Before Our Dawn| ongoing

sixteen

chapitre seize
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"Isra, darling, do you think you can head to your father's clinic and give him his lunch? I'm afraid he's forgotten it."

Isra looked up from the numbers she was scribbling in her notebook, courtesy of her father, who had begun to school her at home again as a method of distraction from her sorrows.

She frowned, knowing her mother was only using this as an excuse to force her to leave the apartment. For a month, she hadn't stepped foot outside its four walls, sheltered by the familiarity of her surroundings. Venturing out into the streets of Paris would be akin to exploring the unknown again. She wasn't ready. She wasn't sure that she'd ever be ready.

"He's been forgetting his lunch an awful lot these days," she commented, returning her attention to the notebook. "You go give it to him. I'm busy. He assigned me homework."

With a gentle voice, she tried to persuade Isra. "Isra, my love, I know it's difficult for you. But sometimes, stepping out into the world can help heal our wounds, even if just a little."

"I just need more time, Mama," she whispered.

Her mother's gaze softened, and she sat down on the chair beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I understand, my dear. Take all the time you need. But remember, life is waiting for you beyond these walls. It may not feel like it now, but there are moments of joy, of discovery, and of love that are yet to find you."

"I don't need love right now. I don't need anything. I don't need anything except Haadi."

"I know it's hard. I know, Isra. I'm so sorry."

Isra put her pencil down and closed her notebook, standing up from the dining chair – she was tired of her mother's pity. She stared at the neatly packed box of lunch meant for her father, tears pooling in her eyes for no particular reason. It had happened a lot, lately. She would shed tears with no apparent cause, and it worried her parents.

"Fine." She snatched the lunch box from her mother's hand and marched angrily to the front door, where she slipped on her black ballet flats and grabbed her grey wool coat hanging on the coat hanger.

"Thank you, Isra. I appreciate it," she said, offering her a small smile, but seeing as her effort wasn't reciprocated, she stopped smiling, watching as Isra opened the door and left the apartment.

On her way downstairs, she encountered some of the other residents, who were stunned to see her. They all knew about Tarek and Samia's daughter, the girl who had refused to leave the apartment for an entire thirty days. The bustling streets greeted her with their usual symphony of sounds and sights. She walked briskly, her footsteps echoing on the cobblestones as if trying to outrun the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. The city's charm, once vibrant and captivating, now seemed distant and muted to her weary eyes. Her coat offered little protection against the chilly air, but she pushed forward, driven by obligation and a faint flicker of curiosity.

Her mind wandered, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a tempest. Haadi was the only thing on her mind. Wherever she looked, she saw him. She saw him standing in line to purchase pasteries from the bakery, she saw him sitting at a table at a café and sipping on coffee, she saw him hailing a taxi, she saw him walk past her in a black day suit. Everywhere. She saw him everywhere.

Arriving at her father's clinic after a long, dreary walk, Isra took a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter ahead. As she pushed open the door, the familiar scent of antiseptic and bleach enveloped her. She gave the secretary a curt nod and went upstairs. She found him in his office, engrossed in a stack of patient files, his weary eyes a reflection of her own.