"Will you tell me why you're haunting me?" Ian asked Clara, who sat by him on the side of the bed.
She looked very radiant and clean. She brushed her fingers through her caramel locks, then asked, "Don't you remember me?" Her voice calm and melodious.
"I do," he replied, "I remember you first showed up in London the night my father died. You were there at the funeral and then when I went back to his house," he paused then added, "You were very nasty I must say."
"Was I?" She didn't turn to make eye contact even though he was looking at her. "But that was not when we first met."
"No?"
"We met early in 2005," she said, not ceasing to repeatedly brush her fingers through her hair, "You said you loved me."
"I did?"
"I suppose you swear it to every pretty girl you meet."
He looked down at his knees. His eyes crinkled and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. "I suppose I did," he confessed.
Clara stopped playing with her hair. Tight-lipped, she turned to study him. She faintly shook her head then said, "And you are very proud of your mischief."
With downcast eyes and a puckered forehead, Ian stared at her, half smiling.
"I suppose I caused you so much pain," he finally said, the smile fully abandoning his lips.
"I'm not sure pain is the correct word for what you'd caused many young women."
He looked back at his legs and began to fiddle with a thread that popped out of the seam of his pants' inner thigh. He sighed loudly then looked heavenward, unable to find the right words.
Clara turned to look in the opposite direction. "It's too late for anything now," she said.
He turned to look in her direction but she was gone.
***
"What is it?" Ada asked before she turned to look to her left, speculating that Amal was staring at a ghost at the opposite side of the bed. As she did so, she realized her head felt lighter than usual. She ran her fingers through her hair and realized that a few inches below her shoulder, there was nothing but void. Jaw-slacked and wide-eyed, she turned to look at Amal.
Tears began to well up in her eyes. "My hair!"
Amal got up and sat beside Ada. "It's okay, love," she said as she rubbed her back, "Remember, hair grows back."
The four nasty teenagers appeared at the end of Ada's bed, laughing like horrid witches as one of them held the long, dark braid they'd chopped off Ada's head.
"Go away or I will tell Madam Lina about this and make sure she flogs you and shaves your nasty heads," Amal snarled at the four rascals, who dispersed and were out of sight within less than a second.
She continued to rub Ada's back as she said, "They did it to several other girls when they first arrived here. I think it's a way to frighten newcomers and show some power."
Ada burst into a fit of laughter then wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. "I am so silly! Can't believe I'm crying over hair at a time like this," she said.
"It's the accumulation of bad events, and this was the straw that broke the camel's back."
And I miss Ian, Ada thought.
"Come with me," Amal said, getting up and sliding her feet into her fuchsia flip-flops, "I'll give you a free haircut."
"Any idea where my clothes are?" Ada asked.
"They were hung to dry. I'll go bring them."
Within half an hour, Ada was back into her clothes and hijab. Amal showed her into a small room under a staircase where she kept her hairstyling tools. The place was more of a mini hair salon with a lightbulb dangling from the ceiling, a dressing table surrounded by small bulbs, and a small cushioned chair. She soaked Ada's hair in water, wrapped a nylon cutting cape around her, tied it at the neck and began cutting her hair.
A wide smile curved Ada's lips and she raised her brows. "Look at you!" she said in a high-pitched tone, "Quite a professional! Can't wait to see my new haircut."
"I used to work at a beauty shop in Homs before I was kidnapped and brought here in 2012," she said, forcing her lips into a shallow smile.
"I'm so sorry about that," Ada said in a low, reluctant tone.
"It was a hot summer day, but I remember seeing a few clouds in the sky and my colleague said these were the result of people's evaporated sweat," Amal continued, smiling at the memory with glassy eyes, "The guy I loved was to visit us with his parents at night to ask for my hand in marriage," she sighed, "his name was Rami. I wonder if he's married now—or maybe dead? He was a soldier."
"I'm sure he's trying his best to find you," Ada said, her voice low and soft.
Amal smiled at how this stranger was trying to get her hopes up. "That day, I left work early—at around five. I went to a patisserie to buy something for the guests and when I stepped out with my box of fruit tarts and eclairs, I was violently pushed into the back of a van and my mouth was taped shut. All I remember after that was waking up here."
"Did they ask your family for a ransom?"
"No. They found me resourceful and believed keeping me here would be a more fruitful investment," she paused, stopped working on Ada's hair then added, "My job here is to entertain men—if I were to put it nicely."
Ada took a deep breath through her nose then exhaled slowly through her mouth. "How can I help?" She asked, knowing she most likely couldn't because she herself needed help.
"You actually can help me," Amal replied, now styling Ada's hair with a hair iron, "I am an expert eavesdropper—but of course I never let anyone know or else I'm dead. I learned you are to be taken back to Syria either today or tomorrow, but I don't know where to. I will give you a number to call if you were in a safe place, and they will take it from there."
"I promise I'll try my best."
***
"Have you slept well?" Amer asked as he entered the room in which Ian spent the night.
Ian sat on the side of the bed, bent forward so that his forehead rested on his right hand with his elbow pressed against his thigh. He looked up at Amer, bleary-eyed and pallid.
Amer frowned. "You look like a zombie," he said.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should've showered, eaten and slept."
Ian shrugged and a lopsided grin curved his lips, "But I didn't. Care to know why?"
Amer tilted his head as he studied Ian's bloodshot panda eyes and his corpse-like complexion. His hair was lank and oily, falling around his face and over his knit brows.
"I need blood," he hissed from between clenched teeth and tight lips, "My throat is cracking and cold... I need blood."
"Blood?"
"Garrick's blood," Ian suddenly barked and a vein bulged in his forehead.
Amer swallowed. "They'll be taking you on another trip soon. You sure you don't want to at least use the washroom? At least splash some water on your face."
"Trip?" Ian scoffed at him. He stared for a long second then nodded faintly, "Good idea." He got up and began to walk slowly and unsteadily towards the bathroom.
"Do you need help?" Amer asked, watching Ian stagger like an intoxicated man.
Ian snorted with laughter. "God!" He exclaimed as he continued to laugh loudly, "You're mad!"
Amer furrowed a quizzical brow and watched Ian stagger into the bathroom, leaving the door open, so he stepped forward and closed it.
Four horrid men exuding a strong stench of liquor and weed combined with body odors dashed into the room, not minding Amer's presence.
"He is using the washroom," he said in a stern and loud voice.
One of the horrid men attempted to break into the bathroom but Amer blocked his way and strictly said, "He will come with you once he's done."
The horrid man eyed Amer angrily before he backed off. The other three stood nearby, fidgeting, complaining and making irrelevant jokes.
Ian opened the bathroom's door and was immediately dragged by four goblins. His mind was blank, unable to work out what was happening, but he was relieved he didn't need to use much energy as they hauled him through corridors, down staircases and out of the villa into the humid open air then finally into the back of a van.
He lay on his back like a corpse, staring at the darkness engulfing him and listening to an unfriendly discussion between two nasty voices—one of a woman's and the other of a man's.
"Told you he was a hopeless case," the man said.
"Maybe he should have stayed dead," the woman joined in.
"He will die anyway if he doesn't drink some blood."
This seemed to go on forever until, confused and exhausted, Ian crashed out.
***
Thank you so much for reading Chapter 34!
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Chapter 35 will be online within a week :D