The Widow's Keeper

by Kishan Paul

  He stared at their connected hands curiously before letting out a giggle. The sound made her heart melt.

  “Come, Adi, let’s get some food.” Although she said the words sweetly, the tension in Alyah’s voice echoed through the room.

  He ignored his mother’s words about food and gave Ally a hug. She disregarded the way the guards and Alyah stiffened and wrapped her arms around the tiny body. Emotion heated her face, and she made a silent promise to protect the child, even if it meant revealing the secret his parents would kill to keep hidden.

  As soon as she released him, Alyah picked him up and retreated down the hall. “Let’s go see what they’ve made for dinner,” she said to her son as they disappeared. One of the men followed the mother and child out of the room.

  Ally stayed on her knees, the warmth of his touch still lingering on her skin. Two days. She had two days to figure things out. She looked over her shoulder at Eddie. He stood by the stairs, arms crossed. But she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

  Ally sat on the private balcony connected to her room. For the first time since she woke up in Karachi, she was alone. It appeared no one wanted her company. Not that she minded. Her shoulders ached from the weight she carried. She stared at the barely touched plate of food in front of her. Fresh bread and bowls of lentils and mutton filled the dish. Alyah had always been an excellent cook. Her mutton had been one of Ally’s favorite dishes, but eating was the furthest thing from her mind. There were so many other things she needed to figure out.

  A faint summer breeze ruffled the sleeve of her shirt. Swirls of oranges, blues, and reds streaked across the horizon. She had always considered the setting sun as a promise of a new day. A shiver ran up her spine. Except now those promises no longer filled her with hope—more a sense of dread.

  She rubbed her arms and stared at the courtyard below. A large stone water fountain of a white elephant sat in the center. Aadam squealed and ran toward it, his mother close behind. In her hand, she carried a plate of food, and while he looked for treasures on the ground, she filled his mouth with dinner. Alyah gazed up at the balcony where Ally sat. When their eyes locked, the scared mother looked away.

  She rose from her plastic seat and took her dishes into her small bedroom. Eddie placed her in the farthest room on the third floor and, from what she could tell, far away from the mother and son. To her right was her private bathroom. Diagonal from it, her bed. The servants had laid out fresh linens and a peach coverlet embroidered with tiny flowers. A built-in closet, with wood the color of rich caramel, occupied the length of the wall beside the bed. The cabinets were the same as the two doors and the stand beside the bed. Inside the closet, women’s clothes she’d never purchased were neatly arranged. She had already showered and taken the liberty of changing into one of the loose-fitting outfits.

  A knock on the door startled her, almost making her drop her plate. She put a hand on her chest and slid the dish onto the bedside table but kept the fork in her hand.

  “Sara Bhaabi, it’s your doting brother-in-law.” As saccharine as his words were, there was nothing sweet about him. His voice gritted against her ears. She tightened her hold on the utensil and opened the door.

  His grin dropped slightly when he looked her over. “It appears your clothes are a little big on you.”

  Ally adjusted the wide neck of the red tunic. “I must have lost weight during the flight.”

  He chuckled. “Would you like to have a tour of the home and the grounds?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Always.” He winked and glanced down the hall. “By the way, it appears we both have our own guards following us around. So you may want to hand over the fork before they catch sight of it.”

  She leaned over in the direction he peered, noticing two men a few feet away. They stood side by side against the wall, one much taller than the other. The shorter one was clean-shaven, revealing his younger features. He stared at his phone, but she knew he watched her every move. The thick hair on the other man’s head and beard was a mix of black and silver. He crossed his arms, tilted his head, and made no attempt to avert his gaze from hers. She stepped back into the safety of her quarters.

  Shariff took the utensil from her hand and wandered into the space. Ally hovered by the entrance, unsure of who was more dangerous—the men in the hall or the one lurking around her room.

  “Quaint,” he said as he surveyed the bathroom and the patio. He tossed the fork to the floor and waved at the still open door. “Let’s have some fun. Close the door.”

