Hooked By The Hijabi

Twelve

Maha

I was trying to play it cool and drop the subject. But Yusha is relentless. And sort of tactless. This isn't a mystery game. Something he can have a shot at resolving.

You'd think ten years is adequate time to get over a tragedy. Time heals pain, they say. But, no. I don't think we heal. I think we just get used to it.

If I dwell on the incident for too long I get choked up. And it's usually ensued by migraine and insomnia.

Now, what? Yusha wants me to go through it all over again?

Huh. Not happening, bruh.

"You think I'm bluffing about investigating the case without some sort of evidence?" He says, as I start to leave to leave.

I swivel around. "If you have evidence then follow the damn procedure. Show them to the police instead of trying to act cool."

"I told you, I don't trust them." He says frostily.

"But you trust me?" I snort.

Yusha shrugs and says, with a vague air of smugness, "I'm a good judge of character."

"Right." I drawl dryly.

"Besides, he was your brother. Who else can I go to who was close to him like you were?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "How do you know I was very close to him?"

"Ah, well... you told me!"

"I did?" I used to be very careful not to boast about the kind of awesome bond Wissam and I shared in case I jinx it.

"Back in middle school! Yeah!"

I resume my seat across from him and sigh resignedly. "Fine. Let's hear what you've got."

"I think you've got to see it rather than hear it."

I frown and Yusha smirks.

Yusha pulls out his phone from his trouser pocket. "Before the... incident," He starts to say while leisurely tapping on his phone, "I didn't know my sister was into photography." The smirk on his faced drops. "That day, I went to borrow a guide book from her room. I had accidentally knocked down a camera from her shelf that I didn't know was kept there. I picked it up and turned it on while fumbling with the buttons, then I came across all these photos. Photos of the sky, of stray cats and dogs, of New York city, of... you."

"Me?" I blink, surprised, "But why would...?

"I know, right? I was just as surprised." Yusha slides his phone across the table toward me.

I pick it up and squint at its screen. I zoom the image.

Sure enough, there was a scrawny girl in a red tee in the pic; although the photographer had captured her side profile, her features look a lot like mine when I was still a preteen. Even her hair is the same blunt cut.

"Swipe to see more." Yusha says.

The second image is of the girl balancing a football on her right shoulder. This time, I have to admit that the girl is me because of the ball. Wissam had drawn a big 'W&M' on it with a red permanent marker. I still have it, although now it's totally deflated.

I clench my teeth, swallow hard, and swipe again.

The third image has Wissam in it. I'm guessing it's from another day because I'm wearing different clothes. The camera had captured the moment Wissam and I were about to high-five.

The fourth pic is of Wissam alone. But, unlike the previous pics, this is a close up. Wissam is looking straight at the camera, a startled expression on his face.