He was panting hard. His heart ferociously beating against his ribcage. Jittery fingers dialled Nawal's number. It was switched off. Salman erratically stormed out of his office like a mad man in search of his antidote. He banged his hand on the lift button but it took ages for the lift to arrive. Instead, he fled down the stairs. Curious gazes of his employees followed him as he sprinted out of the building.

Sweat was trickling down his temple, his hands perspiring, his feet moving on their own accord. He couldn't stop. He couldn't think. He had to reach to her. He could still hear her deathly scream. He unlocked his car and slid inside. Trembling hands on steering wheel, he brought the engine to life. It was race against time.

Where was she? Where would he find her? Who was after her?

As the phone slipped from his moist palm, he remembered the tracking application. In the preceding months, he never bothered to look up the application. In fact, once he was on the verge of deleting the application but today he was glad he didn't.

He clicked on the app, waiting the mere seconds seemed like ages. The clock was ticking and his worries were escalating. Coombe Women and Children Hospital, Dublin 8, the application blinked and the map showed her exact location that was last detected before the phone was switched off. The only problem was it was going to take him around an hour to reach in this heavy afternoon traffic. Right now, he paid no heed to traffic rules. He had to reach her.

The car raced exceeding the speed limit, traffic lights crossed with little attention. They had to meet two hours later. She had to go to the hospital appointment. What happened? Why did she panic so much?

In the midst of changing gears and steering the car through the dense sea of cars, Salman's phone blared non-stop. After the second missed call, when the phone rang again. Salman exasperatedly answered his mother's call when he was stuck in the traffic.

Switching on the speaker of the phone, Seema's worried voice filled the car, "Salman where are you?"

"Ammi I am driving I will talk later," he muttered, his eyes on the windshield.

"Nawal had an accident. I just got a call from the Coombe Hospital. My number was on the emergency contact list on her hospital card." Her voice now hysterical, "They are taking her to St. James General Hospital. She has suffered many injuries."

His heart skipped a beat. Car accident? Injuries? His desperation to reach increased immensely. In frustration, Salman's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I am on my way there."

"I am coming as well." Seema whimpered, "Ya Allah keep my Nawal and the baby safe. Ameen"

Ameen, his heart cried.

He wasn't ready to believe something would happen to her.

His throat squeezed, his foot on the accelerator pushed with force.

He won't let anything happen to her. He would fight the world for her.

Indeed a long battle was ahead...

****

Heedlessly, the car in the no-parking zone outside the hospital main gate, Salman ran to the emergency department.

Breathlessly, he enquired about his wife, "I am looking for my wife, Nawal Ahmed. She is a 9 month pregnant woman who was brought here after a car accident."

The receptionist glanced at him and then turned to the desktop on the reception's desk, "Just give me a minute."

Her eyes scanned the computer screen as she typed on the keyboard. "She is in the CT scan room right now. We were waiting for her family to arrive. Why don't you have a seat and the consultant would like to meet you."

CT Scan? What was going on?

His eyes grew round. He stood frozen in front of the receptionist. "C..CC..CT Scan?" he stammered.

The receptionist glanced at his face and noticed that he was turning white. "Please have a seat and Consultant is on his way to speak to you." She tried her best to reassure him.

Dumbfounded, Salman nodded, taking few steps away from the reception's desk, he was lost. People were rushing in and out. Ambulance sirens blaring. The newscaster announcing the news on the television set in the waiting room. He didn't hear anything. His mind reeling with all the different consequences of the accident.

Nawal's face flashed in front of him, her lips adorned in red lipstick and her black kohl lining her eyes. The day she believed would eradicate all distances between them. How he had effortlessly walked away from her. Disappointment written all over her face. The last time he had seen her.

He pursed his lips, leaning the back of his head against the wall, he closed his eyes. A plea leaving his lips,

Ya Allah keep her safe. I just want her safe.

"Excuse me? Are you related to Nawal Ahmed?" asked the man in green scrubs.

Salman tilted his head and eyed the short Arab man, "Yes, I am her husband." He answered perfunctorily and numbly.

