"I might have said, "Where is it?" for it did not seem in the room -
nor in the house -
nor in the garden;
it did not come out of the air -
nor from under the earth -
nor from overhead. I had heard it -
where, or whence, for ever impossible to know!
And it was the voice of a human being -
a known, loved, well-remembered voice -
that of Edward Fairfax Rochester; and it spoke in pain and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently.

"I am coming!" I cried. "Wait for me! Oh, I will come!"
I flew to the door and looked into the passage:
it was dark. I ran out into the garden: it was void.

"Where are you?" I exclaimed.

The hills beyond Marsh Glen sent the answer faintly back -
"Where are you?" I listened.
The wind sighed low in the firs:
all was moorland loneliness and midnight hush."

Jane Eyre

________________________________

1 year on

The long white curtains blew like a ghost. Thunder clapped flashing brilliant light into the dark as heavy rainfall cascaded against the pane. In the large empty room, lying on the flimsy mattress, Jahaan-Aara's sleep was disturbed. Her nightmares returned.

Paralysed in her sleep, like a noose tightened around her neck, a heavy weight sat on her chest. Eyes wide shut, she opened her mouth to scream but there was no sound. Red hot flames licked around her threatening to scorch her.

In the crux of the nightmare, breaths stifled, limbs paralysed her heart pounded wildly against her ribcage. Lightning struck once again with the clap of thunder.

"Roh-" Jahaan-Aara mumbled. "Saab." She cried out to him whilst the fire ravaged him. She could see his hands waving in the waves of fire, but she was trapped. Why couldn't she save him?

Her mumblings soon turned into cries. Soft wails in her sleep woke Umera who slept beside her. Umera sat up, her long black hair falling around her shoulders, her night shirt flapped open revealing her collar bones. Umera shook Jahaan-Aara in a bid to release her from her sleep, but Jahaan-Aara cried with her eyes tight. In the dark room, the flash of thunder was the only light flashing on Jahaan-Aara's small frame.

"Jahaan-Aara!" Umera pressed her shoulder. "Wake up."

Jahaan-Aara continued to cry like a wounded animal. Umera shook her violently and snapped her out of her nightmare. Jahaan-Aara gasped for air like she was under water for an eternity. She sat up and her eyes wide shot open.

"I can't breathe." Jahaan-Aara gasped. Her breaths ragged. Her forehead moist with sweat.

Quickly, Umera scrambled near and held her.

"I can't breathe!" Jahaan-Aara cried out. "I can't breathe."

"Sssh, it's okay I've got you." Umera held her moist face forcing her to look at her.

"I couldn't save him. He's gone! He's gone." Jahaan-Aara cried out. The orange fiery flames plumed before her eyes. She pointed to the window where the flames licked the curtains and consumed the room. There was a piercing laugh. A cry. Rohail Saab's hand pressed against the window. She didn't see him, but her soul sensed him. He called out to her.

'Noorie, Noorie."

He's gone.

"Something's happened to him. I can feel it." Fear crippled Jahaan-Aara. She pressed her fist against her throbbing heart. She had to see him. She had to find out if he was okay. Her dreams were a messenger. She had to listen to them. Her heart let out a cry, she couldn't deny it.

Umera grew accustomed to Jahaan-Aara's nightmares over the past year, but tonight it was different. Jahaan-Aara was terrified.
"He needs me Umera. I know he does."

A light knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

"Everything okay?" Qamar called out and entered the room. Over the past year he'd changed. His hair short and tidy, his body wider as he'd put on a few pounds which rounded his paunch.

"It's okay Qamar Bhai." Umera brushed the nightmare under the carpet. She straightened the blanket and buttoned her top of her shirt. "It's just another bad dream."

Qamar kneeled before his sister. She was shaking. Her damp hair pressed against her forehead. The dreams became regular.
"Maybe we need to take you to some baba (spiritual healer). Maybe something is wrong." He kneeled closer to her and held her hand. Umera was in awe of sister-brother relationship. Jahaan-Aara had found a tender and caring brother in Qamar. He was a true gent.

