Rehan- The Nostalgic
I emerged from the bathroom to see my sister in tears on the couch, and a news story playing on the TV.
FORMER FBI AGENT DALIYA ANWAR WAS MURDERED YESTERDAY NIGHT.
...Daliya Anwar?
"Yes!" She turned to me. "Do you remember Daliya Anwar? I was telling you about her the other night. She was a close family friend a neighbor, the one who took me in after...." Her voice trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence, which was understandable. Her words inspired a new memory to come to me.
"Thanks for biking with him." Daliya said to me. "I never like it when he bikes home alone."
"No problem, Auntie." I said, tipping my newsboy cap in a comedic gesture. She laughed and led Rayees up the stairs to their apartment, with me following behind them.
"Samaira?" I asked, in a gentle voice. She quickly wiped her tears and stood up, facing me. Her eyes were rimmed red and her hair was a little disheveled, from nervously running her hands through it.
"She's gone, Rehan." She said in a small, shaking voice. "She's dead." I hugged her as she cried. I looked at the footage that was displaying on the news, and I remembered what Samaira had told me from her conversation with Mrs. Anwar.
"Mrs. Anwar told me that she recalled some big case that Michael and our father worked on. I think she said it was some big drug bust? It was a long time ago and she didn't remember much.. But she does know that after that case was solved, Michael and our father never worked on any case together and they pretty much avoided each other."
My mind automatically suspected him. Were there some other hidden secrets that Daliya had about my father? About his enmity with Michael? Daliya Anwar was close enough to our family, who potentially had secrets about Michael's and Kashan's history. But, once again, I didn't have any proof. Just simple accusations.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me out of my thoughts. Samaira took a seat back onto the couch, changing the channel to another news network, while I stepped out onto the balcony. I looked at the number.
(212)-384-1000.
I frowned. Who was calling me? I picked it up.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"Hello, Mr. Mansoor. I'm Darian Henderson, and I work with the FBI." My heart started pounding. How did they get my number? I glanced briefly at my little sister, but my heart refused to accept it. She wouldn't do that... would she?
"What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.
"We were wondering if you could come down to HQ for a brief questioning. I'm sure you've seen the recent news about the former FBI agent's murder?"
I glanced back at the TV.
"Yeah. I have." I said. "But what does that have to do with me?"
"Your family had close ties with the Anwars," Darian explained. "And not to mention...." His voice trailed off.
"Mention what?" I curiously asked. I heard a sigh over the phone.
"Do you remember Dr. Melissa Collins?" He asked. "She was your therapist after your father passed away."
"Sorry, I had a phone call I needed to take." The woman said, sitting down in the white chair in front of me. She gave me a warm smile. "Hello Rehan, I'm Dr. Collins. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Yes." I said, hesitantly. "I remember her."
"We haven't broadcasted this yet, but she was found murdered not too long before we found Mrs. Anwar's body."
"What?" I asked, in shock. She was dead? How? I couldn't seem to recall the last time I saw her. Was her death connected to what happened that day in the flower shop? I wasn't sure how long I was silent for. I winced, as a blow of the icy wind cuts into me like a knife.
"Mr. Mansoor? Is everything okay?" I had forgotten that Darian was still on the phone.
"Y-yes, I'm fine." I said. "When did you say you wanted me to come in?"
"Sometime this week." Darian said. "I'll let you pick the day." I took one final glance inside the apartment. Samaira was long gone from the living room, probably in her room, grieving. The TV was still on, still showing the murderous story.
"I'll come in tomorrow, on Monday." I said, before hanging up the phone.
*********************************************
"Where are you going?"
I removed my hand for the cold doorknob, with a sigh. I turned around to face my little sister, who was standing close to the door of her room. I thought I would be able to sneak off without her noticing. Guess I was wrong. I considering lying to her about where I was headed off to, but I know that it'll just make me feel guilty later.
"I'm going to the FBI. They wanted to interrogate me about... everything that's been going on."
She stared at me, with wide, scared eyes. There was no shock that was painted on her face. It was almost as if she knew this was coming. Did she really-
"I'm so sorry, Rehan." She said, staring at the ground. "Darian called me and I... I didn't know what else to do. I was scared." I gave her a comforting smile.
"It's alright." I said. "Really. I'm not upset. I should've seen this coming for a while. I'm going on my own accord." She returned my smile, but it was still laced with fear.
"Okay. Just... be careful, alright? And, don't say that we've reunited and about our investigations. I lied to the FBI about that." My heart sank with guilt. She still protected me and I accused her of ratting me out to the authorities. I turn the doorknob, opening the door. The hallway of the apartment complex was dead silent.
"I will." I said. I bid her a farewell, and venture out into the icy winter, my thoughts taking me far away from my current reality.
YOU ARE READING
Mandate
Mystery / Thriller"Everyone has a story to tell," He finally starts. "A wise person once told me that. He used to say, 'Son, everyone you meet in life has a story to tell. People will always describe themselves as heroes, but it's the things they do that will determi...
