CHAPTER:18

Finding her

The sky above the pine-covered ridge was bruised with grey as the wind turned cold, yet Dee's mind was far from the crackling campfire in front of her. She hadn't said a word in twenty minutes—her eyes fixed on the dead screen of her phone. No messages. No calls. Nothing from Ayat. And it wasn't normal. It wasn't just silence; it was a scream disguised as calm. Something in her chest twisted. She stood suddenly, grabbing her jacket.

"We need to go back," she said, voice tight and shaking.

Rayyan looked up from the logs he was arranging. "What? We just got here."

"I don't care." Her voice cut like glass. "Ayat hasn't called. Not even a text. Something's wrong."

He narrowed his eyes. "Dee, we came out here to get away—"

"She wouldn't ignore me unless she had a reason," she snapped, her pulse racing. "I'm not sitting in a forest while something's happening to her."

Rayyan stared at her for a beat. Her eyes said everything. Fear. Panic. Intuition. He stood up without another word and started packing. The drive back was stiff and silent. Fog clung to the windows as the city slowly came into view, but it felt colder, unfamiliar. Dee kept checking her phone—still nothing. The longer it stayed silent, the more her thoughts spiraled.

Rayyan, meanwhile, went straight into business mode the moment they got home. Back-to-back calls, spreadsheets on glass tables, and numbers scrolling across his laptop. He barely noticed Dee slipping into the background. She stood in the hallway for a moment, watching him from the shadows, her heart aching. He didn't even look up.

That night, once he was locked away in his office, she sent a single text: I need to see you. Now. The reply came in seconds. A location. No explanation.

Dee slipped out the back, pulling her hoodie low, her steps silent as guilt. She took a cab to the old boxing gym near Dockside. Behind the ring, through a narrow door, sat Stape—mid-thirties, broad-shouldered, black tank top, a scar slicing across her collarbone like a whisper of war stories. She was surrounded by dim lights, old files, and the constant scent of tobacco.

"You look like hell," Stape muttered, blowing smoke to the side.

"I don't have time to look pretty," Dee snapped, sitting down across from her. "Ayat's missing."

That got her attention. Stape's jaw tightened. "Since when?"

"She didn't come home. No calls. No messages. I've checked everything. I called three of her burner numbers—nothing. And I know who's connected to this."

"Talk," Stape said, eyes narrowing.

"Duke." Dee's voice was low. "He's not who he pretends to be. He can… he can control time. I saw it. He slowed everything down—just enough to get in my head. He's been lying since day one."

Stape stared at her for a long, tense second. Then she stood up and grabbed her satellite phone. "Give me his number."

Dee handed it over, her fingers shaking. Stape tapped it into her device, syncing it with her surveillance rig. "We'll see what your time-manipulating friend's been up to."

Hours passed. The night stretched thin. Just after midnight, Dee's phone rang. Unknown caller. She answered without thinking.

"Dee," Duke's voice was strained, like he was whispering through a collapsing signal. "I don't have much time. If you want answers… meet me. Redline Road. The old textile mill. There's a basement door around the back. Come alone."

"Duke, wait—"

He hung up.

She sat frozen, heart hammering against her ribs. She turned to Stape. "He just called. He wants to meet. Alone."

"Of course he does," Stape muttered, already pulling cords out of a drawer. "He's expecting you to walk into a trap."

"He said Redline Road," Dee said. "Abandoned textile mill."

Stape was already at her laptop, eyes scanning multiple screens. "Got it. Call bounced through a tower near Green Ridge—industrial zone, no surveillance, power cut to most buildings years ago. Quiet place to disappear someone."

"Or bury the truth," Dee whispered.

"We're not walking into this blind," Stape said. "I'm coming with you."

They drove fast, headlights slicing through the thick city smog. The area was exactly as expected—dark, lifeless, forgotten by time. The building loomed like a ghost. Vines wrapped around the broken windows. Graffiti covered the bricks like scars.

"There." Dee pointed at a rusted side door nearly hidden beneath ivy.

"You sure about this?" Stape asked, loading her sidearm.

"I'm sure of one thing—Ayat's in trouble. And Duke knows why."

