[B]

"This is beautiful, Subhanallah!" She beamed and clapped both her hands in excitement before she ran towards a white rose and began sniffling its scent.

It was 9:45am, and Maheer just had his bath, he was inside his closet when he heard hands being clapped, feets tapped excitedly and he heard a melodic chuckle. It was real, and the person seemed so happy. He slowly lifted the curtain and had the better view of who was there, he didn't know the garden existed, but that wasn't what got his eyes hooked. It was her.

She had her legs dipped into the pool, her hijab neatly folded beside her. Even though she had her hair wrapped into her black veil, a bunch of the strands were on her shoulder, and she was splashing the water on her face with her legs. She looked extremely happy, and when she turned towards his direction, the sun reflected on her eyes and it pierced him directly. He didn't know when he abruptly released the curtain. She was a damsel.

He took his time before he got ready but those eyes and that hair were still embedded in his eyes, what was so special about her? He could see the worry lines on her forehead, but right now she looked like someone that had no worries in the world. He hissed and scratched his left eye brow.

Maheer sluggishly walked out of his room and met the house cleaned, he could give her a thumbs up when it comes to tidying up a house but ego; she wasn't up to that standard for him to appreciate something he paid her to do for him. He noticed the door she left slightly ajar and he walked inside, the first time he saw the room himself. He was on his way out when he saw a bunch of drawing pads with lots of crayons and wondered what got into Mamitah's to order those expensive crayons and drawing pads for him. He had nothing to do with them.

Then he thought, it might be Badra. She was the drawing freak among them, and she was the one behind all the paintings in his house. She wanted a house full of paintings. They calmed her down, she said. But he had nothing to do with these, he took them in his hands and walked directly towards the garden. He didn't know why he was going there himself, but what other chance did he have unless that? She didn't have a phone to start with.

He dropped the pads and crayons palette on the ottoman and sat on the resting chair beside it. She didn't noticed he was there, because she was long into her thoughts, lost. "You!" He called out, with a thunder and her whole body shook. She was trying so hard between putting back her hijab and getting her legs out of the pool when she throw herself completely into it. Floating.

Swimming had always being his hobby, but he didn't think he could bring her out of this water himself. Not when he was decked up and had a book in his hand. What made her come here in the first place? Who gave her the right to dip her dirty legs into the water he was later going to swim in? That too she looked so comfortable, eased off and happy? She would pay for it herself.

He turned his eyes from how she was gasping for breath and he could see her tears amalgamating with the water. She was starting to lose her strength, but he didn't care. She was just a poor lady that deserved nothing but a painful death. He had the money, and there nothing money cannot buy in the world. His innocence included. Even though he was sure even if she died they don't have a penny to file for a case in the court. He didn't killed her to start with.

Fadwa had lost all her strength, and she began to give up to the harsh waves of the water. She had never swam in her life, she couldn't save herself. She thought he would help her out, he was the one that freaked her out. But as it was said, rich people never cared for someone less. She was looking at him painfully and vulnerably, but he seemed unscathed with the condition she was in and the one she might fall into, which was worse.

"Help me..." she begged breathlessly, using the little energy left in her to move around the water but it was of no use. It was as if she tried emptying an ocean using a bucket.

He didn't bulged, not even looked her way. She was slowly giving up, the water had already languished her lungs and she was no more breathing. "Help me please..." She cried, but even her tears were nothing compared to the water in this vast pool.

It's there, she began seeing darkness blanketing her eyes, with the pictures of Ammi, Majida and Sabeehah, she gave in with the name; "Maheer..." coming out of her lips as faintly as her breath seized. But she was sure she felt her right hand being held firmly before she gave in to unconsciousness.

He heard when she called his name as faintly as the lips of the night would whisper, with no sound nor timbre. It wasn't supposed to be audible but he heard it nonetheless. The way she called his name sounded as though the sound of the star he had fallen in love with, the one he looked at every night before he slept. He didn't even know when he fell into the pool and he was lucky to get a hold of her hand before her body slackened.

He brought her out of the pool and lay her down beside it, but she wasn't breathing, she looked as if someone that had no heart beating within her chest. He looked at her hair, it was wet, sticking on her face and shoulder. But she was cold, heart unbeaten, and her soul seemed lifeless.