The detective, Inspector Rahmani, listened to my statement without blinking.
“You should have reported him years ago.”
“I did.”
He checked files.
There was no case.
No testimony.
No record under my name.
Of course there wasn’t.
Back then, the shelter hid victims under aliases for protection.
I existed nowhere.
Samir knew that too.
“You’re saying a ghost is hunting you,” Rahmani said.
“No,” I answered. “I’m saying you let him become one.”
For the next three weeks, strange things happened.
A single duck feather on Lina’s school desk.
Bread crumbs on our hotel windowsill.
A black hat hanging on our car mirror.
No one ever saw who left them.
Lina stopped sleeping alone.
Kareem moved into his brother’s house and begged forgiveness daily.
I had no room left in me for anger.
Only fear.
Then Lina disappeared.
It happened at 3:10 p.m.
School dismissal.
Nadia was picking her up.
Lina walked out.
Vanished between gate and curb.
The scream Nadia made on the phone still lives in my bones.
