20-year-old university student Maliyah Tijjani is independent and fierce, yet damaged. She's been damaged for many years of her life and she is trying her best not to bring her past traumas into her new profound freedom. She avoids dating to maintai...
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"How hard is it for you people to do your fucking jobs?" I gritted into the phone.
"Mr. Ryad, with the commotion from the press and local authorities, we are trying to do everything as discretely we can-"
"Well do more," I snapped. "It's been exactly a week since she's been taken, you people are called private investigators for a reason. You investigate in private. Do you at least have any leads?"
"We've checked with teachers, classmates, and anybody she might have come across from her entire educational background dating back to primary school, swept through the entire guest list from that night, crossed referenced all of them with-"
"Do you have any leads?" I gritted through my teeth.
"No, but the unit is working-"
"Yea I've heard enough. You got three days to come up with something, or you're all fired," I angrily pressed the button on my steering wheel, and hanging up the phone.
I pressed my foot on the gas, and the car began accelerating.
I was frustrated.
Maliyah was gorgeous and incredible, and I didn't realize how much I needed and enjoyed her until she was gone. Business matters aside, she was a person with a contagious smile, and I missed her smile.
I thought of our first night together at the rooftop pool, and how I first heard her laugh when I picked her up and threw her in the pool. It was like music to my ears, and I stopped and smiled off into the memory.
This was the one thing I had no power over. I couldn't do anything. No matter how much money I spent on these investigators, it wasn't finding Maliyah any faster. I would pay her ransom in a heartbeat, no matter the price.
Maliyah was priceless, but whatever amount her kidnappers wanted, I would pay.
Yet I didn't know who took her in the first place or how to get in contact with them. They killed that poor girl... she was so young. I remember seeing her with Maliyah at the airport, and she seemed like an amazing person.
I hated the evil in this world.
It was stressful and frustrating.
Just then, another incoming call transitioned onto the screen of the dashboard. I groaned in annoyance at the sight of the European area code and answered the phone.
"Oui?" I said.
"Bonjour monsieur, est-ce je parle avec Bilal Ryad?" the lady spoke. Hello sir, am I speaking with Bilal Ryad?
"Oui, c'est lui. C'est qui and comment je peux te aider?" I replied. Yes, this is him. Who is this and how may I help you?
"C'est Docteure Sow. Je suis avec le Lyon Memorial Cancer Institute, je vous appelle pour vous informer que vous avez manqué votre consultation de jeudi avec l'oncologue," she said. This is Dr. Sow. I am with the Lyon Memorial Cancer Institute, I'm calling to inform you that you missed your Thursday consultation with the oncologist,