They moved like shadows through the alley, the rain starting to fall again—slow, cold, and steady. Dee's pulse was loud in her ears as she reached for the handle.

"Ready?" Stape whispered.

"Always."

The door creaked open with a sound like a scream. Inside, the dark swallowed them whole. They crept through the narrow hallway, boots echoing on wet concrete. The ticking started again—faint, steady, mechanical. A sound out of time. A sound she remembered from before.

But the basement was empty.

No Duke.

Just old machines, piles of abandoned wires, and a flickering light swinging from a chain.

"He wanted us here for a reason," Stape muttered, checking corners. "Or he wanted to see if we'd come at all."

"He's toying with us," Dee whispered.

Or warning me, her mind added darkly.

They searched every inch, but there was no sign of him. Still, Dee could feel him—somewhere just beyond their reach, pulling the strings, testing her limits.

By the time they made it back to the surface, dawn was bleeding across the sky. Stape parked a few blocks from Dee's house again, this time keeping her hand on the gearshift, ready to bolt if needed.

"You don't have to go back in there," Stape said. "Rayyan's going to ask questions."

"I know," Dee murmured. "But if I don't show up, it'll only make him chase harder."

As expected, the moment she stepped inside, her phone lit up.

Rayyan.

She froze.

He was already calling again.

She answered.

"Where the hell have you been?" he snapped, panic coating his voice. "I called everyone. I thought you—"

"I needed air," Dee cut in flatly. "I couldn't sleep."

"Dee, talk to me. What's going on?"

But she couldn't. Not yet. "I'll be back soon."

Before he could say more, she hung up. She looked over at Stape, who was leaning against the hood of her car, lighting another cigarette.

"You okay?" she asked.

"No," Dee said. "I'm not. Ayat is still missing, Duke is playing God, and I feel like I'm ten seconds away from losing my mind."

Stape walked over and handed her a thermos of coffee. "Then hold onto whatever's left of your mind. Because if he can control time, you don't have the luxury of losing yours."

Dee looked up, the fire returning to her gaze. "We're going to find Ayat."

Stape nodded. "And we're going to find out what Duke's really hiding."

Dee stared off into the horizon, the morning sun struggling to rise behind a wall of clouds. Somewhere out there, Ayat was waiting. Somewhere, Duke was planning his next move. And somewhere, time itself was bending to someone else's will. But Dee wasn't afraid anymore.

She was ready to break the rules of reality to bring her sister back.

And this time… she wasn't alone.

---

The warehouse had been a dead end.

Nothing but dust, rats, and a cruel joke echoing in Dee's chest. Her heart pounded as she stared into the shadows of the empty basement, the air thick with the scent of rust and damp concrete.

"He played us," Stape muttered, scanning the darkness with narrowed eyes. "Son of a—"

Dee's hands were already shaking when she hit redial. The phone rang once… twice…

Then Duke picked up. His voice came like a slow, smug exhale.

"Looking for something?"

"Where are you?" Dee demanded, her voice brittle with fury. "You said she was here—"

Duke laughed. Low. Cruel. "I was just playing. I wanted to see if you'd bring anyone. And you did."

"No—no, she's just an aunty," Dee blurted. Her mind raced. She needed to think fast. "She's Ayat's aunt. She followed me, alright? I swear I didn't tell her anything. I swear on Ayat's life. She's just worried. Like me. I didn't bring a team, I didn't alert anyone. Please. I just want her back."

There was silence on the other end. Tense. Suspicious. Then—

"Aunty, huh?" Duke repeated slowly.

"She doesn't even know who you are. She doesn't care. She's just—she's family," Dee lied, eyes flicking toward Stape, who was watching her like a hawk. "I promise I didn't betray you. I never will. Just… please. Don't hurt her."

Another pause. Then a sigh.

"Fine," Duke said finally. "You want her? Come get her. Bluster Café. Back building. No more games, Dee. Next time, I won't be so generous."

The line went dead.

Dee's breath caught in her throat. She turned to Stape, adrenaline twisting in her chest.

"Bluster Café. That's the real spot."

Stape already had her car keys in hand. "Then let's make this count."

They didn't waste a second. On the way, they laid it out—sharp, fast, and focused.

