Chapter 1
The sun blazed down on the identical, brown buildings, dying the surroundings in bright yellow. The clear sky hung above Cairo and the bright shine, pouring down on the busy streets, tinted the city with gold. The air boiled as if preparing to set itself on fire, and the sand, covering the roads, created clouds, shrouding the people.
Edging away from the crowd, Asim crossed the street and jumped up on the sidewalk. His eyes flitted around the gravel-covered ground and the traffic lights flickering in red. The cars, almost crashing into each other, beeped and honked, filling the atmosphere with overwhelming noise.
Used to this sight, Asim's eyes moved on the short, old buildings and their faded, moth-eaten walls, nearly on the verge of collapse. Colorful clothes rippled in the air, hanging from the balconies. Children kept running past him, jolting and cuffing the walkers, their careless laughter and chatter mingling with the street clamor.
Feeling the sweat beads forming on his forehead, Asim wiped it with the back of his hand and sped up, finally seeing the familiar building. Exhaling from relief, he ran inside and then up the stairs, leading to the third floor. Knocking on the iron door, Asim leaned against the wall, catching a breath. Stuffy air had piled up in the dimly lit halls.
Footsteps reached him before the door opened, and a man wearing a black suit appeared, a folder packed with papers stuck under his arm.
"Omari, you’re already leaving?" Asim gasped as the man walked out while letting him inside. "Oh, you never have time."
"What can I do? That's the fate of a professor," Omari raised his bushy brows before waving and scurrying down the stairs. "Bye!"
"Good luck!" Asim's words followed him before he closed the door and felt someone clinging on his legs. "Oh, who might it be? It's someone very strong!" Asim exclaimed with fake surprise before bending over and peeling the kid off his legs, lifting him in the air.
The boy giggled, shining his milky teeth. "Uncle!" Asim grinned and ruffled the boy’s hair.
Presently, a soft voice reached him before Asim saw a young girl in her early twenties rushing to him, her curls bouncing above her shoulders.
"Femi! Salām 'alaykum!" Asim kissed her cheeks, "Where's your mother?"
"In the kitchen," Femi replied before slipping into her shoes and rushing out.
"Everyone's so busy in this family!" Asim smiled at the boy and let him down.
The smell of toasted falafel, shampoo, and perfume mixed up in the small apartment. The
sound of the shower reached through the closed bathroom door as Asim passed by it, going into the kitchen.
A woman stood at the gas stove, frying eggs while a tea-pot whistled on the side. Asim stopped at the doorway, watching her and listening to the various domestic sounds cascading through the house.
"It's never calm here with six children, right?" he asked aloud, drawing her attention.
"Brother!" the woman beamed at him and turned off the stove. "Why did you come so early?"
"Thought I could drive the kids to school," he replied, kissing her cheeks, feeling her exhaustion spreading onto him. "Let me help you, Lapis."
He began filling five plates with eggs while Lapis poured tea in the mugs.
"Kids, food!" Lapis shouted, and in a second, footsteps began hurrying toward them. Three boys and a girl crashed through the doorway like ants crawling into their hole.
Trying to outrun each other, the kids flopped at the table with loud blabber, filling their cheeks with food.
"Kids, what do you say to your uncle?!" Lapis scolded.
"Salām 'Alaykum!" they squealed without lifting their heads, filling their mouths.
A burst of laughter broke out of Asim, amused by the kid's laxity.
"Where's Dalila?" he asked, glancing toward the closed door of her bedroom. "Getting ready," the little girl forced the words through her stuffed mouth.
Nodding, the man sat at the table, looking out of the window. Sunlight illuminated the caramel-colored tips of pyramids in the distance, behind the high-rises, enveloped by the heat and glow. White clouds drifted by like ragged scraps of cotton, too thin and wispy to do much against the powerful Egyptian sun.
The light footsteps brought a smile to Asim's lips before his head turned, eyes fixing on the girl entering the kitchen. Just a glimpse of her chocolate-brown eyes shaded with long lashes was enough for warmth to pour into Asim's heart.
"Dalila!" he greeted. "How are you?"
A subtle smile dimpled the girl's cheeks before she sat at the table. Looking at her lowered brows and hair framing her pale face, Asim realized that the girl wasn't her cheerful, lighthearted self.
