Lynda? Here? No! She's not supposed to be here! How! How did she find us?  I knew it!  Vivian sent her to trail me… God, please tell me it's not true! This is not happening! It can't be happening! I've led them to Akram's place. What have I done?!

Shock glued my feet to the floor, gawking at the girl, Lynda, who seemed like an alien creature right now - A ghost from my past life at the shelter coming back to haunt me.

Akram brushed my shoulder from the back. “Mel, get inside.”

When I didn't react, Akram slid in front of me. He tugged at my arm, urging me to move. ”Come on, Melody!”

I didn't budge. I stared numbly at his creased forehead as he scanned my vacant expression, before I turned my glance to the unexpected visitor across the hall.

“You know her!” Akram's eyes expanded. He whirled around to face Lynda, shielding me behind him. “Excuse me. Who are you?”

“I'm Laila.” Lynda smiled. She extended her hand and stepped toward us. My eyes caught the expensive - looking watch around her wrist. I'd seen it before and it didn't fit the unfortunate runaway teen from the shelter.

Why on earth is she using a different name? What kind of a game is she playing? I knew something about her screamed out-of-place, but no! No way! I won't let her deceive Akram as she deceived me!

“She’s L-Lynda...” My voice trembled, clinging to his arm.

Akram stiffened. The tendons in his arm bulged out as he slowly pushed me back with his body. “How can I help you?”

“Laila Hameed. FBI.”  She stepped forward and lowered her hand, slowly sliding it to the pocket of her blazer.

A jolt of adrenaline coursed through my body and my heart sped up... Flashes of the horrible dream exploded in my head - Vivian in police uniform... A gun... A pool of blood… Akram!

“No!”

In an instant, I leaped in front of Akram and locked my arms around him.

He staggered back, pulling me to his chest until his back bumped against the frame of the door.

Lynda pulled her hands up with a plastic card between her fingers. “It's just my ID.”

I caught a glimpse of the bold capital letters carved onto her identification card. Is it easy to forge FBI IDs?

Akram didn't loosen his hold on me. He turned around swiftly and drove me through the door into his apartment.

“Stay inside,” he demanded.

“No!” I groaned. “I'm not gonna leave you alone with her.”

“I'll be fine. Just wait inside.” He emphasized with a motion of his hand.

“You don't believe her, do you? You can't trust her! You can't!” I gripped his good arm pleadingly.

“I've got to know what she wants,” Akram affirmed, stroking my cold hand on his arm.

“هى فى خطر. لقد جئت لحمايتها."

Lynda interrupted in an exotic, unintelligible language.

I couldn't miss Akram's reaction to her words. His brows flew all the way up. He whipped his head toward her and his eyes narrowed. The intelligent glint in his eyes told me he understood... She had definitely spoken in Arabic.

“What did she say?” I asked in a strangled whisper, choking his arm with both of my hands.

“Let me handle this and I promise I'll tell you later, okay?” He touched my face gently for a split second.

His simple touch sent a calming wave through me. My tense muscles relaxed a little and I nodded reluctantly. Still, I didn't move away from the door, until he pulled it shut from the outside.

With my eyes glued to the peephole, I waited. There seemed to be a serious conversation going on between Akram and Lynda. No... Laila?! A few words filtered through the closed door, but I couldn't understand the language anyway.

My heart thrashed in my ribcage, praying silently that she wouldn't turn into the nightmare that haunted my sleep last night. I trusted Akram's judgement, but I couldn't trust my jinxed existence.

So, now I'm supposed to believe that Lynda's name is Laila, who works for the FBI and speaks Arabic?! Really? But how do I know she's not fooling us? How can I trust her even a fraction? How do I know it's not a fake ID? She could be leading Vivian to us! She could be downstairs, waiting for the cue to attack! God, please let me be wrong!

My hand sailed to my neck as I watched the minimized image of Laila through the lense, shoving her hand in her pocket. She pulled a black object. I exhaled when I recognized a cellphone. She moved her thumb across the screen and placed it on her ear. After mumbling a bunch of indecipherable words, she handed the phone to Akram.