"No, Bhai-Jaan. I'm fine. Please go sleep." Jahaan-Aara swallowed into her dry throat.

"Are you scared of the thunder?" Qamar asked with concern in his tone. He stood up and closed the windows and drew the curtains. "Soon it will be time for prayer. I will pray you, choti. I don't like seeing you unsettled."

Later that morning, Jahaan-Aara washed and prayed her dawn prayers. She couldn't erase the haunting images and voices from her head.

"Ya Allah. I'm scared." She looked into her empty palms searching for answer. "Ever since I left the haveli, I've prayed for my Master. He's always been a part of me. Maybe, I've left a part of me at the haveli. Please Allah, protect my master. Please." She curled over and rocked back and forth.

When the early splash of light spread into the empty apartment, Umera scanned the room in confusion.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with all this space." The apartment was large for her needs. 2 Bedrooms, a large kitchen and a balcony.

It was just under a year ago Umera emailed Jahaan-Aara about her predicament. Umera fell in love with a mobile phone salesman. Head over heels, she followed him to Hyderabad in the hope of marriage. There, he took advantage of her stealing the little money she had and dumped her in a foreign city with no job or home. Umera had no one to call for help but Jahaan-Aara. When Jahaan-Aara arrived promptly with her brother in tow, she found a teary eyed Umera waiting for her in a women's hostel.

"I have no one in this world." Umera sobbed into her best friend's shawl. "What will I do?"

A year later, Umera was the queen of her own home due to Jahaan-Aara's generosity.

"How will I ever thank you?" Umera wrapped her arms around Jahaan-Aara's shoulders embracing her back. "This is too much." Umera was intimated by the sheer size of the apartment.

"We are orphans Umera, we have to stand by one another." Jahaan-Aara held her hand. "Don't ever think I have done you a favour, never. Allah has blessed me and with that blessing I am obliged to share it with those who are in need. This money, this wealth is not mine. It is an amanah from Allah which is sent to test me. My sister means more to me than paper, bricks and mortar."

Umera held her tight unable to hold back her tears. She had no words for Jahaan-Aara. Though they were not sisters by blood, they were soul sisters. Jahaan-Aara turned around and peered into Umera's narrow eyes lowered with gratitude. Umera searched for love, a home and a family and the world was evil. How dare someone take advantage of her sister? Jahaan-Aara believed it was her responsibility to protect Umera.

At breakfast, they laid a mat on the dusty floor and shared piping hot fresh puri and halwa with warm cinnamon infused chai. Qamar informed Umera about the furniture shops in the city. They planned a day of ordering essential furniture for the empty apartment. Umera gazed at Jahaan-Aara who played with her food caught in her own world. Her cup of tea was full and she lost her appetite.

"Aren't you hungry?" Qamar eyed her plate ready to devour the hot delicious puri.

"No. Take it." Jahaan-Aara offered him the plate and sipped her tea.

Without hesitation, Qamar grabbed the plate and scooped the halwa in the round poori wolfing it down wide mouth.

After breakfast, Jahaan-Aara and Umera began to clean the square shaped kitchen and wiped the wall and floor units.

"So, are you going to see him?" Umera sat on the floor and looked up at Jahaan-Aara who kneeled on the unit cleaning the shelves.

"Who?"

"The man who haunts you every night in your sleep?"

Jahaan-Aara's arms fell by her side. She turned looking straight into Umera's eyes.

"The man who lives in your thoughts and in your dreams? The man who runs in your veins?"

Jahaan-Aara shuddered. Umera knew her well.

"How much longer can you run away from your reality? You cannot live like this? Qamar bhai wants to take you to a healing baba, when it's not a spiritual healer you need to see."

Jahaan-Aara's heart sunk into sadness. She stepped off the unit and slumped by the counter.

"Go, see him. Don't you want to see how he is?"

Jahaan-Aara ached to see Rohail Saab. If she could, she'd see him yesterday. Where in the world would he be? Would he be at the hospital with Kiran? Or in England sourcing her treatment? Or at the haveli? Was he looking after himself? Her mind ran amok with questions surging her body with energy.