  The hair on her neck stood and goosebumps erupted across her skin. “I’m not sure Wassim would appreciate you being in a closed room alone with me.”

  The bed creaked when he sat on it and patted the spot beside him. “Which is exactly why you’re going to come in and shut the door.”

  Ally closed it as ordered but did not join him.

  He shrugged and bounced. “Wassim is a judgmental arse who will run and tell my father, another judgmental arse, everything. Why not give them something substantial to share?” The headboard slammed against the cement wall. “Excellent.”

  She leaned against the door, cringing as the thuds grew louder and faster. On the other side of the wall, two guards listened to the same sounds. “Are you almost done?”

  Shariff chuckled. “A couple more minutes. Wouldn’t want them to think I’m having a dishonorable discharge. Could you throw in a moan or a scream or something?”

  She ignored his request, opened the door, and left the room. Both men remained in the same spot she left them, but now they were on their phones, one texting while the other pointed his device’s lens at her. Shariff walked out of the room, pretending to adjust his clothes and fix his hair.

  Her face heated at the proud smirk he flashed the men and at the camera recording him. Ally headed down the hall. “This is not a game,” she hissed when he grabbed her wrist.

  Shariff pushed her back against the wall and pressed his body against hers. “You’re wrong.”

  Every muscle in her body froze except for her heart, which pounded hard against her chest.

  “This. Is. A. Game,” he whispered. “And no one is forcing you to join. So either play or leave.” He kissed her cheek. “Just be sure to consider the consequences of your actions before you walk.”

  She dug her nails into her palms but didn’t move.

  “Well? Are you leaving?”

  “No,” Ally choked out.

  “Excellent.” Shariff released her, fixed the collar of her shirt, which had fallen off her shoulder, winked at the guards and the phone, and walked to the stairs.

  The taller guard lowered his device and punched some keys while he wrinkled his nose and shook his head in disgust. She sucked in a breath and followed Shariff down.

  “Let’s start with the courtyard, seeing as how Alyah Bhaabi and my nephew are there,” he said from over his shoulder.

  On the bottom floor, Wassim sat with his men huddled around him, staring at the mobile device in his hand. A tense silence fell across the room as soon as she and Shariff appeared. Most averted their eyes from her except for Wassim. He stroked his beard and curled his lip, refusing to lose their staring match. Hate and disgust filled his gaze; all of it aimed at her. Shariff hummed a tune and patted the man’s shoulder as he walked past, but even then Wassim continued to track her.

  Ally looked away and followed Shariff outside. The early evening breeze cooled her heated skin as soon as she exited the house. She filled her lungs with the air and tried to calm her emotions. Too much was at stake to allow her anger or shame to get the better of her. Yes, the man in front of her was in control, and everything was going according to his plan. A plan she needed to figure out by Sunday.

  She paused mid-step and stared at the child Shariff approached. The heels of Aadam’s bare feet kicked against the base of the fountain as he threw pebbles into the water. His mother sat beside him. She whispered a story to him and popped food in h
is mouth every so often. The attractive smile on her face was not one Ally had ever seen before. Alyah looked up and when she caught sight of them, her smile faded and body stiffened.

  “Chacha!” the three-year-old screamed through his mouthful of rice.

  Shariff laughed and waved. “Come. Let’s show Sara Mommy around.”

  The knot in her belly tightened.

  Ignoring his mother’s commands to finish his meal, Aadam slid off the fountain, slipped on his sandals, and ran to his uncle.

  “No. It’s late. He needs to eat and get ready for bed,” Alyah snapped as she headed for her son.

  Shariff picked him up and wiped a smudge of food off his chin. “It’s barely five. Let him come along, Bhaabi. I promise to bring him back soon.”

  Aadam wrapped his arms around Shariff’s neck and hid his face in his shoulder. “Please, Ammi. I want to go with Chacha and Sara Mommy.”

  The bitter taste of acid burned Ally’s throat. She silently prayed for Alyah to sense danger in the man holding her son and take Aadam away. Far away.