The man stretched out his hand, "I am Dr. Al-Ghafari."

Salman shook his hand, "Doctor, my wife?" he held his breath as he dreaded to learn about her.

"I don't have good news. She is unconscious right now. We have detected haemorrhage at the back of her head which needs serious attention. We will be going for surgery to drain out the blood. And also the baby has gone in distress. Therefore, a team of doctors and midwives from Coombe Hospital are on their way and we will also do an emergency C section. Both surgeries will be done at the same time as we need to save both Nawal and the baby."

Salman stared at the doctor as all the details were explained. His heart beat rising with each word, a cold chill going down his spine.

"W...w...will she be alright?"

Dr. Al-Ghafari smiled sympathetically, "We are doing our best." The doctor eyes roved at the distressed husband's face and gently patted his shoulder, "Inshaa Allah. Pray for her."

Dr. Al-Ghafari stepped back and said, "If you want you can come and see her as we would be taking her to the operation theatre in a couple of minutes."

Salman wasn't able to voice his assent or his feelings. He nodded and like a zombie amidst darkness, he followed the doctor. His feet were heavy, his heart beating ferociously, sweat trickling down his temple. Nearing the ICU (Intensive Care Unit) room, the beeping of the various monitoring machines and the medicinal sterilizer smell hit him, grasping the situation. This was all real. It wasn't a nightmare.

Gazing at his wife through the glass at the door nearly brought him to his knees. There laying on the hospital bed with countless machines monitoring her every vital statistics, he didn't recognize her. The pale woman with scratches and cuts on her hands and face was his wife. Her hijab was taken off and he could see blood seeped in her hair. Her body was covered with the thin cotton blue blanket. She looked frail laying there even though her protruding stomach was prominent. He walked in the room, a nurse whispering her greeting. He didn't hear the greeting, his eyes only at his lifeless wife, he crossed to her bed.

Tears filled his eyes. Where was the woman who was determined to impress him with her charm two weeks ago? Where was the woman that was glowing with motherhood? How did she end up in bed like this?

"We are ready to take her to the surgery," called the male nurse standing at the foot of the bed. The other male nurse slightly shoved Salman out of the way, "You will have to step aside."

Salman staggered back and remained rooted as the two male nurses wheeled her bed out of the room. The glimpse of her dark brown hair stained with blood was the last sight of her that he saw.

The other nurses left the room leaving behind a lone man in his despair.

Tears flowed as anguish filled his blood. The first cracks on his pride appeared. In the past, he had easily schemed plans in his favour. But today, this was beyond his control.

He was helpless in front of the Lord of the Worlds. For the first time in his life, he felt vulnerable. Indeed, he had no control of the happenings.

He was in delirious pain. It was a great effort to lift his eyelids. When he did, Daud didn't recognize his surroundings.

Where was he?

What happened?

A familiar beeping sound was hammering on his head. The throbbing on his face restricted him to move his head. His blue eyes roved around the room until they settled on a doctor and nurse speaking to each other in the corner. With great effort, he parted his lips but no sound came out. His mind was still fuzzy, he blinked once, twice then thrice. Slowly it came back.

Nawal. The chase. The accident.

Frustration was building by the minute as he couldn't move or speak. A painful groan left his lips, gaining attention of the doctor and the nurse. Immediately, they turned to him, a satisfactory smile spreading on the doctor's face.

Dr. O'Finnigan walked to his bedside and said, "Hello Daud. I see you are finally responding to medication. How do you feel?"

"Pain," he mumbled.

Nodding, the doctor lifted the Daud's hospital file and fiddled with her pen, "Can you rate the pain? 10 being the highest and 1 the lowest, how bad is it right now?"

His eyelids drooped and he grumbled, "Ten."

Biting her lip, the doctor noted it down on the open file, "We will need to increase the morphine dosage then," she instructed the nurse.

Nurse Jenny agreed, "Okay I will."

"Has his family been contacted?" Dr. O'Finnigan asked as she flipped a couple of pages in the hospital file.

"Yes, the Garda (police) were able to find his parents numbers. They were just informed. They should be here soon."

