Bewitched

25

MUMTAZ

The smell of freshly brewed espresso lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of new furniture and... cat litter. I had just finished setting up Mr. Whiskers' litter box in the corner of my new apartment in Milan. The apartment was big but cozy, the kind of place that was perfect for a fresh start. But as I slumped into the couch, exhausted but relieved, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was leaving behind more than just my old life.

Mr. Whiskers curled up by the window, his green eyes watching me with curiosity. The way he twitched his ears and blinked at me—it was like he was expecting me to say something. Maybe he was wondering if I regretted bringing him here, or maybe he was just missing home. I didn't know. And honestly, I didn't want to think about it.

Muntassir's face flashed through my mind, but I pushed it away quickly. I had to. Looking at Mr. Whiskers didn't make it easy, though. He had been Muntassir's cat just as much as mine, maybe even more so. It was strange having this one little piece of him here, in Milan, when I was trying so hard to leave everything behind.

I let out a long sigh and threw my head back against the couch cushions. My father had unblocked my cards—finally—and even paid for the apartment. A lot of things had fallen into place after all the mess back home. Except for Ridwan.

Ridwan hadn't even come outside to say goodbye when I left. The coldness of it still stung. He'd been my closest brother, the one I'd always been able to count on, and now? He couldn't even muster the energy to say goodbye to me. I texted him after I landed in Milan, just a simple message to let him know I'd arrived safely. That was three days ago. No response. Nothing.

I had even asked Badiyya about him, hoping for some scrap of reassurance, but all she said was, "He hasn't mentioned you at all since everything went down." She hadn't seemed surprised by it either, which just made it worse.

"Forget about it," I muttered to myself, trying to shake the weight that sat on my chest. "You're here now. This is your life."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. Mr. Whiskers jumped at the noise, then glared at me as if to say, "Deal with it."

I pushed myself off the couch and opened the door to find Sasha and Piper, standing there with wide grins on their faces.

"Surprise!" Piper squealed, throwing her arms around me before I could even greet her properly.

"You made it!" Sasha shouted, following Piper inside. "We're actually in Milan, all of us!"

I laughed despite myself. Their energy was contagious, and for a moment, I felt the excitement bubbling up inside me again—the excitement that had brought me here in the first place. "I know, right? We're here. Milan, baby!"

Sasha looked around the apartment and clapped her hands. "This place is cute! And you've got it all set up already. I'm impressed, Mumtaz."

"Yeah," I said, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "I'm still getting used to it, but it's starting to feel like home. You guys want to sit down?"

Piper ignored the offer and grabbed my hand instead. "No way, babe. We're not sitting down. We're celebrating! You, me, and Sasha—here in Milan. We need to go out. Have some drinks. Enjoy the city."

I raised an eyebrow. "I literally just finished unpacking. You want to go out now?"

"Um, yes?" Sasha chimed in, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. "You've been here three days and we haven't celebrated yet. It's practically a crime. You can't say no."