"I'm fine," she muttered and sipped the tea.
Asim and Lapis shared a look, the mother's concerned eyes saying the same he was thinking.
"Everything okay?" Asim asked, his heart shattering in pieces as he watched Dalila's pursed lips and lifeless eyes.
"Yes, I'm just tired," the girl forced a momentary smile that soon faded like snow on a warm spring day.
Asim was about to ask more when the kids jumped up, leaving the dirty plates behind, and ran into the hallway.
"We'll be late for school!" they let out, grabbing their bags.
Not even touching her breakfast, Dalila stood up, long and lustrous hair, as dark and opaque as her eyes, spilling down her back.
As she left to put on her shoes, Asim turned to his sister, who had begun washing the plates.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked. "Did something happen?"
"I have no idea," Lapis replied, her voice edged with worry. "She's barely talking these days, and locks herself up in her bedroom when she’s not pushing food around her plate at the table," her tone began wavering. "I try to ask, but she says nothing."
Asim's eyes returned to the girl. Dalila stood at the door, motionless, her eyes blankly staring into space. Her body was there, but her mind kept flying far away.
Asim felt uneasiness creeping up on him as he wondered what happened to the vibrant, light-hearted and smiling Dalila that she used to be.
Chapter 2
Four kids squealed in the back seat of the car, their loud, lively voices flooding the atmosphere.
Asim looked through the rear-view mirror with a smile, his hands gripping the wheel before his eyes moved back to the line of cars squeezed in front of them. The traffic lights showed green, but not even a gap had been left between the vehicles, and all they could do was inch their way through the jam.
Asim peeked at Dalila, sitting next to him, the seat belt tight around her torso. She kept staring out of the window, her eyes pinned on one spot, her breath getting sharper as if dark thoughts floated in her mind.
"You have a big test coming?" Asim asked, his voice cutting through the deafening noise. Dalila looked at him, her eyes disoriented.
"What?" She mumbled, then grasped the reality as if Asim had pulled her back to the present. "Oh. Um, no, we already had exams."
"Then what is it?" Asim asked, then pushed the pedal, as the street had emptied a little.
"You seem worried."
The children continued joking and teasing, ignoring their surroundings.
"No, it's nothing," Dalila said aloud to force the words through her siblings' laughter.
Used to it, she just glanced at them without comment.
"Really?" Asim asked, careful not to cross the line and pressure the girl. "Maybe
something happened with your friends?"
The cars began moving faster, and the crowded streets got lighter. Asim sped the engine up, glimpsing at the glowing digital clock beneath the wheel.
"No, everything's fine with friends too," Dalila replied, forced contentment oozing from her voice. "I'm a student. I'm tired of homework and projects. That's all."
Asim nodded, keeping quiet. His eyes lingered on Dalila's hands, neatly placed into her lap, the deep purple shirt folding over her jeans. Usually, she would turn on the radio and move her body with the rhythm of the music, making the tired morning joyful. But now, she sat unmoving, like an ivy-covered statue.
The white, three-floored building appeared at the end of the street. Children walked inside, carrying heavy backpacks.
"Kids, off you go!" Asim looked back at them with a broad smile.
The children fixed their bags and opened the door.
"Bye, uncle!" The gaggle of kids waved and jumped out of the car.
Asim watched them running into the schoolyard, joining a group of friends before awoman approached them, leading the kids into the building. The sharp sound of bell ringing reached through the closed windows, and Asim started the engine.
Now, left alone, Asim and Dalila sunk into a silence so heavy, the moment felt concretized in space. Asim inhaled, feeling his pulse rising. He wanted to talk but couldn't find the right words. It had always been easy with Dalila.
Ah, memories of the Dalila he used to know. The open-hearted girl with whom Asim always shared everything going on around and inside him. He loved listening to her, watching her get immersed in the conversation. But now, uttering even one word seemed too hard.
Dalila steadfastly avoided his gaze while the car darted down the road, and the more the distance shortened to her college, the more doubts emerged in Asim's busy mind.
Dalila's eyes landed on the tall, narrow building with young adults gathered at the entrance stairs, chatting or reading from thick books.
