HANA "Placenta Previa" The doctor repeated her words. "Miss. Shridhar has experienced hypertension, and she has high blood pressure during pregnancy." My lips trembled when I spoke, "Since when?" The doctor gave me a gentle look. I hate how she is calm and composed and looks at me sympathetically while I am losing my cool with every passing second. I might destroy her entire office soon. "We have diagnosed this in her twentieth week. We have explained to her that she has to choose whom to save, herself or her baby." She explained. I nod my head, thinking back to her pregnancy days. There was a time once she bled. "So in other words, she knew that..that...she would be in a coma or most probably die if she gives birth?" I am still staring at the calendar on the wall behind the doctor's seat. For some reason, I couldn't look at her face. I might lunge at her and kill her. But that was just my shock speaking. The doctor did what she could. I know it.
HANA I haven't heard from Enzo again. It's like he has disappeared from this planet. The more I think about it, the more suspicious I have become. Seb yawned, raising his hands in the air and looked around. His eyes found mine, and he stared at me for a while. I leaned into the cradle and smiled at him. "Hi, Junior," I whispered, gently touching his nose with my finger. He looked at my fingers in wonder. He has been doing that a lot, staring at his little fists and mine. His umbilical cord fell off two days ago. He started to make little noises, and he started to recognise me. I would be lying if I hadn't felt proud of myself as though I had a lifetime achievement. "It's just you and me, now." Seb cooed in return. "I will take it as a yes then." I started to record everything he did so that Shalini wouldn't miss a thing when she woke up. My heart aches for her. No matter what happens, she can't turn the time back and be with Junior. I wanted her to know
HANA The maid who brought my Seb took us out of the room where we stayed till now. I jerked my hand away from her. Seb hasn't woken up from his sleep yet and I don't know if it is a good thing or not. "Where are you taking me?" I asked her. She said something in Italian. We passed through a dark hallway with bold wallpaper and abstract art decorating the emerald walls. In what looked like a living room, an older man in a three-piece suit sat on an eight-seated leather couch, his legs crossed and one of his hands stretched on the top of the sofa. His eyes are sea-green, just like Bash's. Except for the few wrinkles on his face and the grey hair, everything about screamed one thing- Bash's father, the monster Rose wrote about. They are so similar from head to toe. I swallow a gulp in my throat. What is Bash doing with this man? Behind him stood a guy probably in his late thirties. He has a twisted smile on his face, and he gives me creeps. On the o
HANA "She would do good at Wildwood??" I stared at the men before me in pure horror. I know self-defence. But there's no way I can outdo them, not with Seb in my hands. He started to stir. It's high time he wakes up from his nap. He would start to cry and it would make things only worse. "She is not to be touched," Bash said in a controlled mechanical voice. Yet, hope bloomed inside my chest. He will help me. I still couldn't believe that he didn't feel anything for me. Of course, he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't have done what he had done in the first place. I don't know what should I be terrified of- at Bash or at men who casually assessing if I would fit in one of their brothels or not? "I will not let you put a woman in brother for spreading her legs on my bed." I heard Bash said to his father. I close my eyes, trying not to be affected by his words and already grieving them all at the same time. He left leaving me all alone with these men. H
HANA I finally held my Seb, not because he was crying, not because he was afraid. He is still asleep after Bash coaxed him into sleep. I hold him because I need something to hold on to. Bash made a few phone calls. Someone, wearing a black mask came into the room and cleaned the mess I had made. Even Greta was a part of it. She glared at me. But she carried out Bash's orders perfectly. His actions were robust. An hour passed, and the room became as good as before. It didn't look like a place where someone was killed. It is as clean as before. I didn't know how. Because there are only things three that played in my mind; me under him, Bash above him, slashing his throat, and Seb crying alone on the bed. "Hana, snap out of it." Bash's words brought me back to reality. I focused on his eyes, watching the concern for the first time in a year and a half. "You don't know anything. You didn't do anything. Nothing happened here, and you didn't even get out of the room. Print these words
HANA I watch as three angry faces stare at me. I focused on only the person in the wheelchair. I wanted to tell so many things, show so many videos, and need to vent out a lot. All I could say was, "I am sorry." "She is bedridden for another month. But she wouldn't listen." Mateo whispered in my ears. An old woman whom I saw in one of the pictures Shalini posted years ago, stood behind Shalini, her grip on her wheelchair tightened with every passing second. "They are her parents. They saw a photo of us it seems. They won't stop crying about how he looked so much like their lost son." Mateo explained. I nodded my head as Shalini looked at her mother and the woman immediately took Seb from my hands. The couple looked at him in awe as Shalini's eyes teared up at Seb. She caressed her cheek, lovingly. How I wanted to see them like this in the last three months now. "He looks so much like Sebastian." Her mother whispered. I tried hard not t
HANA "Delirdin mi? Git ve ölecek başka bir Kamyon bul?" (Have you gone mad? Go find another truck to die.) The truck driver yelled at me. He did pull over instead of running over me. But Ahmet was fast. "Daha hızlı olmalıydın." (You should have been faster). I countered. "You realise that it is your fault, right?" Ahmet pinned me with his stare. I hate how I have to lift my head to look at him. It's not the lifting I hate though. It is a fact that the person before me was not Bash but someone of the same height. The driver cursed under his breath and climbed back into his truck. The engine roared to life, and he left. "It is not a movie. The driver had stopped his Truck." I tried to defend. But Ahmet gave that look again, a look that I used to give to spoiled little brats at the parties my mom forced me to attend. "Care to explain why you pulled a stunt like that?" He asked me. "Care to explain why are you guardi
HANA It's funny how I thought I forgot how I used to feel when I was with him. But memories flooded into my mind again. The pillow he threw at me because I was using my phone instead of sleeping, the mug he used to drink coffee on my bed while staring out of the window, the warmth around my ankle when he held it to check the shoe size, the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he raised his hand to wipe the sweat on his face with his sleeves and every little thing came back to me, striking me like a hurricane and swept me to the world where we were together, walking hand in hand. I wasn't just happy then. I was free. I felt young. I felt someone who was in her twenties, and I felt valued. This world and life made sense with him by my side. I shouldn't be so co-dependent like that. But for someone who resented everything and everyone in the world, Bash made a difference. Now I realized why he acted the way did in our final days. Every touch