Salaam readers, 

This story is written as a #nomorebullying project and shows the darker side of society and how a woman overcomes it.

I hope to receive as much support you bestowed on my previous book InshaAllah.

***Sad***

One of the officers spoke to Preetham in exasperated tone, 'We are sorry. The team wasn't able to arrest Rosalie. I am sure she knew we were going and therefore planned a perfect escape, even her belongings are gone.'

Preetham was apoplectic. 'Is she trying to play with the law? With the officers? Well, she will play.'

The discussion went on for sometime and then finally Hamilton spoke up, 'I still don't think she is a criminal.'

'We have had enough of your opinion, Hamilton. It is because of your carelessness that she was able to escape.'

'But how can you be sure that she has left the town?'

'I have no time to waste on your irrelevant questions, Hamilton. You will search her within the next thirty six hours and report to me directly.' He screeched furiously.

'But ---'

Preetham kuar held up his hand, gesturing Hamilton to stop speaking, 'Have I made myself clear.'

Hamilton nodded his head and before he could speak further, Preetham kuar pointed him the door, 'You may leave.'

Hamilton got up from his place and made his way towards his car which was parked outside the building.

With every step he took, his mind planned his next move.

Even though he did not doubt Rosalie's intentions, he couldn't help but wonder her disappearance in such a fashion.

If she was involved in all this then it would break his heart.

His heart?

Hamilton frowned internally, he must have knocked his head really hard when he had fainted on her doorsteps.

He exhaled a deep breath before he put the key in the ignition slot and the car roared back to life.

He would find her even she was hiding in Mars.

__________

Walking around the apartment, Hamilton ran a hand through his long blond hair, which was almost reaching his shoulders now, as he hadn't found the time to trim it short.

The detective continued to survey the scene in front of him and let out a frustrated sigh.

Anger pulsated through his pectoral muscles and his jaw tightened.

Where in the name of thy lord had Rosalie vanished?

And why?

He went about rummaging the apartment, in hopes of finding some clue.

Her uncle had laughed out loud when they had told him that his neice had gone missing. 'Hadn't I informed you that she is the mastermind behind our dealings. Well, you'll never be able to find her again. I hope she did not run away with her fancy new boyfriend.' He had then gone into fits of laughter.

Hamilton had punched him hard on his mouth and was pleased to see the evil smile disappear from his face, he then made a mental note to visit Rosalie's house to dig the truth.

He snorted as he looked around the house, it barely contained any furniture.

At whatever little pieces were available, looked as old as time itself.

But he would have to congratulate Rosalie's efforts to have kept such an old house so wonderfully clean.

He sat on one of the wooden chair which was sitting alone at the corner. It creaked loudly as it accommodated his weight and Hamilton was sure that if the furniture could speak then it would have a story to tell.

The kitchen had only a handful number of vessels, but the sweet aroma of the chicken dish was unmistakable and he was sure that Rosalie must have cooked it for dinner the previous night.

He felt a small urge to taste her cooking and went towards the source, but shook his head as he neared it.

What was wrong with him?

He hadn't come here to waste time. He definitely had more important things to do than sit in this shabby little apartment and eat leftovers.

If he failed to report within the next thirty six hours then he would loose his job and he couldn't allow that to turn unto reality.

His job was his passion. He loved taking risks, playing with fire. It gave him immense satisfaction when he solved a case.

It never seized to amaze him that there wasn't anything called a perfect crime. Every criminal did some foolishness in their haste and left behind a case for the detectives to solve.

It had taken him years to reach his position and he wasn't ready to let go of it for some random girl.

He searched every nook and corner of the house but found nothing that belonged to Rosalie.

The officers had already found the hidden drugs and it was already disposed off and therefore the cupboards contained only clothing and a few albums.

He decided to leave and made his way towards the main door, but on instinct, he retrieved his steps and decided to take a look at the photos present in the album.

There were a lot of photos of Rosalie's childhood but all of them were captured in foster homes and she looked sad in most of them. Her lovely greenish blue eyes looked lost and moist.

And the photos which were taken in her later years did nothing to hide the tears in her eyes. There were bruises and hit marks in her hands and legs.

It was pure torture to witness such a thing.

Hamilton couldn't look at them anymore, therefore, he threw them across the bed.

If there was one thing that Hamilton was sure of, that was, Rosalie had been an unhappy child and he promised to himself that he would learn the reasons for it.

As Hamilton leafed through the other album he found a few photos of Rosalie with a bright looking Indian girl. They seemed to share a good bond and Rosalie actually smiled in those photos.

He picked few of the photos and slipped them inside his coat and left the house humming to himself.

If he was successful in searching that girl then he would find Rosalie with ease.

He let out a belch and took the steps as fast as he plausibly could.

He made a few important phone calls and passed the photos to few of his detective friends and then made his way home, If he could call those four walls as home.

As soon as he reached his place, he threw his coat on the couch and went to have a long cold shower so that he could think more clearly.

He had to admit that he had lost more sleep then any man possibly could in the last few months, and it had begun to take toll.

After which he cooked a luxuriant meal of pasta and chicken which helped him calm down to certain extent. But sleep wasn't anywhere near him.

His eyes had no plans on resting anytime soon, so he decided to watch some Tv to take his mind of her, but finally when his eyes drifted off to sleep, all his dreams were filled with Rosalie.

He woke up and began searching the internet in hopes of finding that particular girl in some social media.

At three in the night Hamilton received a call saying that they had found the girl. She was named pooja and had agreed to give them the adress to which she had parceled Rosalie's paintings.

Hamilton managed a smile, 'Thank you. Thank you so much.'

Now, Hamilton would travel all the way, just to know the reason for Rosalie to have had pulled such a stupid stunt.

He had a deep feeling that something in his life had changed, but quite unable to decipher it.

Never in his entire life did he worry about another person, or wondered what they did during the day but today he had woken up with a inexplicable need to know everything about Rosalie.

He would just have to distract his mind for a few more hours.

It took him only a few minutes to get changed into his favorite black coloured suit and matching pair of trousers.

He took a deep sigh and shouted at no one in particular,

'Rosalie, I'm coming.'