Wounded- Chapter Thirty Five

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Edited:

(Please check out my other book, "Her Muslim Driver.")

Published: Friday, November 27th 2015 7:53 am

Jafar:

         Flashback:

         I don't remember how old I was at the time, or why I remember this detail for detail, but it happened. I'm sure of it now. It was a couple weeks before my birthday and I was so excited that I couldn't sleep. Abu just arrived back from his work trip and was working late in his office when I came walking down the stairs, my blue power ranger in hand. At that age, I remember taking it everywhere and being obsessed with the show. A bunch of colorful ninjas fighting crime. Who wouldn't love that as a kid?

         "Abu?"

          He looked up at me with a frown on his face, papers in hand.

         "Jafar," He put the papers down and motioned me forward. I complied. "It's late, why aren't you asleep?"

         I remember shrugging my small shoulders at him. "I can't sleep."

       "Why not?"

         I shrugged again. "Just because. Ummi already tucked me in, but can you read me another power ranger story?"

        He stood up and came over to me and bent down, kneeling eye level with me. "Okay, son. Just one."

       "Okay," I smiled and walked out of the room and towards the steps, then turned back around when I remembered to ask him something. I wanted him to know which book to bring up. When I made it back down and to the office door, he was talking to someone on the phone.

         "We already discussed this," He ran a hand over his face in frustration, furiously typing on his computer. "No, I told you that already. I also don't have anything to do with it. You kept it from me, Ariana."

         And by that time I heard movement upstairs and ran so Ummi wouldn't catch me awake.

End of flashback:

          That's all I remember, but when Luca told me his mothers name, I have no doubt that my father knows her. Very well. By the time I made it back up to his room to ask him about it, he was sitting up in his bed, watching whatever was on TV. At my entrance, he looked up.

        "Who was this mystery person? I was sure I payed off all my hit men," He cracked a smile at his joke, but I just stood there, staring at him, preparing how I was going to ask him this when I felt I already knew the answer. Well, partly.

          "What's wrong? You look like you've been given a death threat or something. Why--"

         "Who's, Ariana?" I cut him off, pursing my lips for as I awaited an answer. He froze at her name and sighed.

         "How did she come up? Was that her who's downstairs?"

          "No," I shook my head and sat at my previous chair. "But her son, Luca, was."

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