The woman's scream sliced through the alley.
For a moment the narrow passage held its breath.
Dust floated in the sunlight between the rusted walls.
Then movement returned.
Jamal's eyes sharpened instantly.
"Don't turn around," he murmured.
Sofia froze beside him, the folded paper still trembling in her hands.
Behind them, hurried footsteps pounded through the maze of alleys.
A woman rushed past, clutching a small child to her chest.
Fear burned in her eyes.
She disappeared around the corner before Sofia could even speak.
Silence returned just as quickly.
Heavy.
Uneasy.
Jamal scanned the rooftops.
"Something spooked her," he said quietly.
Sofia's grip tightened around the paper.
"The map?"
"Maybe."
Or maybe something else entirely.
The small boy who had given them the paper was gone now.
Vanished into the city like smoke.
Only the map remained.
Thin.
Fragile.
Dangerous.
Jamal nodded toward it.
"Let's see what he gave us."
They stepped deeper into the alley's shade.
Sofia carefully unfolded the paper.
The drawing was crude.
Lines scratched by pencil.
Boxes marking buildings.
Narrow paths twisting like veins through the settlement.
But the important parts were obvious.
Six locations circled in dark graphite.
Beside each circle were small numbers.
Jamal leaned closer.
"Interesting."
Sofia frowned.
"What do the numbers mean?"
He tapped the first circle with his finger.
"Probably delivery counts."
Her eyes widened.
"Deliveries?"
He nodded slowly.
"People here don't trust official records. So sometimes they keep their own."
A shadow passed over Sofia's thoughts.
Private ledgers.
Secret maps.
Children acting as messengers.
This world had layers she had never imagined.
Her finger moved to the closest circle.
"This one… it's nearby."
Jamal studied the path.
"Five minutes."
He folded the map again.
"Let's walk."
The path twisted through narrow corridors of corrugated metal and wood.
The air smelled of smoke and oil.
Children watched them pass from doorways.
Some cautious.
Most silent.
Sofia felt the weight of the notebook in her bag.
And the weight of something else.
Attention.
Not open stares.
Not obvious suspicion.
Just small glances that lasted a little too long.
Jamal noticed it too.
"Walk naturally," he said quietly.
"People feel tension."
She nodded.
They turned another corner.
Then another.
Soon the alley widened into a small open yard surrounded by fencing.
Sofia stopped walking.
A truck stood inside the yard.
White.
Dust-covered.
Familiar.
Her breath caught.
"That's one of ours."
Jamal followed her gaze.
The blue logo on the truck door confirmed it.
Nabad Hope.
Sofia stepped closer to the fence.
"That truck delivered supplies last week," she said slowly.
"At least according to the report."
The truck's rear doors hung open.
Jamal approached carefully.
Inside the cargo area…
Nothing.
Empty.
Completely empty.
No sacks.
No boxes.
No equipment.
Just dust and a few scraps of torn cardboard.
Sofia's stomach tightened.
"This can't be right."
Jamal crouched near the tire tracks.
His fingers brushed the ground.
Then he stood.
"This truck hasn't moved in days."
Sofia stared at him.
"But the delivery log"
"I know what it says."
He nodded toward the map.
Sofia unfolded it again.
Beside this location the number was written clearly.
40.
Her throat went dry
"Forty deliveries?"
Jamal exhaled slowly.
"Forty recorded deliveries."
She looked again at the empty truck.
"At least on paper."
A cold realization crept into her mind.
"So the supplies…"
"Went somewhere else."
A narrow path ran behind the yard.
Hidden from the main alley.
Jamal followed it without hesitation.
Sofia stayed close.
The area grew quieter.
Fewer houses.
More metal sheds.
Storage spaces.
Places not meant for daily life.
Places meant for keeping things.
Or hiding them.
Jamal suddenly raised his hand.
Stop.
Sofia froze beside him.
Voices drifted from one of the nearby sheds.
Two men.
Talking quietly.
"…just update the numbers," one said.
"Head office won't question it."
The second man laughed softly.
"They never do."
Sofia leaned closer to the wall.
Her pulse thundered.
The first man continued.
"Next shipment arrives tomorrow. We record it tonight so the system stays consistent."
"And the old stock?"
"Already moved."
"Where?"
"The usual place."
Sofia felt Jamal's hand tighten slightly on her arm.
Proof.
Real proof.
Not just whispers.
Not just suspicion.
Actual voices confirming it.
The two men stepped out of the shed.
Sofia and Jamal stayed hidden in the shadows.
One of the men carried a clipboard.
The other held a radio.
They walked past without noticing.
Their conversation faded down the alley.
Sofia exhaled slowly.
"They're falsifying the logs."
Jamal nodded.
"Yes."
Her mind raced.
"This could expose everything."
"Maybe."
She blinked.
"Maybe?"
Jamal pointed toward the shed the men had left.
"Evidence disappears."
His voice was calm.
"But storage doesn't."
Sofia understood immediately.
"You think the supplies are still here."
"Some of them."
He stepped toward the door.
"Let's find out."
The shed door creaked when Jamal pushed it open.
Warm air rolled out.
The smell of grain.
Plastic.
Cardboard.
Sofia stepped inside.
And froze.
Stacks of food sacks lined the walls.
Boxes of nutritional supplements.
Medical kits.
Water purification tablets.
Every crate stamped with the same blue logo.
Nabad Hope.
Her chest tightened.
"This is enough to supply the entire center for months."
Jamal walked between the stacks slowly.
"And yet mothers say the food runs out."
Sofia touched one of the crates.
The printed label showed a delivery date.
Two weeks ago.
Another crate beside it.
Last month.
Another.
Three months.
None of them opened.
None of them distributed.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
"They're hoarding it."
"Or redirecting it."
Jamal stopped near the back wall.
"There's more."
Sofia followed his gaze.
A metal door.
Different from the others.
Heavier.
Locked.
Jamal pulled on the handle.
It didn't move.
But the frame around it looked bent.
Someone had forced it open before.
He pulled harder.
The lock snapped with a sharp crack.
The door swung inward.
And Sofia's breath left her lungs.
Inside was not another storage room.
It was an office.
Filing cabinets.
Two computers.
Stacks of paperwork.
And a large whiteboard covering the far wall.
Covered in numbers.
Transfer records.
Shipment totals.
Donation figures.
Far larger than anything she had seen in the official reports.
Her eyes scanned the board slowly.
Millions of dollars.
Allocation changes.
Supply rerouting.
Hidden shipment codes.
Jamal stepped beside her.
"This isn't mismanagement," he said quietly.
"This is a system."
Sofia looked at the top of the board.
Where the names were written.
First name.
Michael Shikuku.
Her stomach sank.
Second name.
Dr. Robert.
Larger.
Underlined.
And suddenly the problem wasn't just one corrupted report.
It was the entire operation.
A quiet network hiding inside humanitarian work.
Sofia stepped closer to the board.
Trying to understand the pattern.
Then she heard something.
Outside.
Footsteps.
Approaching the shed.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Jamal turned toward the door.
Eyes sharp.
Someone had come back.
And this time…
They were stopping right outside.