"Sorry, sir," a man in a lab coat said as he entered the room holding some papers. "I couldn't tail them. One of them is sharp—she realized someone was following them."
He was speaking to his senior, Zayd, the father of twins. It seemed life had been hard for him, trying to keep an eye on both of them. Both were prodigies.
Zayd dismissed him, saying, "It's fine. You may leave."
Back in the room, Hayaat was worried. She was always vigilant, but now things were more challenging. Being independent and relied upon made her keep her emotions to herself. Her coping mechanism was to dive deeper into her studies—it was her way of dismissing troubling thoughts.
Fazil had worries of his own. His cramps had no intention of reducing. His manly ego denied the idea of asking for help. To him, asking for help meant admitting that he couldn't even handle periods.
But regardless, he decided to ask Hayaat rather than his sister. At least she wouldn't tease him. He knocked on Hayaat's door, asking for permission to enter.
The knock startled her. By now, she had somewhat decided to explain things to him.
The memories of the previous body owners were gradually surfacing for each of them. It was confusing because their own life experiences were starting to feel like dreams or illusions.
Noor had complained about it before too. Calming her down was tiring, but her fears seemed to grow with each passing day.
Hayaat gave him permission to enter.
"What happened now? If it's about food, go buy it yourself."
"No, no. It's the pain. I admit cramps are too much to handle. Even as a medical intern I knew about periods, but experiencing it made me realize childbirth must be far worse."
"Okay, okay, big baby," Hayaat said in an assuring tone. "There will be a hot bag for periods. It will make you feel somewhat better. Also drink some methi seed water—it provides relief."
"Thanks, Hayaat. I see something is troubling you. Mind sharing what's occupying your thoughts?"
"I will. But first fill the hot bag. I found it in one of the cupboards—unless you're too lazy to boil methi seeds."
"Okay, okay. We are the same age, but it feels like you are older than me, Hayaat."
"Go on now."
Fazil stepped out of the room, filled the bag with hot water, and returned to Hayaat's room with it.
"Alright. I shall confide in you. But where is your sister?"
"Oh, her? She is actually sleeping."
"I thought so. She knows someone was following us."
"Someone was following you? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"What would you have done anyway?"
"Nothing for now, but at least I would have been somewhat prepared. Do you think they want to harm us?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not."
"Alright… it's fine."
"It makes sense now why she had trouble sleeping and why she's sleeping late."
"Yeah."
"What is our plan moving forward? You guys have been scouting the area."
"It seemed safe, but I'm not so sure anymore after what happened yesterday."
"Makes sense."
"Let's head out—the two of us. I'll inform Noor and come, okay?"
"If we see them, let's ask what they want. Maybe they could turn out to be a friend rather than a foe."
"Hm… that seems logical. But what if they are dangerous? What if they hurt us?"
"At least we do it for Noor. We have no idea about this world—how we came here, whether it was an accident or intentional. Speaking to them would give us more information than wondering on our own."
"True… but what if they attack?"
"If they wanted to, they would have already."
"I think they are gathering information, which means they know we are not them."
"Yeah. Also, from what I've seen over the past three weeks, they definitely know something—if not everything."
They left the room after informing Noor, who was half asleep.
Noor, in a hazy tone, muttered, "Bring me loaded fries. I wanted to have some if you guys are going out."
They agreed in unison.
After wandering for half an hour, someone indeed interrupted them. But this time, it wasn't from behind.
He stood right in front of them.
"Hello, children. My name is Zayd. I was the one who asked people to tail you. Shall we talk in private?"