Akram nodded and grabbed it. He checked the screen and put it on his ear. He casually rubbed the back of his neck as he talked and I thought he smiled for a brief second... The way his posture slackened during the call helped me breathe easier than a minute ago.

Trying to tune in to what he was saying, I stuck my ear to the crack of the door. He still spoke in a foreign language. No way for me to comprehend a single word. As if they'd sworn to keep me in the dark.

Akram's face appeared through the peephole, followed by a rap on the door. I jerked the door open before he'd even stopped knocking.

Akram entered and shut the door quietly, giving me a soft smile that didn't touch his eyes.

“What? What does she want? How did she find us? Was she following me?” I spouted my questions, clinging to his arm. “Tell me, Akram, please!”

Akram gently grasped my hand, soothing it in his palm. “It's ok, Mel. She's really with the FBI and she came to help.”

“And you believed her so easily? How do you know it's not an act?” I rasped.  “I-I saw her! I saw her with my own eyes gossiping and laughing with Vivian! She…”

“Sweetheart, “ Akram pressed my hand. “Believe me. She's on our side. I would never risk your safety.”

“But… Akram! I just… I don't want you to get hurt again.” The stupid tears began to sting my eyes.

He stroked my hair with his fingers.  “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” I blurted out without thinking.

A soft smile creased his eyes. He cradled my face in his hand and whispered, “me too.”

He lowered his head to look straight into my eyes. “I need you to go pack your bag right now.”

“What?!”

He grasped my shoulders and his voice changed into an imperative tone. “Get your bag now. Laila’s going to drive us to my parents’ house. You'll be safe there.”

I breathed out, gaping at his serious expression. For some reason, I couldn't argue. I didn't even have the strength to utter a sound.

Thirty minutes later, we were in the backseat of Lynda's car. Akram sat  next to me, locking my arm in his as I  stared blankly at the road.

Lynda drove the car slowly but surely, through the late afternoon rush.  She kept heading north, leaving all the places I knew behind us. All of a sudden, my ability to think re-emerged.

“Akram! We have to go back!” I jerked his arm involuntarily. “The DVD!”

“What DVD?” Laila spoke for the first time since we'd entered the car.

“It’s a DVD from the security camera in the café.” Akram explained.

“It's the only evidence we have against Vivian!” I added in a high pitched tone.

Laila's eyes narrowed in the front mirror. “What's on it exactly?”

Akram and I filled her in as fast as we could, starting with Akram being mugged two months ago because of Vivian, then being attacked by the redhead, and the café break-in this morning. Obviously, it interested her enough that she turned back to drive us to the café.

I volunteered. “It's in Broadway and seventy…”

“It's okay,” she interrupted, smiling through the mirror. “I know the address.”

“Oh!”

“Anyone else knows where that DVD is?” she asked as we pulled over in front of the building.

“Just us and Asha.”

“All clear, then.” She turned around from her driver's seat and smiled. “I'll wait for you here.”

“Let's go.” Akram opened the car door and offered me his hand, giving me no chance to protest.

The police had already gone from the scene when Akram and I approached the building. The yellow tape on the café door brought a guilty lump to my throat. I swallowed it down, biting my lips. What had happened today was the epitome of my miserable reality.

We took the stairs to Mrs. Charan’s apartment per Asha's instructions. It wasn't hard to find Asha's room, what with the Superman crest hanging on the door.

“I'll wait right here,” Akram halted as soon as we entered the well-decorated foyer, his ears slightly flushed. Asha's previous bluntness must've really disturbed him.

Baring a weak smile, I nodded and trod to open Asha's door.

My lips curved automatically as I stepped inside her room. It was, to say the least, eye-catching. Asha's touch was plain as day everywhere, especially all the red and blue decorations, Superman figurines, Henry Cavill posters, bed sheets, pillows, etc. For someone who didn't know her, they'd think it was her ten year old brother's room. My pixie little friend was a huge fangirl… and I missed her so much that my chest hurt.

