A strange restlessness takes hold of Abir's mind, a dull throb begins in his head. Fear tightens his breath. Standing on the balcony, he stares into the distance, his eyes fixed on the moon — steady, unblinking, unreadable.
Suddenly sensing someone's presence, he instinctively shifts his gaze. Turning his head, he sees the figure and asks calmly,
"Did something happen?"
Tanvir replies innocently, "Big Uncle found out about the fight. He told me to warn you — stay away from fights and politics."
Abir responds coolly, "Anything else?"
Tanvir hesitates, then says, "He wants you to take over the business."
"Alright," Abir replies. "Anything else you want to say?"
Tanvir pleads, "Bhaiya, just let it go. I only came to let you know. I didn't think you'd come back suddenly, and all this mess would follow. If I had known, I'd have taken care of it sooner."
Abir laughs bitterly. "You're telling me to let it go?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Tanvir says quickly. "What's done is done. I just want things to settle down. You've had a long journey. You should rest."
Abir's tone hardens. "Alright. You can leave now. From this moment on, no one's allowed to talk to you about me. Let everyone know — I've been gone for years. Now that I'm back, if anyone has anything to say, they can say it to me. And tomorrow, no one should disturb me before noon."
"Okay," Tanvir replies quietly and leaves.
By now, the moon has vanished behind the clouds. Abir stands silently, lost in thought. He returns to his room, locks the door, pulls out a cigarette, walks back to the balcony, lights it, and takes a drag…
His eyes land on the dim light of a streetlamp flickering through the branches of a faraway tree. Beneath it, two or three dogs bark restlessly.
Abir doesn't smoke often — only when he's furious, overwhelmed, or feels like everything is spinning out of control. In those moments, he lets his rage, sorrow, anxiety, and frustration fade into the smoke.
After a few puffs, he stubs the cigarette out, lies stiffly on the bed, hands behind his head, and closes his eyes.
★★★★
Megh had finished dinner and studied for hours. Though her HSC exams ended nearly a month ago, her routine has only become stricter. University admission tests are a war — her only weapon is preparation, with luck hanging in the balance. No one knows when results will come or if she'll even pass, but she's already bracing for an uncertain future. At 18, Megh has grown far beyond her years.
After studying, she lies in bed, scrolling on her new phone. But without any social media accounts, there's little to do. She watches a few YouTube videos, then sets it aside.
A thought creeps in — she should thank Abir Bhaiya. But the fear she still carries won't even let her stand in front of him. Memories come rushing back…
She was only in class five, just 9 or 10, when she met Joy, a new classmate who quickly became her friend. They shared snacks, played together. Just seven days in, Abir showed up at school and saw them. Right then, in front of everyone, he slapped Megh several times and yelled, "If I ever see you with a boy again, you'll regret it."
Without a backward glance, he dragged her home. His handprint stayed red on her cheek.
She fell ill with fever for a week. Sensitive and emotional by nature, that moment broke something in her. From that day on, she couldn't look Abir in the eyes. If he was home, she wouldn't leave her room. And Abir never once checked on her. That was when resentment, pain, and a deep revulsion for her brother took root.
Two years later, Abir left the country. In that time, Megh refused to sit near him, avoided him completely. After he was gone, she slowly shook off her fear. She even claimed the room beside his — something unthinkable had he stayed.
While abroad, Abir video-called the family a few times, asked about Megh once or twice, but she refused to speak. Eventually, he stopped asking.
Now, he's back. She hasn't seen him yet. But he's already caused trouble. As a child she couldn't express her feelings, but now just one word echoes in her mind — Hitler. She doesn't care if the comparison fits. All she can think is: she wants to thank him — but how do you talk to Hitler?
With that thought circling her mind, she falls asleep.
★★★★
At dawn, the house is alive with the sounds of cooking. The three brothers leave early for work. Mim and Adi head to school. Megh, being a late riser, gets up around 8 AM. Coaching from 10 to 2, then private tutors, a quick meal, and back to studying. Today is no different.
At exactly noon, Abir comes downstairs. His mother, Maliha Khan, immediately notices the tension in his expression and asks, "Did something happen with your father?"
Abir, composed and serious, replies, "No. Please serve the food."
The lively spark he once had is now gone — it saddens Maliha deeply. Her eyes fall on the bandage on his swollen hand.
While he eats, she gently urges him not to act rashly, speaking as if he were still her little boy — unaware of danger. To a mother, children never grow up. Abir finishes eating, says goodbye, and leaves.
★★★★
An hour later, Megh comes home, showers, and sits down to eat.
Suddenly, Tanvir rushes out of his room. "Big Aunt! Where's Bhaiya?"
"He left two, maybe three hours ago," Maliha replies. "Why?"
"Damn, just missed him!"
"What's wrong?" she asks.
Megh silently observes, trying to piece things together.
Tanvir quickly calls Abir. The voice on the other end is inaudible, but Tanvir's face lights up with excitement.
"Everyone, come outside!" he shouts.
Confused, they all follow — Mim, Adi, the moms… and finally, Megh.
A sleek blue motorcycle glides into the driveway. The rider wears a matching helmet.
He takes it off.
It's Abir.
Megh stares in stunned silence. The Abir in front of her is unrecognizable. Hair messily swept across his forehead, sunglasses on, dressed in a fitted navy-blue shirt tucked into black pants, wristwatch glinting, formal shoes — she's frozen in place.
Her heart races.
Abir speaks: "So? How's the new bike?"
His voice seems to echo straight into her.
She turns and bolts into the house, locks her door, and collapses onto the bed.
Outside, Mim and Adi squeal with excitement, begging Abir for a ride.
Maliha eyes the bike and asks, "With all the cars in the house, why'd you buy a bike?"
"I don't like cars," Abir says casually.
The kids might be overjoyed — but not the women. Maliha, Halima, and Aklima exchange anxious glances. Because in this house, motorcycles were strictly forbidden — by none other than Ali Ahmed Khan.
After a nasty accident in his youth, he had banned bikes for good. Ikbal had once dreamed of getting one but never dared go against his elder brother. Tanvir had asked too — needed one for political work — but his father Mozammel always said, "Big Brother doesn't allow bikes. Just take the car."
Abir has been home less than a day, and he's already broken the rule. The women tremble at what may come next.
★★★★
The heart of the 18-year-old is a storm — shaken, confused. She stares out the window, eyes clear but distant.
Then suddenly, she sits up, jaw clenched.
A single question crashes into her mind:
"Could it be… I have a crush on Hitler?"