The night in the forest quietly said goodbye. The moon, like a pearl in the dark sky, went down, leaving a faint glow. In its place, a pink light spread across the eastern sky. The stars, like diamonds on black cloth, began to disappear one by one.
A warm, humid breeze, common in Thailand, moved through the leaves of the big trees. The forest, once dark, started to show its secrets. Green leaves, wet with morning dew, came out of the darkness. Vines, like green threads, wrapped around old tree trunks. Bright orchids, sitting in the branches, opened their petals to greet the day with color. As the first sunlight came through the trees, birds began to sing.
Last night, Samir and Faisal returned after their meeting with Tanin's family. Samir had a rough time talking to Somchai, but Faisal managed to smooth things over. Even though Faisal knew Somchai wouldn't betray Elara. He knew well that it was only a matter of time before Somchai spilled it all.
Meanwhile, Ibrahim found himself unable to face Ava. He didn't have the heart to see the hurt and anger in her eyes. The entire night passed in a restless haze. His mind spun with ways to mend their broken relationship, but the situation felt hopeless. Anything he might have done before to win Ava back, any sweet words or romantic gestures, would surely ring hollow now. The trust was shattered, and he didn't know how to pick up the pieces.
A fresh scent of sizzling eggs filled the air as Faisal strolled into the kitchen, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He did a double-take. There, spatula in hand, stood Ibrahim, hunched over a sizzling pan. Now that was a sight you didn't see every day.
"Whoa," Faisal chuckled, "Making breakfast? Never thought I'd see the day Ibrahim Ibrahim whips up an omelette." He winked.
Ibrahim shot him a withering glare, the whites of his eyes almost glowing in the morning light. "Ava hasn't eaten anything since last evening." he muttered.
Eyeing the suspicious-looking omelette, Faisal asked, "Mind if I give this a taste test? My stomach's rumbling like a monsoon about to burst."
"This isn't for you," Ibrahim grumbled, brandishing the spatula like a defensive weapon. But Faisal snatched the plate before Ibrahim could react further. Folding the omelette in half, he popped the entire thing into his mouth with a triumphant grin.
He chewed… then paused… then chewed again, his brow furrowing in confusion. A series of expressions flickered across his face – surprise, suspicion, then a slow, dawning horror. His eyes widened like saucers and he gaped at Ibrahim, spoon suspended mid-air, "Ibrahim, did you… by any chance… use sugar instead of salt?"
Ibrahim looked up with a frown. "Sugar? What sugar?" He glanced down at the remaining egg mixture in the bowl, the colour slowly draining from his face. It looked suspiciously like...sugar.
Just then, Samir also wandered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. He took one look at the "omlette" and snorted. "If you feed Ava that thing," he said, pointing at the dubious creation, "she's more likely to throw it at your head than eat it."
Shaking his head, Ibrahim cracked another egg. Sweat beaded on his forehead – the pressure to produce something edible for Ava was clearly getting to him. Samir and Faisal, perched on the breakfast bar, couldn't resist poking fun.
Meanwhile in Ava's room, the silence remained thick. She remained huddled on the floor, the same spot where she'd collapsed the night before. The only difference was the absence of the belt, discarded in a crumpled heap on the floor after a struggle that left angry red welts on her wrists. Her gaze drifted across the worn wooden wall, seeing but not registering anything.
But she wasn't entirely alone. On the bed rested a gun. Ibrahim, in his haste or perhaps his turmoil, had forgotten to reclaim it after throwing it carelessly last night. It had lain there, taunting her, whispering possibilities throughout the lonely hours.
She wondered if Uncle Somchai had learned about what happened last night from Tanin and Lalana. He would be worried sick by now. Perhaps he had informed Elara that Ibrahim had found her. But no one knew where she was. No one knew she was trapped with him in a wooden house deep inside the vast Thai forest. It was a terrifying advantage for Ibrahim.
She couldn't stay here any longer, paralyzed by fear and self-loathing. She had to take action, even if it was a small one. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself to her feet, a surge of pain shooting up her injured knee. Gritting her teeth, she ignored it, the cold anger burning brighter than the physical discomfort. The gun tucked discreetly behind her back.
Logic told her Ibrahim wouldn't have locked the door after their fight. As she suspected, there had been no sound of locking it the night before. She eased the door open a fraction, just enough to peer out into the corridor.
The corridor, bathed in the dim pre-dawn light filtering through the windows, stretched before her. Counting doors – her own, three others, and then the entrance that likely led to the kitchen and dining area.
The sounds of conversation, the murmur of the Rahman brothers and Faisal, drifted from the kitchen area. It was a gamble, but it might be her best chance.
With a silent prayer, she crept towards one of the unoccupied rooms. The door clicked shut behind her. The room was also sparsely furnished, containing only a single bed and a simple dressing table with a few drawers. She began her search for any device to contact her elder brother. Phone or smartwatch anything. Disappointment gnawed at her – the drawers held nothing but forgotten papers and odds and ends. There was literally nothing in the room. No phone. No way to contact Elara or Farah.
She slumped onto the creaky edge of the bed. "Think, Ava, think," she muttered, "You can't be his pawn again. He can't keep playing you like this. Not again."
Just then, her fingers brushed against something unexpected – a slight bulge beneath the thin sheet. Reaching down, her hand grasped the object and pulled it out.
Gasped.....
It was a tab.
Her breath caught in her throat as a wave of questions crashed over her. Why was it hidden here? With trembling fingers, she pressed the power button. The screen flickered to life, but her elation was short-lived. A cruel prompt materialized: "Enter Password."
A groan of frustration escaped her lips. Password. Of course. How could she be so naive? Ibrahim, that cunning snake, wouldn't leave such an open door. Her mind raced, searching for any combination that might unlock the device. Birthdays, anniversaries, even random sequences – nothing worked. Was this a dead end?
Then, another glimmer of an idea pierced through the fog of despair. Many phones and tablets had emergency features – features that didn't require a password. With trembling fingers, she navigated the lock screen, searching for an option, a lifeline. And there it was, nestled amongst the icons – Emergency Call.
A surge of relief washed over her, so intense it almost knocked the wind out of her lungs. Elara! With trembling fingers, she punched in her brother's number. Three rings, then a voice crackled through the speakers before she could say "hello".
"Yes, Agent Faisal, any update?"
And she froze, the tablet clutched so tightly her knuckles turned white. Agent Faisal? Had she misheard? Had she dialed the wrong number? No, the number displayed clearly on the screen – Elara's. But the voice that answered wasn't Elara's. It was clipped, professional.
"Anything sir? Hello? Agent Faisal?... Are you listening? ..... Hello ..... The line isn't working maybe. You can hear me?"
She didn't dare breathe. With a frantic swipe, Ava ended the call and put the tablet in its previous place under the bedsheet.
So it wasn't Ibrahim's. It belonged to Faisal. But what did that mean? What was going on? Faisal was an agent. And he was clearly reporting to someone, giving updates. Updates about what?
Her mind felt like a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding. Leaving the tablet's chilling revelation behind, she stormed out of the room. The clatter of utensils and murmur of conversation guided her towards the kitchen.
There Faisal was meticulously chopping fruit, Samir was slathering jam onto a slice of bread and Ibrahim was still valiantly attempting to create an omelette.
The three men turned towards her. Samir spoke first. "Sister-in-law, just in time! Everything's ready for breakfast. Come, sit down."
But Ava wasn't there for breakfast. In a move that silenced the room, she ripped the gun from behind her back and pointed it, not at any one person in particular, but at the three of them collectively, "Give me my passport. Now. Or I shoot."