  “It’s fine. Let the child go.” She looked over her shoulder at Wassim, who stood at the door. He waved at someone in the room with him. “Hassan.”

  Eddie appeared behind him.

  “Go with them.”

  He nodded and walked outside.

  Shariff stiffened. “No need. We are going to the well. I will keep him safe.”

  Wassim shook his head and waved for his guard to follow. “It’s not you we’re worried about. Hassan will go along.”

  Shariff turned to Ally, his scowl visible under the smile plastered on his face. “Apparently, it is not safe to walk the grounds with you alone,” he translated and waved toward the path down the forest. “Shall we?”

  “You shouldn’t be with her, Shariff. She is not what you think,” Alyah hissed as they walked past.

  Her words didn’t bother Ally. She had a feeling they may have helped more than hindered. Unlike the suits and short hair donned by Sayeed, he chose jeans and left his locks long. Shariff seemed like someone who wanted to break the rules set down by his father; he was the rebel of the Irfani family.

  They wandered down the walking path into the gardens. Trees of various shapes and sizes stretched out above them, their leaves reaching for the clouds. Along the trail, roses and hibiscus bushes clustered together in various spots, forming beautiful groupings of colors. After a while, Aadam climbed out of Shariff’s arms and ran ahead on the pebbled trail.

  Ally walked beside Shariff in silence, pursuing the child a few feet ahead of them. Aadam’s brown curls bounced as he moved. When he found a rock, an insect, a bird, anything he considered fascinating, he shrieked. His screams sent bursts of adrenaline through her already-anxious system, making her jump toward him. Each incident ended the same. He’d turn those enormous eyes up at her and show her his most recent find before moving along in search of another.

  He was beautiful, and his laughter so infectious, a couple of times she forgot the danger and allowed his excitement to fill her, until she remembered the man pretending to be the doting uncle beside her.

  Shariff side-eyed her. “What?”

  “How do you sleep at night?”

  His laugh echoed through the forest. “Curious about my sleeping arrangements?” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “If you’re not careful, I might start thinking you really do want to get in my pants.”

  She fought the urge to pull away. Partly because she needed to understand him better, and partly because Eddie followed close behind, tracking their every move. Shariff pressed his mouth to her ear. “The man behind us is listening and will report it all back to his boss, so watch what you say.”

  Ally nodded. When she tried to step away, he held on tighter. “And for the record, I sleep quite well. You’re welcome to join me and see for yourself.”

  She twisted out of his grasp and moved a few feet ahead. “So tell me the story about this house,” she said loud enough for Eddie to hear.

  Shariff caught up with her, his smile a bit tighter than a few seconds ago. “It was built over thirty years ago, after my parents married. Since my father spent half the year here doing business, he wanted to have a nice home when he came to town.”

  She glanced over at him. “Your father only lived here half the time?”

  “Yes.” He grabbed a flowered branch from a tree along their path and broke it off, handing it to her. “Smell this.”

  Tiny, white flowers bloomed along the thin limb. She didn’t have to get too close for the blossoms’ fragrant scent to fill her sinuses.

  “It’s a neem tree. My mother had several of them planted along the gardens.”

  She took the branch and pretended to admire the flowers. “Where were you the other half the time?”

  “Here. Running around these grounds. Playing Hide and Seek under this very neem tree.” He stopped beside the trunk and traced his hand over a heart carved on its trunk. “My father, on the other hand, was with his other family in Kabul.”

  Ally walked on, shadowing the child who ran several feet ahead. His resentment of his brother now made more sense. Shariff only had a father six months out of the year. “How does a boy running around Karachi end up with an English accent?”

  He caught up with her again. “After my mother passed, I was sent to boarding school. I’ve lived in England ever since.”

  She watched him from the corner of her eye. For the first time, his mask had lowered and a flash of pain passed across his face. “How did she die?”

  “You know those lovely stairs we descended back in the house?” He pointed over his shoulder. “I watched my big brother, your late husband, push her down them.”