"We go in together through the back alley. I'll scope the rooftop, get visuals, cover exits," Stape instructed. "You go in through the kitchen door. Look harmless, look alone. Get eyes on Ayat. If she's there, distract them long enough for me to get in."

"And if it's a trap?" Dee asked, already knowing the answer.

Stape didn't blink. "Then we spring it first."

Rain slicked the pavement as they pulled up near the café. The main building was closed, lights out, but the side alley led to a rusted iron staircase and a back structure with a single red light flickering above the door.

Dee crept in alone, pulse thunderous, each step forward another prayer. The inside of the backroom smelled like smoke and stale coffee, a perfect front for something rotting underneath.

Then she saw her.

Ayat. Tied to a chair. Duct tape around her wrists. Her face bruised, her hair matted, but her eyes—her eyes locked onto Dee with silent desperation.

"Ayat," Dee whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

And then… another voice.

"Didn't think you'd actually make it." Duke stepped out from the shadows, his figure drenched in arrogance. But he wasn't alone.

Inspector Kang stood behind him.

Dee froze.

"Kang?" she gasped. "What the hell are you doing here?"

But Kang didn't answer.

Not with words.

He stepped between Duke and Ayat.

And in that moment, chaos erupted.

Stape burst in through the back window, gun drawn. "MOVE!"

Duke lunged toward Ayat but Kang blocked him, throwing a punch so hard it sent Duke reeling. Dee rushed to Ayat, tearing through the tape, her hands fumbling in panic.

"Come on, we're getting you out—"

"Go!" Kang shouted, slamming Duke against the wall. "Take them and GO!"

But Duke wasn't alone. Two other men stormed in from the hall. Stape turned, fired twice—one bullet grazing the wall, the other hitting one of the thugs in the leg.

"Dee! Get her out now!" Stape shouted.

Dee grabbed Ayat, pulling her toward the side door. "Come on, come on—just hold on—"

A gunshot cracked through the air.

Kang stumbled.

Blood blossomed across his side.

Dee screamed. "KANG!"

She turned to go back, but Dee grabbed her arm. "We don't have time! I'll get him. You take Ayat and run."

"But—"

"GO!"

Stape dragged Ayat out into the rain, her chest heaving, tears burning her eyes.

Behind her, inside that godforsaken building, she could hear the sound of fists, gunfire, and the roar of betrayal crashing down around them.

They weren't out yet. But they were alive.

And that… that had to count for something.

---

---

The cold night air barely kissed her face before the next wave of horror came.

Dee had just pushed Ayat into a narrow alley beside the café when she heard it—a low, sharp growl behind her. A familiar voice that crawled down her spine.

"Going somewhere?"

She turned, breath stolen from her lungs.

Duke stood just beyond the fog, blood smeared on his cheek, eyes burning with fury. Behind him, two of his men dragged Kang—bleeding, barely standing—toward her.

"No—no, no, you said—" Dee began.

"I said a lot of things," Duke snapped, and before she could react, his fist slammed across her face.

She dropped to the ground, pain exploding through her skull. Ayat screamed, but another set of arms grabbed her and pulled her away.

Dee couldn't even see straight when they were shoved back into the café's basement. This time, it wasn't empty. Chains. Ropes. Dried blood on the walls. It was a place meant for breaking people.

Kang was cuffed to a pipe in the corner, groaning.

Dee's arms were yanked behind her, tied with something tighter than rope—plastic straps biting into her skin. Her legs were bound next. Then she was dropped to the concrete like garbage.

Duke paced in front of her like a madman holding back a storm. "You shouldn't be able to resist it," he muttered. "But you do. Why?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" she hissed, blood trickling from her lip.

"I stopped time, Dee," he growled. "I froze it. Everything. Everyone. But you—you moved. You breathed. That's not possible."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

He grabbed her by the collar, lifting her partially off the ground. His face was too close, too wild.

"What powers do you have? Huh? How can you…" his voice trembled, eyes searching her like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "How can I not control you?"

Dee's lip trembled. "I don't… I don't have any powers."

"Liar!" His slap cracked through the air, whipping her face to the side. Blood hit the floor.

"She doesn't!" Kang shouted, struggling against his cuffs. "You're wrong! She's just a girl! She's been in this country for months! You're mistaken—leave her alone!"

