My view…
I muttered under my breath, already debating what I should say.
I glanced at Charles. He looked up from his iPad, his eyes meeting mine. Somehow, his gaze reminded me of Adel's—only softer, lacking that sharp edge that made people shiver.
Then I turned back to Adel.
That infuriating expression was still plastered across his face.
"Law is righteous," I began slowly. "There's no doubt about that. It's what gives the weak their rights against the powerful."
I paused.
"It's the one thing that's not supposed to fail."
My mind went blank for a second.
Then—
memories.
Not clear ones. Not whole.
Just fragments.
Vivid flashes, like my mind was trying to protect me from something it refused to fully reveal.
But I could still hear the screams.
Smell the iron scent of blood.
See the crash.
The moment that shaped who I am.
I lifted my gaze and locked eyes with Adel.
"But it does fail," I continued, my voice quieter now. "It starts to rot… because of the people who hold it. People who don't even deserve to speak its name."
My eyes gleamed.
The world around me stilled.
Even him.
And then—
he smiled.
No…
not just a smile.
The widest grin I had ever seen.
Like a child who had just found exactly what he was looking for.
He almost clapped.
I could sense it—the way his hands nearly came together before he stopped himself.
Then he said, smugly,
"I must admit… you've reached my expectations."
Charles chuckled softly."You were right. She's a good fit."
"Told you," Adel replied, a hint of pride slipping into his tone. "My intuition never fails. But genuinely—good job, rascal."
Something in my chest shifted.
For a second… it felt like I finally belonged somewhere.
Yeah, right.
In journalism, we sugarcoat facts for the audience. We follow narratives shaped by people above us.
But here… in this world—
I could speak my mind.
Because here, words weren't just words.They were power.
They shaped the law.They became the final decision.
Charles cleared his throat, snapping me out of my thoughts. His dirty blonde hair caught the dim light, reflecting it softly as he spoke in English, his accent heavy but his words precise.
"I suppose I should introduce myself properly."
He slid his iPad into a backpack that looked more suited for university lectures than crime scenes.
"As you know, I'm Charles. I study law in France."
A student?
Then how was he working with Adel?
He smiled, as if reading my thoughts.
"I can guess your question," he said lightly. "My university is aware that I work with Mr. Adel, so they make certain… exceptions. My professors hold a great deal of respect for him."
I raised an eyebrow.
So Adel wasn't just admired in Egypt—but in France too.
No wonder his ego was as tall as the Eiffel Tower and the pyramids combined.
Still… Charles seemed different. Softer. Grounded.
He extended his hand toward me, and I shook it with a polite smile.
"I think we'll get along," I said, my usual bubbly nature slipping through.
Adel said nothing.
For once, he just watched us—quiet, observant.
"I hope so," Charles replied warmly.
The soft melody playing from the radio filled the space, quietly entertaining both me and Charles.
He spoke first, his curiosity obvious.
"I noticed your earrings," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Aren't they the signature piece of the heroine from that series?"
My eyes lit up instantly.
"Oh my God—do you know the series?"
"Of course," he replied with a small grin. "Who doesn't? Though I must say… the French dub is terrible."
I chuckled at his expression. For a moment, he looked almost like an annoyed rabbit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Adel.
His fingers tapped lightly against the wooden table, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the radio. His gaze wasn't on the surroundings—
it was on us.
"I heard rumors about a new season this August," I added.
Charles' enthusiasm didn't fade.
"We should watch it together," he said. "If I happen to be in Egypt."
"That sounds perfect to me."
I smiled, then glanced toward the counter, noticing plates being rearranged. Our food was probably among them.
"So," I continued, turning back to him, "what made you interested in law?"
Charles straightened slightly, clearing his throat as if preparing to deliver something important.
"Law," he began, "is the word of God. And we—His followers—are meant to uphold it without doubt."
His voice grew steadier.
"But the devil…" he added, "stands on the other side, trying to erode that belief—whispering into the souls of sinners."
I blinked, caught off guard.
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
Adel leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, watching him with a faint, almost proud smile.
It was… oddly soft.
And somehow—
I wanted him to look at me like that too.
"You could be a poet," I said finally.
Charles smiled, a little shy this time.
"I do write poetry… occasionally."
"You should show me sometime," I replied. "I'd love to read it."
"So you like reading?" he asked.
"I don't just like it," I said lightly. "I admire it."
We both laughed softly, the moment settling into something easy… something warm.
A couple walked into the restaurant.
By now, the place had grown a little crowded, filled with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery from nearby tables.
But that couple—
felt off.
The girl flinched at the slightest sound, her eyes darting around as if she didn't belong there… as if she wanted to disappear.
The man beside her, on the other hand, carried himself with too much confidence.
Too much control.
He spoke sharply to the staff, his tone rude despite their polite smiles. And when it came time to order—
he did it for her.
Not even giving her a choice.
No one said a word.
The other customers simply ignored them, as if it had nothing to do with them.
But wasn't that exactly the problem?
Wasn't that what justice stood against?
What were they so afraid of?
If even a few people stood up, he wouldn't stand a chance.
And yet—
silence.
People cared more about protecting their fragile sense of comfort than saving someone right in front of them.
My brows furrowed.
Charles hadn't noticed. He was sitting with his back to them.
But Adel—
he had.
I could tell.
Still… I doubted he would do anything.
Someone like him?Too proud. Too composed.
He wouldn't risk disrupting his perfect image over something like this.
As Charles began to turn his head, and I pushed my chair back, ready to stand—
Adel moved.
Faster than I expected.
Crushing every assumption I had made about him.
He was already ten steps ahead of us.
And then—
his voice cut through the noise.
Calm. Sharp.
"Is this how a man treats a lady?"