Finding the DVD was an easy task, since Asha had already shared its location. I fumbled for the disc upside the drawers and plucked it as careful as I could, trying not to smash the photo frames, scattered on top of it.

One of the photos made me choke up. It was a selfie Asha had taken with me weeks ago. I looked like my usual zombie self, and she looked like a brunette Rapunzel as she wrapped her arm around my neck.

God, she printed it! She actually printed it!

My hand sailed to cover my mouth, tears pecking at my eyes. The idea that Ash bothered to frame the picture and place it with her family photos melted me to the core. My life was doing a one-eighty and I didn't even know when I'd be able to see her again.

Sucking in my tears, I dragged my feet outside. Akram was leaning on the door frame with his arms folded. He smiled when he saw me and walked up in my direction. I raised my hand, holding the DVD and attempted a half- smile.

“Is everything all right?” His eyebrows furrowed as he scanned my face closely.

I nodded repeatedly, but didn't speak a word.

“Please, say something,” he pleaded, his eyes concerned.

“I just… Miss Asha.” My voice came out wobbly.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. His fingers swiftly brushed the side of my face. “Everything's going to be okay. I promise.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled. His touch was magically comforting. I just failed to guess how long I'd be able to hold on.

“Here.” Akram handed me the phone he'd given me. I had completely forgotten about it. “There are about thirty missed calls from Asha.”

“Oh, God!” I snatched the cell phone from his hand and dialed Asha's number.

“Oh. My. God! Melo, you dumb blockhead!” Asha squealed. “You flippin’ crazy? How could you do this to me? I've been freaking out for the past... I don't even know how long, thinking of all the horrible things that could've happened to you! My fingers died from calling and texting. Where were you? Are you Okay? Is Akram still with you? Tell me now!”

“Sorry, Ash. The phone was on silent,” I murmured in a thick tone. “I'm OK. We just got the DVD.”

“Oh! Awesome! So, he didn't lock you up! You need to give it to the police at once. That freaky roommate of yours must meet her karma ASAP.”

Akram signaled to me, waving his thumb to the exit and walked up to the door. It was my cue to hang up.

“Ok, Ash, I have to go now. I'll talk to you later.”

I hurried outside, locked the door, and returned the key to its hidden spot. Akram reclaimed my hand and we headed back downstairs.

Laila was outside of the car, leaning on the driver's side door. She went back into  her seat when she saw us coming.

Akram pulled the car door and helped me in. He settled in his seat next to me, while Laila started the car.

“What took you so long?” Laila asked casually.

“We had to call Asha,” Akram's hand drifted to surround mine protectively.

“Can I have the disc, please?” Laila  extended her hand to the back.

Akram picked up the DVD from my frail fingers. My whole body was thrumming. I was too exhausted to raise my own arm.

It was almost sunset when we hit the road. The endless traffic of Manhattan seemed to disperse as the car revved up along the Hudson River, heading to the Interstate highway - The first time for me to leave behind the gray and traumatic New York City.

Lethargy began to take over my body. I struggled to keep my head straight that I instinctively let it rest on Akram's shoulder. He tightened his grasp around my hand and pressed it to his chest.

Laila frowned through the rearview mirror. Her abrupt reaction made me sit upright, recovering my consciousness. I looked around, watching the road, not sure what I was looking for. It was just a gut feeling. A nudge of alarm tingling the back of my neck.

The small nudge grew into a bubble of anxiety when my eyes fell on the black, intimidating car shadowing us. There was no way for me to prove it was actually chasing us, if it hadn't been for one simple fact.

“Akram,” I croaked, throttling his arm. “I think I see Vivian in the car behind us.”

★★★★

Hello dear ones

And FINALLY Melody is back!!

So sorry for the slowness it's really against my will. I mean who wants their amazing readers to be upset with them? I really hope you're not giving up on Melody. She needs your support , especially in this critical point in her life. 😟

This is my first time to present lines in languages other than English... This is going to be your assignment for this chapter. Find the translation XD

I'm going to post it in a comment here....👉

This way you can share the comment to your email maybe? Then copy it from there. Have fun ;)

Much love

Most_bay