All Chapters of Divinity's Decent : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Chapter 31"The heart wants what it wants. There's no logic to these things. You meet someone and you fall in love and that's that." — Woody Allen“I’ll never forget the first day I saw you,” he said later on, as we sat leaning on a boulder, his arm draped around my neck, and my head on his chest. “It was in the fruit market, and you were there with the older housekeeper. I didn’t think you were a real human being. In fact, I thought you were a goddess or something. You didn’t look like you were from this world.”I smiled. “I’m sure you were still in your diapers then, so you hadn’t seen much of the world yourself.”He chuckled. “You’re not that much older than I am, Zeynep. Three years is nothing in today’s world.”“It’s four actually, and that’s plenty where I come from,” I answered, the smile on my lips fading. “You’re too young for me, Jason. This can’t lead anywhere.”He titled up my chin. “Says who? Make no mistake about it, zeyne

"The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to." — Elisabeth Kübler-RossI looked from madam maria to the others standing around. It was then that I noticed their averted gazes, none of them able to make eye contact with me. They knew. They all knew.I shrugged out of madam maria’s grip and turned around to walk back to the house. All the chatter had ceased, and the only sound was from the birds chirping obliviously in the trees. It was only then that I realised that I was barefoot, my slides having come off my feet in my mad dash to the gate.The hot ground burned me in my walk of shame, and once again in my life, I wished for death. I cursed God for delighting in taking away those I loved, those I

Chapter 35"When tyranny becomes law, rebellion becomes duty." Thomas JeffersonI knew I had to leave…for good.Later that night, when I was sure the minister would have returned, I decided it was time to inform him of my decision to return to India. I was also determined to let him know about all Ibrahim's atrocities. Yes, he might have been aware of some of them, but he needed to know his son was also a cold-blooded murderer.Even though my body was throbbing with pain, I slipped into my sandals and slowly made my way up the flight of stairs that separated his room from mine. Getting to the door, I tapped as hard as my wounded hand could manage.“Come in!” he bellowed.When I walked in, I was relieved to find that he had no female company that night. He gave me a cursory look, his only acknowledgment of my battered appearance a slight arch of an eyebrow. Other than that, he said nothing.“I would like to return to India,” I said, going straight to the point. “I

Chapter 37"There is no such thing as coincidence, only the illusion of coincidence." — Alan MooreWe were far more alike than I wanted to accept. However, I knew that, given the chance to humiliate me, he would jump at it, so this made me savour and enjoy his own humiliation. He left the very next day.As for my sleepwalking, not only did it resume after Jason died, it got worse…so much worse. So dead was I to the world that I was now wandering further and further from where I would normally go. Even though the domestic staff were very protective of me and always were sure to see me back to my bedroom without anyone else being privy to what had happened when any of them found me, it soon got to the extent that even they couldn’t hide my worsening condition. It was when the security men guarding the ranch at night mistook me for a thief and shot at me, the bullet missing me by mere inches, that the minister decided enough was enough. He took me to se

"Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time." — Maya AngelouChapter 39I wouldn’t even have known what to do with a typewriter if it was placed in front of me, talk less of the sleek and modern laptop device. Sensing my apprehension, Jacobi popped it open, showed me how to launch Microsoft Excel, and how to input the required data. Bismillah, I whispered under my breath before placing my fingers on the keyboard. As I tried it for myself, I realized he hadn’t been lying at all. The keyboard was very similar to the typewriters I’d been taught how to use in school, and within the hour, I was comfortably transferring the information from the files to the machine.As I worked, he proceeded to continue organizing the place, which included unpacking books from a box, deliberating additional modifications with some workmen who came at different intervals, and several discussions on his phone. He was clearly determined to get the