The car stopped, and Dalila grabbed the seatbelt to get out before Asim interrupted. "Wait a minute!" he pleaded, and Dalila fell back in the chair. "Please, look at me." Dalila slowly put her head up, her eyes locking on Asim. They darkened, like the sun setting in a dense forest. Sadness poured into Asim, feeling the girl's soul hiding behind this mask of apathy.
"You know you can always tell me anything. You...do know that, right?" Asim's voice vibrated through the car. "Absolutely anything. I'll always listen."
Staring at him silently, Dalila said nothing. Her lips split but soon closed, and she smiled weakly.
"Of course, Uncle, I know," she said and opened the door, turning her back at him as if to hide tears. "Thanks."
Without looking back, she slammed the door and rushed to the college. Asim watched her passing by the students and disappearing through the doorway.
Sighing, he sat there for a few minutes as though waiting for Dalila to come back and say what she had suppressed.
Finally, giving up, Asim started the car and pulled out in the streets. ***
The sun had hidden behind the horizon, the last strings of light fighting with the gloom covering the sky, like black paint dripping down a white canvas. The murk settled into the city, shrouding the buildings, soothing the burnt roads with a cool breeze.
Asim stood at the window, watching the deep red glow of the setting sun floating above Cairo. The rooftops glistened in the sheen, soaking the last drops of sunlight.
He turned, putting the leftovers in the fridge, and washed the plate. Then, flopping on the couch, he closed his eyes, letting the calm evening lull his tired body and soul. After the long workday, he needed nothing more than good sleep.
But Dalila's melancholic face kept floating before him like a photo on a lake's surface.
Suddenly, his phone chimed, startling him. He quickly answered it, then sunk back on the couch.
"Good evening, Lapis," he greeted his sister.
"Is Dalila with you?" the woman's panicking voice reached from the other end of the line. "No, she's not here," Asim sat up, his heart skipping a beat. "I haven't seen her since this morning."
"She hasn't come home after the classes!" Horror surged through Lapis' tone. "She's always home at his time.”
"Have you called her? Her friends?!" Asim stood up.
"Of course, she's not answering, and her friends have no idea where she is.” Lapis fights back tears. “They say she didn't even attend the classes."
"But I saw her going into the building," Asim murmured, his eyes darting.
"Omari and I are going to the police right now," Lapis let out. Asim heard Omari's inaudible voice and the door opening. "In the station."
"I'll be there!" Asim exclaimed and hung up.
For a second, he didn't know what to do, as if his body had forgotten how to function. But he soon revived and, frantically tying his shoes, he dashed out of the apartment.
Chapter 3
The night buzzed with activity, bright yellow lights flickering and piercing the darkness. The street and car lights mixed up, shining together with a blended artificial glow.
The glass doors opened automatically as Asim rushed through them, running into the hallway of the police station. His eyes soon landed on Lapis and Omari, leaning on the counter, talking to the receptionist with helpless expressions. Three strangers sat on the plastic chairs in the corner, peeking toward the desperate parents.
As soon as Lapis saw her brother, she let go of the table edge, hurrying to him, her eyes enlarged with panic.
"They're saying police can't start looking for her yet," Lapis let out, her voice gruff from crying. "They say she has to be missing for at least 48 hours."
The dim lights and gray walls brought even more misery to the woman's shriveled, sleepless, pale face. Her bloodshot eyes kept jumping from spot to spot as if searching for answers, while her hands tugged onto Asim's jacket like a swept away flower petal grabbing at moss.
Asim felt the anger building up inside him, engulfing his soul, spreading into his veins. Edging away from his sister, he hastened toward the receptionist and slammed his fist on the counter, startling the young girl.
"48 hours?!" Asim yelled, the fire flaring up in his eyes. "A young girl is missing; how can we wait 48 hours?!"
"It's the policy, sir," the girl replied with a monotonous voice and unamused eyes, used to people screaming at her.
"Let me talk to the officers!" Asim didn't back off, feeling the fury growing in him, about to explode like a bomb.
"I can't do that, sir," the girl shook her head. "Please, wait 48 hours and contact us if she hasn't still shown up."
About to bump his fist again and let out a shout, Asim felt someone pulling him back. Turning, he saw Omari grasping him by his shoulders. The shock froze Asim, his shouts dying inside his throat - he had never seen Omari's eyes so full of sorrow and anguish. Wide-open and smeared with tears, his eyes quivered, looking straight at Asim.
