PART FOUR
“Ruin me if you wish to. I am all yours, Valeria.”
29
Khalid
“You look pathetic,” the old woman with grey hair mocked me when she entered my room. She scrunched her face at the scent of oil paints and fumes, eyeing the red mess on the canvas. “Did you do that, boy?”
“You know what my name is, jadati,” I said, staring at the painting.
I wanted to tear it apart. Burn it.
“Zain seemed concerned about you. Ever since Salman died, you haven’t stepped out of this room,” she said taking a good luck at the painting.
I shrugged. “So what? Why are you here anyway? You have never been around.”
If you were, you could see what your son did. You could have saved who was I kidding by overthinking about it. He was dead. I had killed him.
“I wanted to make sure how you were coping,