"I cannot go." Jahaan-Aara deliberated. "What do I tell my brother? That I have this burning desire to meet my former Master and beloved? The man who I was once betrothed to but he betrayed me? Umera it's not feasible. Rohail Saab is a married man caring for ill wife. What would I say to him?" Jahaan-Aara wanted to cry.

"Nothing is feasible in love." Umera stood up. "Love is love. The heart wants what it wants. Just go and see him, visit him. Remember when you had dreams about Sadia? You came to see me and I gave you answers. Your dreams mean something. They are your calling. Go-"

"Go where?" Qamar entered the kitchen with two bags spilling with fruit and vegetables. "Where is my sister going?

Umera met Jahaan-Aara's eyes.

"Your sister is going to Neelam Valley." Umera announced.

"Shush!" Jahaan-Aara hummed.

Qamar unpacked the bag filling the empty blue baskets with fresh ripe apples. Slowly and surely the apartment would be filled with food and drink. Later, the fridge would arrive allowing Umera space for her water and milk.

"Who is she going to meet in Neelam Valley?" Qamar asked.

Jahaan-Aara twisted a lock of hair stretching it to her face. Umera urged her to tell Qamar the truth. Tell him everything.

"Adila." Jahaan-Aara blurted out. "My former pupil. I was her governess."

Qamar turned around and gazed at his little sister. Dressed in a beautiful white dress, she had matured so fast. He crossed his arms and neared his head towards her.

"What about Emraad Rohail?"

Jahaan-Aara looked up at him in shock.

"You remember him?"

Qamar stood beside her. He couldn't forget the day he met the man who held the key to his sister's whereabouts. For days and weeks, he'd made the journey but never met the man. When he did meet him, the obnoxious man left an impression on him till this day.

"How can I forget that belligerent man?"

Jahaan-Aara listened attentively. "When I told him that I was your brother, he declined to entertain the idea." Qamar scoffed with malice. "He refused to believe me. It was so difficult convincing him, like I had come to steal his possession. He was rude and brash. Until I showed him our pictures and then he settled. He believed me."

Qamar looked at his sister's soft features. There was a spark of energy in her eyes that was absent for the past few months. Something about Emraad Rohail possessiveness of his sister left him in wonderment. Was he only her master? Was there something more.

"Soon we talked and he trusted me. I guess he was protective of you, choti." Qamar winked at her and smiled. It reassured Qamar that Emraad Rohail cared for Jahaan-Aara and wouldn't let any man close to his sister.

"I didn't believe that he would deliver my letter to you. I had suspicions that he had ulterior motives." Qamar stared into the vacant wall looking back at the past, when he was clutching at straws desperate for information about his sister.

"I didn't trust him. But he came through, for me."

Qamar smiled and met his sister's eyes. "He bought us together."

Umera smiled with relief.

"So, if you want to see him, for whatever reason-" He left it open for her to intercept but Jahaan-Aara remained tight lipped. "-It's totally up to you. You had a life before me. I cannot stop you from seeing your old friends or making new ones."

A powerful force of energy surged in Jahaan-Aara's body. Qamar allowed her a perfect excuse to see her old friend. That's what Rohail Saab was in the eyes of the world. She would return to the haveli for news on an 'old friend.' When Qamar left the apartment to make enquiries on the delivery of the fridge, Umera and Jahaan-Aara held a muted celebration. It was time to return to Thornager Haveli. It was time to meet Rohail Saab.

****
It was the coolness of the thick air that instantly hit Jahaan-Aara when she made her way into the valley. It was mid-August and the rivers were dangerously high. The calm waters would beckon an amateur swimmer and soon they would be sucked into the whirlpool of death. Already, there were two deaths reported on the local newspaper.

Jahaan-Aara could smell the fragrance of the neem leaves in the air. Twigs snapped beneath her black flat shoes. With her satchel bouncing on her hip, her black abbaya swayed with the cool wind as she made her way on the narrow path cutting through the steep valley.

A small way into the valley, the river dropped in close to the hillside and ran deep and blue. The water was cool and refreshing, and Jahaan-Aara dipped her hand into the small waterfall for a refreshing drink. The water was lined with trees, pine, birch, redwood, fresh and green with every spring carrying by their roots of the debris of the monsoon flooding. She inhaled the thick air with the dampness of monsoon heavy on the branches.