"Please, calm down," Omari begged with a shaky voice - so weak as if coming from a small, powerless animal. "However much we demand, it won't change a thing. We have to wait."
As if these words sucked all the energy out of Asim, he dropped his shoulders and exhaled.
"Let's go home," Lapis sobbed out. "Kids are alone."
Dragging their feet out of the station, the three approached Asim's car before flopping in their seats. Asim started the engine, glancing at Lapis in the back seat. She had fixed her eyes on the window, just like Dalila that morning.
"Femi drove you here?" Asim asked as he began driving, hardly recognizing his own voice.
"Yes," she nodded. "Then she returned home to take care of the children."
Omari uttered no word until they reached home and opened the car door.
"I think we should ask her friends tomorrow," Asim's words stopped the parents. They looked back, their expressions altering from surprise. "The police aren't going to help. We need to start looking for Dalila."
After sharing a look as if speaking without words, Omari and Lapis nodded.
"The classes start at nine tomorrow," said Lapis.
Asim nodded before they closed the door, plodding into the building.
With worry weighing down on Asim's heart, he dried his eyes and joined the frantic beeping cars.
***
Muffled chatter encircled the college building, young people scattering around it like bees around a flower.
Asim stood on the sidewalk, beside Lapis and Omari. They all gazed at the students arriving early in the morning with wakeful eyes, books piled up in their arms or overflowing from their bags.
Suddenly, Asim landed his eyes on the familiar faces stepping out of a car. They were silent and looked sullen.
"They are Dalila's friends!" Asim exclaimed, pointing at them.
Lapis shot him a shocked glance before the two of them rushed over. The two girls and three boys stopped as if waiting for them to arrive. Their faces - always cheerful and bright - had loosened, their features saggy as if they'd aged during the night.
"Mr. and Ms. Salem!" One of the girls recognized Dalila's parents, her lips trembling from compassion. "Hasn't Dalila contacted you?"
Lapis shook her head, tears streaming down her sallow cheeks.
"She hasn't texted or called us either," one of the boys said, shaking his head in regret, his messy hair falling to his ears. "We saw her yesterday, but I think she left right after arriving."
With a light pink hijab around her head, the second girl kept fidgeting on her feet, picking the skin around her nails. She opened her lips and closed them before looking down, her lashes fluttering.
Asim had noticed her subtle movements. "Do you know something?" he asked, his wide eyes open and receptive.
The girl looked up, her confused eyes darting between Asim and Dalila's parents. "Ah, I..." she muttered. "I'm not really sure, but I think I saw something."
"What did you see?!" Lapis took her hands, her voice turning shrill.
Asim held his sister back, calming her with a gentle pat on the back. Scared, the girl stepped back, her eyes turning misty.
"Please, tell us everything," Asim said quietly. "Even if you're not sure. Anything could be important now."
Locking her eyes on Asim, the girl nodded, swallowing her tears.
"I didn't see Dalila's face, but I recognized her from behind," the girl uttered, tugging on
her fingers. "Just when the first class was about to begin, she got into a van." "A van?!" Omari spoke for the first time. "What van?"
"It was a white van, and a man was driving it," the girl responded.
"A man?" Asim looked at Lapis as she shook her head in perplexion. "What did he look like?"
"Late thirties, little chubby, black hair, beard," the girl said. "I don't remember more... he looked ordinary. I've seen him in the nearby grocery store a few times before."
Exhaling, Asim attempted to steady his badly strained nerves. They didn't know any man who could take Dalila. He was the only uncle she had.
"Dalila got in on her own?" he asked. "Or did he force her?"
"No, she got in willingly," the girl swallowed again as if feeling guilty for speaking. "Who could he be?" Lapis covered her mouth, digging her face in her hands.
Asim watched her sister and Omari hugging, soundlessly crying, and felt the rage gnawing at his heart. Sadness had vanished from him without a trace, replaced by an immovable obsession: he had to find this man.
He turned to the girl.
"If you see him or his van, will you be able to recognize him?" Asim asked. The girl nodded immediately.
"Good," he continued. "I will need your help."
***
Check back next week for part 2! Thank you for reading.