Three months later
I closed the hood of the car after checking the oil level, signaling to Chris that it was good to go. He gave me a thumbs-up before heading upstairs to inform Miguel that he could contact the owner.
I wiped my hands with a rag, then tossed it onto my workbench before sitting down on my stool. I picked up the carburetor again, its jets clogged, and resumed cleaning it. I had to finish this before tonight.
I sighed for what felt like the hundredth time today. A heaviness had been pressing against my chest since morning, pissing me off more than anything else. I was cynical, bitter, blunt, even abrasive but not pessimistic. So I had no clue what the hell was wrong with me.
My phone suddenly rang on the desk behind me. I pushed myself back on my rolling stool and grabbed it. I answered, not recognizing the number on the screen, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear as I leaned over my workbench again.
"Miss Amrani Sanaa?" a female voice asked on the other end. I frowned, straightening as I took the phone in my hand.
"Yes."
"This is Mrs. Wayer, Elio's teacher at the daycare," she introduced herself. I immediately stood up, unease creeping in. "I'm calling because you're the second person listed as a contact. We've tried reaching Miss Hagen several times, but without success, and I won't be able to keep Elio much longer."
I glanced at my watch, my bad feeling growing stronger with every passing second. It was almost five p.m. What the hell was Elio still doing at daycare? Alma always picked him up before four.
"I—I'm coming," I said before hanging up, already rushing toward the exit as I grabbed my jacket from the rack.
"Sanaa!" Chris called after me, but I ignored him, climbing into my pickup while dialling Alma's number. It rang several times before going to voicemail.
"What the fuck…" I muttered, running a hand through my hair as a thousand scenarios flooded my mind.
About twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of the daycare and stepped out, wiping my grease-stained hands on my overalls. I pushed the door open in a hurry, and the weight on my chest eased slightly when my eyes landed on Elio, perfectly fine, playing with his teacher. She spotted me quickly and stood to meet me.
"You must be Miss Amrani? I'm the one who called. I'm sorry to have bothered you," she said. I shook my head, my gaze never leaving Elio. He looked up, his eyes landing on me. He blinked for a moment before recognizing me, then burst into tears as he toddled toward me.
"Nana… na… na…" he cried. His teacher opened the gate separating us, and Elio wrapped his tiny arms around my leg, clinging tightly. And I didn't know what to do.
"Do you know where Miss Hagen is?" Mrs. Wayer asked, handing me Elio's things and pulling my attention away. I looked at her, not knowing what to say either because I had no damn idea.
"No," I said, taking his jacket and backpack. I crouched down to help him put his jacket on as he kept crying, tears soaking his round cheeks. "I'll tell her to call you," I added simply, nodding before taking Elio's hand and leading him out, my heart pounding wildly. I quickly strapped him into the back seat, lacking a proper car seat, and drove home.
My phone rang several times on the way, but none of the calls were from Alma. The guys were probably worried about my sudden departure. By the time I parked in our building's private lot, Elio had calmed down and was dozing against his seat. I lifted him into my arms and headed toward the elevator, my eyes scanning the parking lot for Alma's car, but it wasn't there.
Once on our floor, I unlocked the door and stepped into an apartment swallowed by silence. With Elio still in my arms, I checked the living room, then the kitchen, then every bedroom, and finally the bathroom. No sign of her.
I laid Elio down in his crib, slipping off his jacket and covering him with his blanket, the blue one he couldn't sleep without. I closed his door behind me and pulled out my phone to call Alma again.
No answer. Again
"Where the hell are you?" I muttered, starting to pace. Where could she have gone? A doctor's appointment for her headache? A walk in the park that had gone wrong? I exhaled sharply before making another call, one I never thought I'd make on my own.
"Sanaa? Is everything okay?" Sarah asked, concern evident from the second ring and I quickly explained the situation.
"Alright, I'll handle it. I'll call you as soon as I know something," she said before hanging up. I sank onto the couch, resting my clenched fists on my knees as I closed my eyes. I inhaled slowly, then exhaled. I needed to calm down. I needed control.
Calm isn't something you find. It's something you choose.
My mentor's voice echoed in my mind, and I clung to it, pushing everything else away, pushing away emotion, pushing away panic… pushing away fear.
I inhaled again. By the time I exhaled, my hands had stopped trembling. I unclenched my fists and opened my eyes. I was calm again. Control had returned.
It had to. If Alma was in danger, I needed to act and nothing good would come from panic.
The next hour felt like an eternity. I didn't move, my phone resting on the coffee table in front of me, waiting for Sarah's call. I ignored every other one, keeping one ear tuned toward the hallway in case Elio woke up. I hoped he wouldn't. He'd be looking for his mother.
My phone rang again, and I lunged for it when I saw Sarah's name.
"Tell me! Did Massimo find her? Where is she?" I demanded, rising from the couch. I heard a long sigh on the other end. It wasn't Sarah. It was a man. A man I knew by heart. A man who had taught me everything I knew, who had shaped me into the woman I was today, despite our differences, despite my stubborn refusal to accept him.
And if he was the one calling…then it wasn't good.
My throat tightened as my grip on the phone strengthened, my eyes landing on a photo of Alma and me at the beach, both of us smiling like idiots, happy.
"Tell me," I whispered, my voice trembling as I held my breath.
"I'm sorry, Sanaa," his deep voice said. "She collapsed while grocery shopping this afternoon."
My hand rose to my throat.
"She had an aneurysm. The doctors couldn't do anything."
My legs gave way.
"No," I breathed, shaking my head. "She can't… she… Elio, there's Elio!" I choked out, refusing to accept his words.
"I taught you to control every emotion, Sanaa," he continued quietly, "but not grief." My knees hit the floor. "Because grief isn't something you control. It's something you live through until it fades. So feel it… and then rise again, my Sanaa." The line went dead.
My phone slipped from my hand as I pulled my knees to my chest. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. A sob lodged itself in my throat as I pressed my face into my jeans. It had been so long since I had cried. So long that it felt foreign. But I couldn't stop. Memories flooded my mind.
The first moment we met at our graduation ceremony. Our first apartment, where we shared the same bed. The day Elio was born. All those years… she had been the one person who accepted me as I was. The one who endured my moods, my distance. The only one who had chosen to be my friend in this cursed world.
I broke.
Sobs tore through me, my breath catching as I collapsed onto the floor, curling in on myself. The sun slowly set beyond the horizon, plunging the apartment into darkness. Just like my world.
The sun had set…and it would never rise again.