The Imperials

Letting Go

Dedicated to my 'His Hafizah and Her Hafiz' readers. 

*For those of you who are just reading this book only, Abu Hurairah and Safoora are Halimas parents and also main characters from 'his hafizah and her hafiz'.

[Extra]

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Abu Hurairah 

In her letter, Halima had instructed me to call Paxton if there was any emergency. Although this didn't fit the textbook definition of an emergency, as a parent, it felt like the closest clue I had. I had to get to the bottom of this, no matter what it meant for me. The thought of facing my past sent a shiver down my spine. Paxton represented a chapter of my life I had tried to lock away, filled with reckless decisions and haunting memories. Yet here I stood, trembling but resolute, driven by the desperate need to find my daughter.

I dialed Paxton's old number with trembling fingers, desperately praying he picked up. This was his old number, a number I had scribbled in my highschool notebooks decades ago, a relic of my past that felt both foreign and haunting. I didn't even know if it would work. If it did, it was probably pure luck!

My thoughts were still a chaotic mix of worry and confusion about Halima—my daughter who had vanished without a trace. The very idea that she could just disappear left me feeling unmoored, like a ship adrift on a stormy sea. Each ring of the phone seemed to stretch my anxiety further, pulling at my nerves with every echo.

"Hello?" Paxton's voice finally crackled through the line after going to voicemail three times. It was a familiar sound, a voice that has aged over the years, but there was an odd hesitation in his tone, something that made my heart tighten with unease. I have not called him for ages, no decades, ever since high school due to his rebellious habits that endangered my family, especially my wife, Safoora. Ever since then, I cut ties with him for life. My life was pretty good alhamdullillah, well, until now. 

 "Paxton, it's Abu Hurairah. I need your help," I said, my voice barely steady. "Halima—she's gone. I don't know where she is and I'm really worried. How do you know her and what the hell is going on?" 

Would he really help me? Why was I reaching out to him anyway?

The silence that followed was unbearable, each second dragging on with a heaviness that seemed almost tangible. The static on the line grew louder, mingling with my mounting anxiety. My heart pounded painfully in my chest, each beat a reminder of my desperation for answers. The quiet was almost more unnerving than any response he might have given.

Finally, Paxton's voice returned, but it was strained, laced with an effort to maintain control that I could hear even through the static. "Look, Hurairah, please don't worry. She's fine. I'll take care of her--"

I lost my temper. "You bastard! First you go for my wife, and now my daughter. That's the lowest someone could go--"

"I'm sorry about Safoora, okay. Back then, I was an idiot--"

"NO, I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS?"

The line started glitching, cutting his words off to pieces. "Look, I don't have much time to talk. Halima... she's my niece. She's fine. She'll be okay, trust me. I'm here for her--"

The words barely made it through the crackling interference, but they were enough to spark a fresh wave of confusion and frustration. "What do you mean? What's happening?" I pressed, my voice cracking with a mix of anger and fear. 

Before Paxton could respond, the static became overwhelming, the sound turning into a loud, garbled mess that swallowed his words. I could barely make out his last few phrases before the line went completely dead. The sudden silence was deafening, the abrupt end of the call leaving me in stunned disbelief.