Day.3. Aunt.

They returned home late that evening, and just before leaving, Saad leaned in close to Aiza, his voice low and almost teasing.

“It was a nice memory.”

She looked up, caught off guard, but before she could respond, he was already walking away.

---

A year passed.

Aiza had now graduated from university. Between studying further and working as an assistant, her days were full—her nights even fuller.

That morning, however, she was anything but full of energy. She lay sprawled in bed, her books scattered across the blanket like fallen leaves.

“AIZA! For how long will you sleep? The sun is above your head! And what’s with these books all over your bed?” her mother’s voice came sharp from the doorway.

Aiza groaned, burying her face under the blanket. “Ma… let it be. I’ll clean it up later.”

“And when is ‘later’? Your aunt just moved here from this morning. She’s going to be living at the apartment in the corner of the street. Oh—and why don’t you go see her? She’d be thrilled.”

“She just arrived… at least let her rest. I’ll meet her later.” Aiza said from under the blanket.

“No way,” her mother insisted. “You’re getting up now and going over there. You know she adores you more than her own. And I've prepared something for them, take them as you go—”

There was no reply.

“Aiza? Aiza!” Her mother yanked at the blanket.

“Aaah, going!” Aiza finally sat up, her hair in disarray, and stomped toward the bathroom. Her mother chuckled, shaking her head.

---

The walk to Aunt Naaz’s new place took only ten minutes. The apartment complex was buzzing with activity when she arrived—two men were unloading a van while a woman in a low ponytail directed them.

“Bonjour, je vous aide, puis?” Aiza called out with a playful smile.

The woman turned, her eyes widening.

“Hii, Aunt Naaz,” Aiza greeted warmly, a scarf loosely draped over her shirt and flared trousers. She balanced the food container in one hand.

“Aiza? Is that really you?” Aunt Naaz exclaimed, striding forward to clasp her hands. “Oh my goodness. Look at you! All grown up into such a lovely young lady. I’m so happy to see you after so long.” She pulled Aiza into a tight hug.

“How are you, Aunt?”

“Better now that I’ve seen you.”

“Ma’am!” the movers called.

Aiza grinned. “Let me help. You’re here for good now—we’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

They carried boxes inside, where two kids—a shy younger girl and a college-aged boy—greeted her politely before diving back into unpacking.

By the time afternoon rolled around, they’d made some progress, but there was still work left. Aiza suggested a lunch break, serving the dishes her mother had made. The kids ate with visible relief, their hunger obvious in the way they took generous bites. After cleaning up, they returned to finish setting up the apartment.

When evening came and the last box was pushed aside, Aiza stood by the door. “Ma has planned a small dinner for your welcome—make sure you all come.”

“Thanks, dear,” Aunt Naaz said warmly. “We finished much faster with you here.”

Aiza smiled, waved, and left for home.

---

9 p.m.

Naaz arrived at her younger sister Saba’s house, greeted by the smell of home-cooked food and the sound of laughter. The sisters embraced—two complete contrasts: Naaz, a tomboyish, soft-spoken teacher, and Saba, a sharply dressed clothes designer with an equally sharp tongue.

“It’s been years,” Naaz said, smiling as they sat down.

“It has,” Saba agreed.

Naaz’s expression softened. “You both had it tough after Aiza’s father passed.”

Saba nodded. “In the beginning, yes… but with your support, we managed.”

Naaz’s brow furrowed, "Yes, Aiza too did a lot during those times. That child worked and studied, never complained."

Saba agreeing with a nod asked, “Well, how are Omu and Naira?”

“Omu’s in university now. Naira’s in eighth grade—she’ll be attending the school nearby,” Naaz said proudly. “And Omu’s taking engineering. His university is near the hospital where Aiza works.”

“That’s good,” Saba said.

Naaz looked around. “Where is Aiza, anyway?”

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