Charcoal Drawing

The next day after driving Mari and Emily to the airport and waiting for their flight to leave, Jamal headed for Tariq's studio.

When he got there, Tariq was still busy with the drawing so Jamal sat on a worn leather stool in the small art studio, waiting and watching as Tariq dragged a charcoal pencil over the page.

The soft sound of pencil strokes filled the quiet room, and Jamal exhaled slowly, his thoughts drifting to his time with Abigail.

After a moment Jamal went closer and stood behind Tariq, who adding a finishing touch to the outline of Abigail's face, directing him and telling him more details that should be added to the face.

Tariq studied him for a second before returning to his work. "She must be pretty special to you."

"Yeah. She is pretty and special," Jamal admitted, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

Tariq nodded, adjusting the angle of his pencil as he applied Jamal's descriptions. "So, softer around the eyes? And the curve of her lips, you said it was more… subtle?"

Jamal folded his arms, tilting his head as he studied the sketch. "Yeah. She had this quiet, kind of knowing smile. Like she was always thinking about something funny, even when she wasn't saying it out loud. And her eyes are bright like she has stars in them with a hint of mischief."

Tariq smirked, darkening a few lines to bring out more depth. "Sounds like someone you care about a lot."

Jamal exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah." He watched in silence as Tariq's fingers moved skillfully over the paper, adding shade and depth to bring Dawn's face to life.

"You can step back now and let me do my thing if that's all," Tariq said and Jamal returned to his seat while Tariq focused on the drawing.

Another few minutes passed before Tariq sat back, stretching his arms. "That's the best I can do for now with what little information I have," he said as he rose. "What do you think?"

Jamal rose and stepped closer, his gaze locking onto the sketch. Jamal's breath caught in his throat.

Abigail's face stared back at him— her soft eyes, delicate cheekbones, and full lips were captured with stunning accuracy. The way her eyes held a hint of mischief, the slight lift of her brows as if she was about to challenge him on something—it was all there.

His chest tightened at how real she looked, even in charcoal. It was almost unsettling how much life the drawing held and he half expected it to come alive.

"You keep staring at the paper like she's about to come to life," Tariq commented, breaking his thoughts.

Jamal let out a short chuckle. "I guess it just looks too perfect."

Tariq grinned, "I like the look on your face. It's priceless."

"I want it framed," Jamal said as he pulled out his wallet to take out some money, but Tariq waved him off.

"Don't worry about it."

Jamal frowned. "Why not?"

"This will be on the house," Tariq said and Jamal raised a brow.

"Why?"

Tariq shrugged, "Because I say so. You've always brought me your wealthy friends…"

"We had an agreement," Jamal cut in.

"Yeah, I know that. But I didn't realize how special this was. The least I can do is make a drawing of your first love for free."

"Why do you think she's my first love?" Jamal asked, and Tariq grinned.

"That look in your eyes? Yeah. That's a first-love kind of look. You look really smitten. Besides, I know you've never been in a relationship because you're stuck on your childhood sweetheart. This is her, isn't it?"

Jamal shook his head, "Nah. That isn't Dawn."

"It's not?" Tariq asked, glancing at the drawing again like he wasn't the one who drew it. "I guess you finally moved on."

"Yeah," Jamal said with a deep sigh, "This is Abigail," he said, and Tariq smiled.

"Well, that makes this drawing all the more special. If you want it framed you can't get it now. You can come in two days," Tariq said and Jamal nodded.

"Yeah, I know. But can I take picture of it?" Jamal asked, and Tariq nodded.

"Sure," he said, and stepped aside as Jamal took out his phone to take a picture of it.

"I wish you better luck with this one," Tariq said when Jamal was done taking the pictures.

"Thanks," Jamal said as he walked away.

He was going to need all the luck he could get to find Abigail, he thought as he got into his car.

Once he was seated in his car, he first sent the photo to Mari so she would forward to the school and have them put it up on all their social media platforms, and then he set the photo as his wallpaper.

He made up his mind to leave it that way until he meets her again and is able to replace it with a real picture of her.

Jamal went to his office and spent all day buried in work until he received a call from Mari.

"Hey, Jay! I got the picture. She's really pretty. I've sent the picture to the school's social media manager and they promised to get back to me when they get any information on her," she said and Jamal sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck to get rid of the tension there because of how much time he had spent looking down at the plan of the HAJ studios building in Ludus.

"Alright. Let me know if you hear anything."

"Sure. If we find her you owe me," she said, and Jamal smiled.

"What would you want? A car? Money?" He offered.

"How about your name your first daughter after me?" She asked, and Jamal chuckled.

"Never. I'm never doing that. You give me enough headache already. I don't want my daughter named after you," Jamal said and Mari laughed.

"Whatever. I have to go now. Be good."

"You too. And you girls should make sure you focus on your studies. No clubbing or…"

"That's very contrary to my Mom's advice. I love you, too. Byeee!" Mari said before he could finish and blew him a kiss before hanging up.

Jamal chuckled as he set aside his phone, and returned his attention to the building plan.

Away from there, after spending all day in her room thinking about her nightmares and the news she had seen online, Abigail decided that she needed answers.

There was only one person that could give her the answers to her questions, and that person was her father.

She wanted to know about the accident and all she saw in her nightmare.

And she wanted to find out if she really had been born mute of if she used to talk and lost her voice.

Without wasting much time debating on it she picked up her phone and sent her father a text.

[Hello, Dad. When are you coming home? I need to talk to you.]

She paced around her room, trying to organize her thoughts as she waited for his response to come in.

Twenty minutes later her phone buzzed and she quickly looked at his message.

[Come over to the study.]

Her heart skipped a beat as she read his response. She had not expected that he'd be home so soon.

Did he come because of her text or had he been on his way home when he got her text?

Well, none of that was important. All that mattered was that he was here now and she couldn't back down. She needed answers and he was in the best position to give her the answers.

Abigail took a deep breath before walking out of her room to go meet Ryan in the study.