Scarred For Life

Chapter 77

*
Some say terror brings an overwhelming sense of confusion, so sharp and painful that the person isn't able to decipher his left from his right. It robs the mind of its tact, and ensnares the person in its claws.

For Afrah, terror brought an overwhelming sense of calm. In the seconds after Adnan spoke to her on the phone, her senses heightened, and something inside of her seemed to snap. She was neither aware of walking out of the hospital, nor was she aware of hopping into her car and driving off. Her heart was racing, and the wailing of a thousand exhausted cars desperately trying to maneuver around each other was lost to her. All she heard was silence, so pure and complete that even her breathing was faint, almost nonexistent.

And then she screamed.

No one heard her, of course. No one heard the anguish in her voice, or the desperation in her every breath. The pain came from within her, seeping out of her pores and wrapping her in a dreadful blanket. Remarkable however, was the fact that the panic in her heart was not directed inwardly, but rather towards her daughter, the innocent soul who did not yet know what grave danger she was in.

She cried, of course. It was only natural. But then she hated herself for crying. Tears never solved any problems. What she needed was action, and she had to look for her. She had to look for Hafsah.

The school principal, Mr Abubakar, nearly lost his mind when Afrah arrived at the school a few minutes later.

"Mrs Yusuf, please calm down and we will get to the bottom of this," he said desperately, trying to get Afrah to slow her rampant breathing.

"Don't tell me to calm down," Afrah said, the words coming out as a croak. "Don't even begin to tell me that. My daughter is missing. Do you understand that? She's missing, and the fact remains that she was taken from here. You were supposed to take care of her, and yet you failed. How am I supposed to calm down?"

"Miss Habiba," he said quickly as the terrified looking woman stepped into the office, "were you not at the gates this afternoon?"

"I was," she replied hesitantly, her gaze darting towards Afrah.

"Well, who came to pick up Hafsah Yusuf?"

"Um, it was her grandfather," she replied. "He said Mr Yusuf had sent him himself."

"And you simply gave her to him?" Afrah asked incredulously. "Some random man waltzed up to your gates and you simply handed my daughter over to him?"

"No, I did no such thing," Miss Habiba said quickly. "I asked him to call Mr Yusuf first, and he did. I spoke to Mr Yusuf myself and he confirmed that he was the one who sent him."

"You spoke to Adnan?"

"Yes," she replied. "I mean, I think I did. I've never spoken extensively with Mr Yusuf, so I don't know if he was the one. But he sounded very convincing. He asked if I was Miss Khadija, and he told me to put Hafsah's books in her bag, which I know Mr Yusuf paid for a week ago."

"Miss Habiba," Mr Abubakar sighed, "you've made a very big mistake here. You should have asked him to call me directly. That is the proper thing to do. Have him call me first, or you come to my office yourself and I will call him to confirm if what the man was saying is true. What do you have to say for yourself now?"

"I'm sorry," she said, falling to her knees. "Please, I'm very sorry. It was a mistake, and it will never happen again."

"Of course it will never happen again because you're fired," he said. "Sorry won't bring back Mrs Yusuf's daughter, nor will it expose the man guilty of kidnapping her."

If Afrah hadn't been looking at him at that exact moment, she wouldn't have noticed it. Even when she did, a part of her troubled mind almost didn't understand it. But then she knew. In her heart of hearts, she knew it. From the smug look in his eyes to the slightest curve of his lips, she knew immediately.