The air inside the hospital smelled of antiseptic and anxiety. Omar paced back and forth outside the emergency room, his mind replaying the horrifying image of Mahenoor’s bloodied forehead and bruised arms. The moment he had reached the farmhouse and found her unconscious on the ground, a strange sort of numbness had taken over him—one that was slowly morphing into a storm of rage.
The emergency team had wasted no time in taking Mahenoor inside. A nurse quickly hooked her to a heart monitor, and the doctor started examining her wounds. Omar stood outside the room, fists clenched, watching every move they made through the glass partition. The sight of blood trickling down her temple was etched into his mind. He couldn’t believe it—how could Zaid have done this?
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