Before Our Dawn| ongoing

fourteen

chapitre quatorze
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The day after her birthday, Haadi had returned Isra home at dawn, just before her household would awake, and made his own way home to get ready for work.

The effects of the night they'd spent together were still prominent in his mind – he could still feel her touch, taste her kisses, and smell her perfume. There was a giddiness in his step as he walked home. His parents surely noticed his chipper mood when they saw him that morning at the breakfast table. Something about the previous night had solidified where they stood in their relationship and the future direction they were going to take, and he could hardly wait until next summer, when she turned eighteen, to whisk her away to Bourmedes and marry her there.

By eight o'clock, he was dressed in his typical work ensemble and went out the door. The sun was high in the sky, and the entire city was saturated with vibrant colours. It was a nice day to walk, but he took a cab as usual, arriving in under twenty minutes at the office.

He greeted the secretary as he always did, nodded and smiled politely at his fellow coworkers, and made his way to the third floor, where he was sure there were piles of paperwork for him to review and send back to Monsieur Arsenault.

Much to his surprise, however, he saw Francis standing by his desk when he arrived on his floor, appearing distressed and tapping his foot restlessly on the floor as he leaned back against the desk. Francis worked on the last floor, next to his father's office, and they would usually bump into each other on their breaks. So, this was an odd occurrence, one that made Haadi's stomach squeeze unpleasantly. Not to mention that they weren't exactly on the best terms since Marie's birthday party.

"Francis?"

The dark-haired French boy sprang up, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Is something wrong, Francis?" He stood in front of his friend, eyeing him up and down as worry looped in his mind. "Aren't you supposed to be upstairs with your father?"

Francis looked around the busy room before he leaned in closer to Haadi. "You're wanted upstairs. My father wants to see you."

"Monsieur Arsenault?"

"Yes, who else?" he snapped impatiently, but he quickly regained his composure, and his anxiousness returned two-fold. "From the way he spoke to me this morning, it doesn't sound good, Haadi. He's in a sour mood. I can't tell you what's wrong, but I wish I knew."

Haadi's laughter was forced and uneasy, his lips curling into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It can't be that bad, can it? Did I make a mistake in one of the reports I sent over to him last week? Is this about Monsieur Benoit?"

Francis's face contorted with worry and trepidation, his forehead furrowed deeply as if trying to solve a complex puzzle. "I don't know. But please come with me. I'm sure it's nothing though."

"Yes, you're right." His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, betraying his nervousness even further. "Let's go up, shall we?"

His eyes were wide and unblinking, darting back and forth as if searching for a solution that seemed just out of reach. "Did you see Marie this morning?"

"Marie? No. I haven't seen her since the party. But a few other people told me that she's been keeping busy working on a recent marketing project she was assigned. I don't think she's ever worked this hard before. I mean, she's all but disappeared." It was clear that he was trying to mask his consternation with a facade of humor, but he couldn't quite pull it off.

"Never mind that. Let's go."

Francis and Haadi left the third floor together, heading up to the sixth, where Monsieur Arsenault's office resided. Whatever awaited him, it wasn't going to be good – Haadi could feel it.