  Ally paused mid-step and turned to face him, unsure of how to respond.

  “Chacha!” Aadam hollered. Shariff winked, grabbed the branch from her hand, and walked ahead to attend to the child.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the expressionless guard trailing. He directed her with his eyes to continue.

  She found uncle and nephew staring at a hole at the base of a tree. Shariff dug the branch into the entrance, explaining how it was the home of the chipmunk the child had seen. Once Aadam was satisfied with the information, he moved on.

  How much pain and anger brewed under the smile Shariff donned? She’d already seen glimpses of it, but clearly not the true intensity of his emotions. He watched a brother he barely knew kill his mother. Then he was sent off to boarding school, ripped away from probably the only home he knew.

  Shariff twined his fingers through Ally’s as they followed the child. “What did your father do about Sayeed?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing. According to him, she tripped. His precious son wasn’t capable of doing such a thing.”

  “So to shut you up, he sent you away to another country?”

  His smile tightened. “He visited a few times, but he had another family to consider.” Shariff waved his hand as if to swat her words away. “It made me stronger.”

  Now he wanted restitution. Punishment for the pain he’d suffered, but his memories of the home weren’t all painful. Ally stared across the pink and orange foliage of the hibiscus bushes beside them. “Coming home must make you feel closer to your mother.”

  “It does, actually. More than I realized.” Shariff looked her over. “You mentioned your parents were killed when you were young. What happened?”

  He gave her palm a squeeze. Ally focused on their connected hands. She needed him to align with her. “The bridge their train traveled on collapsed. Two weeks later, I left my home in India to live with my uncle in America.”

  He shook his head. “We seem to share the same story, just a different continent. They treated you well?”

  “No,” she lied. Although she had some challenges with her aunt in the beginning, they were her rocks, and somewhere out there, they worried about her. Her face heated at the way their last conversation had gone. Her family sp
ent the time telling her they loved her and were worried about her. She spent it pushing them away.

  Shariff’s reassuring hand gave her another squeeze. “The ugly skeletons in our closets are plentiful, aren’t they?”

  The exact reaction she hoped for. Ally nodded her response to him and walked ahead to catch up with Aadam.

  Once the happy child was within her reach, she slowed her pace. He ran to her and wrapped his tiny hand around hers as they strolled along the path together. The feel of his warmth, the sound of his laughter, fused him to her. How could Shariff or anyone else even consider hurting this child? It was a question she needed to investigate further. She released Aadam’s hand and waited for his uncle. When Shariff was beside her, she grabbed his arm, pretending to work on dislodging an invisible pebble from her shoe. “So, Sayeed took your family when you were six, and now you’re going to take his?”

  He leaned in close. “I never said such a thing. I’m only reclaiming what’s mine.”

  Ally considered her words before uttering them. “Why does reclaiming what’s yours have to mean killing others?”

  Shariff shot her an angry look. “Keep your voice low,” he hissed.

  Her stomach twisted. “He’s just a child,” she whispered.

  He waved her words away and pointed ahead. “See the crumbled mess over there?” Aadam tapped his hand against the curved bricked platform Shariff mentioned. “It’s a well. When I was a child, a servant’s son fell into it.”

  Her breath caught in her throat and her hands clenched. Too short to see over its wall, the toddler stood on his tiptoes and grabbed on to the ledge to pull himself higher. One of the bricks he gripped crumbled, falling to his feet.

  Shariff crossed his arms and watched, as if waiting to see what the child would do. “It took most of the day before someone finally found his body floating in there. Parsa, the poor mother, was such a mess for years.”

  Ally rushed forward. She reached the child before he made a second attempt to climb and lifted him into her arms. Aadam wrapped a hand around her neck and leaned forward over the edge, looking into the black waters below. She kept a firm grip around his body while he pointed into the darkness and rambled about the water and the plants growing inside it. Any doubt she had that Shariff would hurt the child vanished. The man was indeed related to Sayeed.