"Good. We need to discuss with them about his injuries." Closing the file, Dr. O'Finnigan solemnly concluded, "We have a long way of recovery ahead of us."

****

It was an agonising wait. Salman was asked by the nurses to wait at the reception area of the third floor of the hospital where the operation theatres were located. Agitated, he had been walk up and down the hall in dread and anticipation. Praying with his heart and his lips moving in silent plea for the health and safety of his wife and baby. He was oblivious to the time when his parents joined him in waiting. All he cared at that moment was to hear some update and hopefully a good news.

It had been nearly forty minutes passed since Nawal had been taken in the operation theatre. So far, no one had appeared from the operation theatre. He was restless by the minute. Not able to wait any longer he walked up to the gates of the hall that led to a number of operation theatres.

Seconds passed to a minute. Minutes ticked away but no one emerged from the door. Exhaling in bleakness, Salman was slowly turning away when Midwife Ann Murphy in her white uniform pushed the swinging doors.

"Are you Nawal Ahmed's husband?"

Salman nodded vigorously. His constricted throat made it difficult to speak.

Ann smiled softly, "Congratulations you have a baby girl."

Salman's eyes teared. "Alhumdulilah (Praise be to Allah)" he mumbled and then he voiced his prime concern, "And my wife?"

The smile slide away from Ann's face, "She is still undergoing the brain surgery."

He swallowed hard the tightness in throat, getting a grip of the reality. His wife was fighting for life in the operation theatre at a time when it would have been one of the most poignant moments of their lives.

"I am here so that you can see you daughter as well as it would help her a lot if she has skin to skin contact with her parent. Ideally it is with the mother, the baby is placed on the mother's chest but since Nawal is still in the operation theatre it would be best if you hold the baby for a few minutes before we move her to the neonatal unit in Coombe Hospital."

Salman's eyebrows rose and worry etched his face, "Why? Is she not well?"

"We need to take precautions as she is not a full term baby. And also because of the accident we need to make sure she hasn't gone through any distress. She is showing signs of a healthy baby. Hopefully, there is no need to worry."

Nodding, Salman followed the nurse to the empty operation theatre where a consultant and another midwife were examining the baby.

Dr. Byrne smiled in greeting, "Congratulations. She is a beautiful and healthy baby."

Wrapped in a blue cotton hospital blanket, the little baby was then placed in Salman's arms. His eyes were running over the tiny being. A baby.

She was beautiful. Utterly beautiful just like her mother. Rosy cheeks, closed eyelids, bow shaped lips and... a dimpled chin just like his. His lips quivered, a lone tear made its way down his cheek, why did he ever doubt her? This baby in his arms was his. Truly his.

He clutched the tiny baby to his chest and a wail left his lips. His shoulders shook in defeat. He never thought he would welcome his daughter this way to the world.

****

Minutes later the baby girl was placed in a portable incubator and was ready to depart. Salman's eyes lingered on the small baby that was only dressed in a nappy and a blanket. Her satiny white skin gleaming under the hospital lights. His heart was torn in two pieces. He couldn't depart his baby girl and nor could he leave the reception area of the operation theatres.

Pursed his lips, he was discussing with the doctor how long the baby would stay in the neonatal unit.

"We would think around 24-48 hours. Not more as we see she is a healthy baby." Dr. Bryne informed.

His eyes again straying back to the baby. Indecisively, he nodded.

Seema touched Salman's arm, "Salman I will go to the Coombe Hospital with the baby. You don't worry, just be here for Nawal." Her tear streaked face showed all signs of stress. Since she had joined her son at the hospital, she'd been crying, imploring to Allah for the safety of her daughter in law and her granddaughter.

Seema's suggestion eased some of Salman's apprehensions. When the nurses wheeled the incubator out of the hall and out of sight. He was not as nervous and anxious knowing his mother was with the baby.

****

After two hours of waiting, finally, Dr. AL-Ghafari walked through the swinging doors of the operation theatre. Shoulders hunched, head bowed, Salman was seated on one of the sturdy plastic chairs in the reception area when he spotted the consultant. Hastily, rising to his feet, he rushed to the doctor.

