In the Heart of Darkness

Chapter 53: Auction Day

The morning sunlight streamed through the hospital window, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. The faint beeping of the monitors and the distant murmur of nurses created a serene atmosphere. Ibrahim sat up in his hospital bed, his face showing more color than it had in weeks. His recovery had been steady, thanks to the relentless care from his daughter, Sophia. She stood near the window, absently twisting a strand of her dark hair as she stared outside, her mind racing with a thousand worries.

Ibrahim's voice broke through the silence. "Penny for your thoughts, Sophia?" he asked, his tone warm, though tinged with curiosity.

She turned to face him, forcing a smile onto her face. "Just thinking about how peaceful the world looks from up here," she said, though her voice betrayed her unease.

Ibrahim tilted his head, studying her. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" He patted the chair beside his bed. "Come, sit. Talk to me."

Sophia hesitated for a moment before obeying. She sat down and took his hand in hers, her fingers tracing the lines of his palm.

"You're getting better so quickly, Baba. I'm so proud of you," she said softly, her voice cracking just slightly.

"Don't change the subject," Ibrahim said with a gentle chuckle. "What's bothering you, my little lioness?"

Sophia's heart clenched at his affectionate nickname. She wished she could pour her worries out to him, but she couldn't burden him with the weight of Zara's disappearance or the uncertainty surrounding Marcello.

"It's nothing, really," she said, attempting to sound cheerful. "I've just been a little tired from all the running around. But it's worth it. Look at you! You're practically glowing."

Ibrahim laughed, the sound deep and hearty. "Glowing? Now you're exaggerating." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "But thank you. I wouldn't have made it without you. You've been my rock, Sophia."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away quickly. "I learned from the best," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He narrowed his eyes playfully. "Are you crying? Or is that just dust in your eye?"

Sophia laughed, the sound bittersweet. "Maybe it's both."

Ibrahim leaned back against his pillows, sighing contentedly. "You remind me so much of your mother sometimes. The way you take charge, your strength... and that stubbornness. It's uncanny."

Sophia's smile faltered at the mention of her mother. She nodded, trying to steer the conversation back to lighter territory. "Well, I had to inherit something from her, right? Though I think I got my sense of humor from you."

"Oh, absolutely. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise," he teased, making her laugh again.

For a brief moment, the heaviness in her chest lifted. She cherished these moments with her father, where the world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away.

As the clock ticked closer to noon, a nurse entered the room with a cheerful smile.
"Good news, Mr. Ibrahim. The doctor says you're fit to be discharged today."

Ibrahim grinned. "Finally! I was starting to feel like a prisoner in here."

Sophia helped him pack up his belongings, her hands moving mechanically as her mind drifted back to her worries. It had been two days since she last heard from Marcello, and the auction was looming ominously over her. Her heart ached at the thought of Zara, somewhere out there, possibly in danger.

As they walked out of the hospital together, Ibrahim noticed her silence. "Sophia," he said, his voice firm, "I know you're hiding something from me."

She stopped in her tracks, her grip tightening on the handle of his bag. She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Baba, please... let me handle it. You've just started recovering. I don't want you to worry about anything."