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Living in Hamza's house felt like walking on thin ice. They barely spoke, exchanging only cold formalities. Yet Zara refused to let her spirit be broken. One evening, finding her shivering on the veranda as a storm rolled in, Hamza walked over and wrapped his shawl around her shoulders. Zara tried to return it, but Hamza's grip was firm. 'You are my responsibility now, Zara,' he said quietly, his eyes dark. 'Do not let your stubbornness make you ill.'