"Doctor, what is the news?" he enquired breathlessly.

"The surgery was successful but we will know for sure in a few hours to see how her body reacts. She may not be conscious for a while if her medications work. And if..." the doctor paused. He cleared his throat and said, "There are chances she may go in a coma. Brain injuries can do that. We will know for sure as we monitor her condition after this surgery."

Salman's eyes widened and fear lurked his heart. Coma? His Nawal in coma? How was that possible? This wasn't making sense. He had seen and heard of such patients in stories and movies. Never did he think, he would have to see his loved one facing the same fate.

"What do you mean by coma?" Salman needed answers.

"It was a traumatic brain injury she went through. There was swelling as well as bleeding. We fear this may have affected the RAS which is Reticular Activating System, a part of the brain that's responsible for arousal and awareness." Dr. Al-Ghafari explained patiently in a calm voice.

But Salman wasn't anywhere near calm. "I need to know will she be alright as she was before this accident." His voice rising with each word. He took a threatening step towards the doctor, "You said you were doing your best. What happened?"

"We have done what we could. Brain injuries are severe and take time to recover –"Dr. Al-Ghafari voice lowered trying his best to pacify the hysterical husband.

Salman shook his head, "No I can't believe this. How could this be possible?" His rage increasing. Helplessness was igniting anger within him. He wasn't able to do anything for her.

Before Salman could further express his fury, Muhammad clasped his shoulder from behind him, "Salman enough." he turned to the doctor and politely smiled, "Thank you very much. We really appreciate all your efforts put into saving Nawal and inshaa Allah she will have a quick recovery."

In response, the doctor smiled in his professional way and without another word left the agonising relatives of his patient.

Salman clenched his jaw, "Why didn't you let me speak to him? I needed more details."

"This is not how you speak to a doctor. Salman have patience. Inshaa Allah she will be alright. Your anger will not do anyone any good." Muhammad gently reminded his son.

Salman shrugged his shoulder free from his father's grip and walked away.

Muhammad understood his son's turmoil. For the first time, he realized that his son loved passionately and deeply just as he loved his wife. The mere thought of being separated from Seema always frightened him. He saw the same madness and gloominess in Salman's eyes.

For his son's sake, he prayed that Nawal recover quickly and be by his son's side where she belonged.

****

It was hours later, Nawal was moved in the ICU room where she was being closely monitored. After staying in the recovery for an hour, she was brought back in the ICU. There was not much improvement. Salman was limited to visit her as well. Visitors in the ICU room were restricted, which is why Salman was strolling up and down the hall outside the ICU room. But there were no updates. He had asked the nurses countless of times whether there was any news. The nurses pitied him and they gently would say 'no'.

Disconcerted, he ran his hand through his hair again and again. At this point of time nothing mattered. His work clothes were all wrinkled up. His hair a mess. Worry lines visible on his forehead. Redness brimming in his eyes.

Muhammad didn't leave for home either. He couldn't leave his son alone in such a desolate state. After hours spent in the waiting room, Muhammad again approached Salman.

"Beta, let's go and sit down. You haven't sat for a long time. Your feet must be aching." Muhammad eyes following Salman's every movement.

"I am fine Abou," he muttered.

"Okay at least have a sip of water," Muhammad offered him the RiverRock mineral water bottle.

Gladly, Salman took a hold of it and mindlessly quenched his thirst. In all his concern, he didn't even have a glass of water.

"Abou I am worried. Why isn't she responding to the medicine or the surgery?" for the first time Salman spoke out loud his fears as he dumped the empty bottle in the plastic bin at the hall.

"She will inshaa Allah. She has gone through a lot. It will take time." Muhammad quietly reassured him although his qualms were rising by the minute as well.

That is when a team of Doctors in their white coat strode in the hall. Dr. Al-Ghafari among the many doctors nodded in greeting at the two aghast men and hastily proceeded to Nawal's room. Closing the door behind them, the doctors commenced their investigation.

Minutes passed by and Salman distress rose to a higher degree. In just few short minutes, Dr. Al-Ghafari came out of the room, gravely glancing at the father and son duo.