the uncomfortable laugh, really got me thinking. I'd tried to push all thoughts of Wali out of my mind - he'd never meant much to me even before the lizard incident, and now the only emotions I felt towards him were pure, unbridled rage and hatred. I wouldn't spit on the bastard if he were caught on fire. And yet... I knew my feelings were nothing compared to my brother's. Wali had been his friend since before I was born; they grew up together. Assef had been there for him when he'd needed him most, and Wali had betrayed that loyalty and trust in the worst possible way.

Such betrayal would have been dealt with, this I knew. The Ahmed siblings did not suffer fools lightly, and we defended each other with a tenacity that even the fiercest warriors could not have matched. But Assef had never told me what happened to Wali, never let me be part of this retribution. All he'd ever told me when I asked was that the situation had been 'dealt with' and that Wali 'had learned not to bother or disrespect me again'. His words took me the conclusion that while he might not have killed Wali, he had punished him in some way or another, and harshly so, if the fact that Wali never dared to show his face around Assef again was anything to go by.

Despite my better judgement, I found myself wanting to know more. I craved the sordid details of my brother's actions, and if he would not be the one to tell me, then who better to get this information from than the young man sat beside me? "Kamal jan?" I asked, making sure to appear as innocent as possible and to use the sweetest tone as well as that particular honorfic in order to better sway him to my whims. Kamal turned to look at me, and I stared back with pleading blue eyes. "What happened to Wali? Assef hasn't told me and I-"

"It was dealt with." Kamal looked away from me, tilting his head upwards, staring at the cloudless sky.

"My brother said the same thing, you know." I tried to smile, though it was hard to keep the irritation out of my voice. "That's not really much of an answer, is it?"

Kamal smiled, though it never quite reached his eyes. "You don't need to worry about Wali," he told me, as if that was the damn reason for me asking in the first place. "Assef's made sure that he won't be coming near any of us again. Near you, especially, Saria." He patted me on the hand. "Your brother won't ever let anyone hurt you, you know that, right?"

Then he moved away from me again, placing his palms flat on the wall, drumming his fingers tunelessly against the brick. He said the same thing that Assef did, I thought, lips pursed into a thin line. Did my brother coach him on what to say if I ever happened to ask about Wali? Is this some big secret that only I am not to be privvy to? Rather unfair, is it not?

But before I could say anything else, before I could get the words out to tell Kamal that I wasn't about to take no for an answer, the door to the shop opened, the bell ringing from overhead, and my soulmate emerged, striding towards us, holding two gift bags. Instantly, I leapt from the wall, Kamal doing the same. "Assef!" I exclaimed, hurrying to his side, taking his hand and leaning my cheek against it.

Assef smiled. "Behaved while I was gone?" he asked.

"She's been perfect," Kamal replied.

"I wasn't talking about her." Assef grinned, winked at us both, then held up the two bags. "Anyway, I've bought gifts for you both." He handed one of the bags to me, which I took, my eyes misting over. "For you, mein Herz." Then he extended the other bag to Kamal, who had to reach to take it from him. "Well, go on, open them."

My fingers trembled as I began to undo the loop of ribbon tying the bag together. Eventually, it fell away, and I removed a small box from inside. Opening it up, I gasped, the tears that had been pooling in my eyes now spilling full force down my cheeks. Inside was an absolutely gorgeous locket, beautifully engraved with the words 'زما ریښتینی مینه' which translated out to 'my dearest love' in Pashto. It hung upon a silver chain which glinted when I held it aloft in the sunlight.

I turned to my darling, who was beaming down at me, patiently waiting for my response to this most generous gift that he had seen fit to bestow upon me. "Assef," I gasped his name in a sob of delight. "Oh, Assef, thank you! Thank you so much, brother, it's... it's... I can't believe you bought this for me, thank you!" And with that, I surged forward, the locket gripped tightly in my hand, wrapped my arms around Assef's waist and hugged him close, weeping with joy and gratitude and all other emotions that were now flooding through me.

Assef held me close, running his fingers gently through my hair. "You're welcome, Liebchen," he whispered. "I'm glad you like it."

"Like it?" I gushed, pulling back to look up at him. "Assef, I love it. I've never seen anything so beautiful..."

"I have." Assef cupped the side of my face, brushing his thumb along my cheek. Then he extended his hand for me to put the locket into it. "Turn around, Saria, let me put it on for you."

Turning my back to him, I brushed my hair over my shoulder, and Assef leaned down to place the locket over my neck. I reached up to touch it, grasping it between my fingertips as my soulmate clasped it shut. "There," Assef said, as I spun back around to smile up at him again. "Now it's truly beautiful."

Oh, he was the most darling, most loving soul in all the universe, was he not? My heart fluttered at his words, and I swooned, clasping the locket against my heart - right where such a gift belonged, thinking of how much my other half meant to me, and indeed, how much I meant to him. Was there ever a love since the beginning of time that could compare to ours? Even the greatest poets could not have crafted the words to accurately describe our feelings for one another?

As I was admiring the locket, fingers tracing over the words carved upon it, I vaguely heard Kamal's reaction to the gift that Assef had given him. "This is great, Assef jan, thank you."

"Figured you'd get a kick out of it." I could hear the mirth in Assef's voice, and it made me wonder just what it was he had given to Kamal. Clearly something that must have had some level of signifcance to him. Something that held a memory for him, and for his friendship with my darling, right? But just as I turned to look at him, he dropped the gift back into the bag, closing it up before I got the chance to even see what it was.

I sighed in disappointment, standing on tiptoe in the hopes that I might be able to look over and see what was in the bag. But Kamal had retied it, and I was left with nothing to satiate my curiosity. "Now," Assef beckoned, making his way to the wall that Kamal and I had been sat upon. "Let's just sit awhile, soak in the little time we have left in here before we need to start heading home."

Which is exactly what we did. I lay with my head resting in Assef's lap, his fingers carding softly through my hair as I once more admired the locket that he had given me. Kamal sat on my other side, a little bit away from us so as to avoid my feet accidentally kicking him. The present Assef had bought for him rested on his lap, and every so often, he would look at it and this small grin formed on his face. He looked over at Assef, who grinned back at him, before lifting my hand and brushing his lips over the back of it.

And as the three of us sat there, basking in the afternoon sun, as I lay there in my brother's arms, holding the locket between my fingertips and pressing my lips over it, I let the worries of the past fade, if only for this moment. The question of what had been done to Wali still lingered in my mind, and I knew that it might remain there for a while yet to come. But here, surrounded by two people who cared for me deeply, I found that maybe the answer didn't matter all that much.

For this moment of rare bliss, everything was good and right in my world. The rest, I told myself, was entirely inconsequential.


In the next chapter, Saria attempts to invite Adia over to play at her house. But when her friend refuses to come and play, it's up to Assef to soothe his sister's disappointment and channel her rising temper into a more... destructive outlook.

Thank you all so very much for reading. I apologise for the delay in getting this chapter out, I've recently started a new job and have been getting used to that. From now on, I aim to return to more regular updates - at least one chapter per month, if not more if I can manage it.

Reviews are always welcome! Thank you again!