Operation: Dard and Devotion

42 | Weeping & Wounded

Thankyou to Noretakes for the exotic-looking chapter art! :D

"Judging from your pictures prior to arriving in Jordan, you weren't wearing abayas or hijabs. Is this change due to Al-Tho'baan's influence on you?"

"Were you forced to cover yourself in their presence?"

"Based on what you have witnessed, is it true that Al-Tho'baan barters girls for bullets and weaponry?"

"Since you have been under their custody for nearly a year, were you able to find out what their motives really are?"

"Do you know of their next targets?"

"What crosses your mind when people say that Al-Tho'baan closely follows Islamic law? Do you agree?"

"Hayat! How does it feel to be back on American soil?"

Flashes from cameras and questions blinded me from all angles. It wasn't until Hydar, my older brother, shielded me from the masses that I even knew my family was at the airport, or at least, he was.

"Everyone, back the hell up!" Hydar bellowed as he wrapped a protective arm over my shoulder to lead me to his van.

Marc and Nat trailed behind, dragging their luggage with them. Hamad, my younger brother, appeared from out of the blue as well, grabbing the handles of my spinner and strode off to Hydar's van. The crowds did not heed Hydar's endless shouting, and they swarmed as close to the vehicle as they possibly could. My brothers motioned for me to go inside first to spare me from directly dealing with intrusive questions, followed by all of the luggage and the others. Once everyone and everything had been situated inside, Hydar had honked the horn more than five times to warn the press to back away, but they still did not care. People dared to pound the glass windows on my side of the van, causing me to flinch. From the way Hydar's jaw clenched in the driver's seat, I could tell he was extremely angry and he normally was a calm person, as far as I could remember. Only when he revved up the engine did the media actually run off for dear life.

The drive was mostly quiet and I was thankful for the silence. Hydar occasionally glanced at me from the rear-view mirror when he thought I wasn't looking, and Hamad would turn his head in my direction every so often as though he couldn't believe I was there. I knew my brothers would never interrogate me with such questions as the journalists had done, but surely they were awfully curious. They just had the decency to wait for when I was ready.

"Your parents didn't want to come to the airport?" Marc asked as he shook his right leg up and down, clearly nerved that he had to be the one to break the stillness.

"They did," Hydar replied as he sped along the highway; I was briefly reminded of Ahsan's reckless driving. "But I told them not to come with us. I had a feeling the press would be there, and it'd be too much for them to handle."

"Oh, true."

"Yeah."

A light drizzle pattered against the windows and that had served as a substitute for conversation for the remainder of the journey. As Hydar drove up to the driveway, my heart clenched tightly into a knot as two vaguely familiar people slowly came into view.

Nat squeezed my arm. "Ready?"

I looked at her briefly before staring back out the window. "I have to be."

She reached over and unlocked the door closest to me. "You got this."

Shakily, I stepped out of the van, gathering the folds of my abaya and gripping them until my knuckles turned white. A surge of a strange feeling flowed within me.