LAYAL:
We don't hate each other, but were far from being amicable as well. That's our relationship, my Mom and I.
My parents divorced five years ago, after my Mom was allegedly caught having an affair with the new bodyguard. She still denied all allegations till date, but you just can't crawl your way out of a video evidence. From the divorce, came the custody battle, and that's when I knew my Dad was done for.
My Mom came from a very Affluent family, with both parents running a Diamond and petrol business. She herself specialized in plastic surgery and manages a private hospital. Meanwhile, my Dad was just a sole heir to a small Electronic company. Both are wealthy, but my Dad's family wasn't wealthy enough to take on my Mom's. With a little help from grandpa, she dug up dirt on Dad, claiming he was suffering from alcohol dependence and mentally unfit to raise a child. When that news got out, all his properties and assets got confiscated, rendering him completely broke.
The court then had no choice but to give my Mom custody. Thankfully, he got his properties and assets back, but it was useless then because a verdict was already given and all the paperwork was finalized. I was going to live with Mom.
My Dad is now happily married to my Mom's step sister. Crazy, I know. Meanwhile, Mom is still a single divorcee. The world works in mysterious ways.
"You're a spitting image of me, poquita." She smiled.
I cleared my throat, and moved away from her caressing fingers.
"Why did you o....
"Take a seat, let's talk over some tea." She interrupted, walking over to the couch, which was annoyingly very comfy.
A maid walked in few minutes later with two mugs of herbal tea, the scent ever so heavenly.
"Thank you." I mouthed, which she returned with a genuine smile. She had nice dentition and was really pretty. Yes, I'm straight.
"I supposed you aren't here just to have a mere chitchat about the weather."
I placed my mug on the table and faced her.
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
She smiled at my response.
"I'd rather you don't. Very well then, let's hear the purpose of this peculiar visit."
"Why did you order Dr.Okçan not to disclose the list of visitors ?"
"I heard you're digging up a rather cold case, so I had to step in. Can't have you going around causing trouble now, can I?"
"How did you know that?" Because last I checked, only Tahira, Ahmed, Salma, and Hella knew. None of them are also close enough to her to rat me out. Could she...no that's impossible.
She shrugged, trying to put on a poker face, but I knew that expression all too well.
"Did you wiretap me?" My question came off more as a statement, because I feel like the answer was way too obvious.
"Maybe." She grinned.
I should've known. Having Jamilah Bashar as a mother also means getting used to being tailed and wiretapped.
"That's invasion of privacy!"
"And if that's what it takes to stop you from being reckless then I'd do it over and over again."
"Why do you even care? I mean unless you're the one responsible for the blog, I see no reason why you should be getting all worked up."
She cackled at my claims, shaking her head.
"And what may be the driving force behind such an atrocious and shallow assumption?" She quizzed, admiring her nails as though they were the most important thing in the world.
Now I understand why Sal said she acts like a Bridgerton character. From the complex diction to the mannerism, everything screams queen Charlotte.
"So many. One being you hated the Perras."
The Bashars and Perras are major business rivals. Precisely, my Mom and Kiarra's.
She raised a finger and curlty shook her head.
"Correction, I detest Monica Perra. I have no business with the little rodents. Except, I do hold a little resentment towards the dead one now because she tried to kill my daughter."
"Her name is Kiarra, not 'the dead one', and she saved my life." I gritted out
She rolled her eyes.
"Of course, we do believe a schizophrenic. You may see yourself out. I'm quite jetlagged and need a power nap." She stood up, yawning.
"Can you at least put off the restriction on the list. I really need it Mom."
"What for?"
"Because I need to know the culprit behind the blog."
"And you believe you can get that from a mere list of names?"
"Not necessarily, but it's still a starting point." I shrugged.
"Who told you that?"
"We all came up with it. Sal, Ahmed and I. "
"Layal, you can't afford to be dense and hang around friends who are twice as much."
"What do you mean?"
She exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"The starting point of the investigation is the blog. Just track the IP address to find the location it was posted from, and that's where you start digging."
"Um, I kinda don't know how that works."
She made it sound like going to buy ice-cream from the convenience store.
"Get somebody to do it then." She retorted.
"I don't know anyone with such skills."
"Then go home and sleep."
"Can you get one of your men to do it?" I pleaded. She can retrieve personal information about anyone within a nick of time.
She stared at me for a while, seemingly contemplating her decision.
"Pleaseee." I dragged, clasping my palms together.
"Will you leave if I do?"
"Yes! right away." I frantically nodded.
"Very well then. I'll contact you in thirty."
"Thank y..
"Leave." She snapped.
"Sheesh, calm down." I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?" She quirked a quizzical brow, as if daring me to repeat.
"oh, I said bye."
"Go away Layal."
I joined my friends at the lobby and recounted my meeting with Mom on the way back to uni.
Since we had thirty minutes before our next lectures, Biostats for Sal and I, then Calculus for Ahmed, we decided to kill time at LOCAL.
"Oh my, I'm so excited and nervous." Sal asserted, repeatedly tapping her legs on the floor. I was equally overwhelmed as I stared at my notification bar, but tried not to show it.
"I wonder who it'll be." Ahmed added.
"What if she doesn't find anything?"
"Don't be a pessimist." They scolded in unison, making me giggle.
We paid for our drinks and walked to class because LOCAL was starting to get crowded. The instructor was already in, scrolling through her phone.
"Good afternoon professor." Sal greeted.
"Afternoon, welcome." She smiled.
"Teacher's pet." I breathed in her ear, making her squeal. The Lecturer's head snapped in our direction, giving us a disapproving look.
"Woah, what a great first impression Sal." I chuckled, earning a death glare.
We sat at the back, with Sal hiding behind her bag, still embarrassed from the situation a few minutes ago. More students started filing in as the instructor switched on the projector.
She introduced herself as Mrs Fatima something before discussing the course outline, methods of assessment, and the usual first-day-of-lecture briefings.
"Today, we'll discuss how to compute the mean, median, and mode of raw data, and next week we'll do group data, tamam." She explained while jotting the topics on the white board.
"How many hours is this class again?" I asked Sal, who was busy scribbling down I-don't-know-what because I could only see three words on the board.
"Four hours."
"What!" I unintentionally exclaimed, drawing unwanted attention.
"Quiet please." The instructor warned.
I removed a scarf from my bag and folded it so it somewhat resembles a pillow because there's no way I'm sitting conscious for four hours. Might as well sleep it off. I inserted my airpods and was about to doze off when I heard a Ping in my ears.
A message!
My heart rate escalated when I saw the name of the sender.
Mom.
My arms were already covered in goosebumps from the snippet of the message I read from the notification alone.
This is what my men found.
I contemplated between fully opening it and waiting until I reach home, but eventually settled for the former.
And what I saw made my blood run cold.
Destination: Famagusta walled city.
Source: Kiarra Perra.