Making her way into the bazaar, the merciless sun shone down upon the market. Beads of sweat glistened on everyone's forehead and many faces turned red due to the sweltering heat. Some held a hand against their forehead to shield themselves from the sun, others made fans out of newspapers or magazines .The salty odour of sweat mingled with the nose tingling aroma of spices and the sweet smell of flowers came from the florist's shop. The concoction of smells gave the market a rather unique scent, which hung in the air from early morning to late evening.

A group of women made their way towards the vegetable stall fresh with fresh with; turnips, swede, fat carrots and bunches of cilantro. The sellers saw the women coming and rolled their eyes and put up a fuss, flailing arms to shoo the women away. But the regular women knew her money was good and it was all part of the act selling. If the woman haggled at every stall to their lowest price, it meant less shirts to iron and less floors to scrub.

It was the fresh ripe golden-oranges piled high into a mountain that attracted Jahaan-Aara. Rohail Saab enjoyed freshly squeezed oranges. The oranges were rounded, hard and heavy in her hand She pressed the orange against her nose and breathed in the fresh zesty burst.

"40 Rupees a kilo, sister."

"Oh my Allah!" Gasped the tanned woman standing beside Jahaan-Aara." Only yesterday I bought them for 30 rupees. In one day, a 10 rupee hike?"

The stall holder wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm in a fury.

"Hurry up!" He snapped at the tanned woman annoyed that her loose mouth cost him 10 rupees.

The stall holder bagged the oranges into a black plastic bag and took 30 rupees from Jahaan-Aara.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?" Said Jahaan-Aara

The tanned woman turned around on hearing Jahaan-Aara's sweet voice speaking in fine Urdu. She was intrigued glaring at the petite young woman from top to bottom. This young woman wasn't from the valley. The politeness in her voice was proof. With her hand on her hip, the tanned woman stared at Jahaan-Aara .

"Kya hai Bibi?" Asked the vendor.

"Do you know if the master of Thornager Haveli is at home? This is the only road out of the valley."

The woman gasped with her hand on her mouth.

"She asked me." The vendor snapped at her. "Why are you gasping?"
Another short woman scurried at the stall gripped with curiosity when she clasped her eyes on Jahaan-Aara's modest attire.

"She doesn't know about that cursed house." The tanned woman argued with the vendor.
"It's not cursed." The vendor shook his head.

"Isn't it?!" The tanned woman looked at Jahaan-Aara with her finger on her mouth. "Bad luck comes in threes. Now look, the waylayti (western) Saab's wife was brutally burned." She counted on her podgy fingers. "Then he brings her back to the haveli and the entire haveli is soon on fire and burned to ashes."

Jahaan-Aara's gasped in shock. "What?!"

"We went on numerous occasions to see his wife-" The short woman interjected. "But that brute of a master never let us see her. He was hiding her."

"The haveli was on fire?" Jahaan-Aara neared her desperate to learn more. "How is Rohail Saab?" She was terrified to ask.

The tanned woman touched each ear with her right hand. "Tauba. Tauba. That Waylayti Saab is suffering terribly beti. I wouldn't wish what he is going through on my worst enemy. He's better off dead than alive."

Was he burned from the fire? The image of Badr-un-Nisa flashed before Jahaan-Aara. Wrapped in bandages and hissing with pain; had Rohail Saab met an unfortunate end? Jahaan-Aara backed away unaware she hit a motorbike. The rider beeped at her and the bag of oranges slipped from her hand. The round oranges rolled down the road taking a head-start on the path to the haveli.

"Bibi! Your oranges!" Pointed the woman.

The noise, dust and the heat confused her. Jahaan-Aara made haste. She quickened stepping over the rolling oranges. Fear gripped her.

He's better off dead than alive.

________________________________________________________________

Author's note: It's with great sadness I announce that the final chapter will be published this weekend. It's time. My heart breaks.

What will Jahaan-Aara find on her discovery?

Has the fire harmed Rohail Saab?