Duke turned slowly. His eyes were dead. "And you're still talking?"

Then he kicked Kang in the ribs—once, twice—until the inspector crumpled against the wall with a cry of pain. The concrete stained darker under his body.

Dee screamed, "Stop it! Stop!"

But Duke just turned back to her, breath heaving. His voice was lower now. More dangerous.

"I can't use my power when I fight," he said softly. "Someone's jamming it. You're the only one I've fought who could move through it. That means you're the one."

"I'm not," she whispered, shaking. "Please…"

"You're hiding it," he whispered, almost gently. "Or maybe… maybe it's still dormant. But I'll find it. And when I do, you'll wish you'd never lied to me."

Dee looked at Kang, barely conscious, blood at his mouth. Her wrists throbbed from the restraints. Her whole body ached. But her heart? Her heart was still burning.

And that fire… wouldn't go out.

---

---

On the other side of the chaos, Stape's arms wrapped tightly around Ayat as they stumbled into the dark alley behind a shuttered pharmacy. Ayat's breathing was ragged, her eyes wide and unfocused. Blood had dried around the rope burns on her wrists, and her feet barely touched the ground as Stape dragged her forward, step by step.

"Hold on," Stape muttered, her voice tight, almost mechanical, like she was forcing herself to stay calm. "We're almost there. You're safe now. Just breathe, kid."

But Ayat wasn't listening. Her swollen eyes scanned the shadows like a haunted child searching for a lost mother. "Where's… where's Dee?" she rasped. "She—she said she'd come. She said she'd follow."

Stape froze. Her stomach twisted. Her fingers instinctively gripped Ayat's shoulder tighter.

"She was right behind us," Ayat insisted again, more frantically this time. "She told me to run—why isn't she here? She said she'd be okay, she—"

"She stayed behind to cover us," Stape said, her tone hardening to hide the crack in it. "That's what she does. She protects."

Ayat's knees buckled. Stape caught her before she hit the pavement and gently lowered her to the ground. The girl was trembling all over now, her breath coming in shallow hiccups. Fear clung to her like a second skin.

"No, no," Ayat whispered, shaking her head. "We can't leave her—I'm going back—"

"You're not," Stape said firmly. "You're injured. You're exhausted. You'll get caught again or worse."

"I don't care!" Ayat's voice cracked. "She's all I have!"

Stape's jaw clenched. She didn't respond. She didn't have the words.

She helped Ayat into the backseat of her car, propping a jacket behind her head, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her hands moved automatically, like muscle memory from a hundred other rescues.

"I'll find her," Stape whispered. "I promise you that."

Ayat open the door after stape run . She walk slowly she ask a stranger for phone .

, she dialed the only number she could think of.

It rang.

Once. Twice.

"who?" Rayyan's voice was sharp, alert.

"Rayyan…" her voice cracked, breathless. "Dee… she's in danger. Please—help her. You have to—"

The phone slipped from her hand as she lost consciousness. Her head slumped against the seat.

Rayyan stared at the screen. His pulse hammered. "Wait Ayat what happened. Ayat reply me where's Dee _" .

The stranger who's phone Ayat take pick phone and tell Rayyan everything how she meet this injured girl .

"I'm taking her to the nearest hospital. You came there" stranger says and then hurriedly call the ambulance.

Rayyan stop his work he came out .

He take his car and drove to the main road . He stop to ask a stranger about the nearest hospital.

"Where's the nearest hospital?" Rayyan barked. "Now."

After knowing the answer .

He sped through red lights and tore through side roads like hell was chasing him . At the hospital, Ayat was rushed in. Nurses swarmed her. Machines beeped. The doctor nodded but gave no answers.

"She's stable," they said. "She needs rest. You'll have to wait outside."

Rayyan stood in the hallway like a man drowning, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. He had no address. No location. No answers. Just a voice filled with fear and a girl who didn't wake.

He called every contact. Every man in his network. Every favor owed.

"I don't care if you have to break laws," he said through gritted teeth. "Find her. Now."

"Fine Dee now".

---

Stape returned to the alley behind Bluster Café like a predator circling old blood. But the place had changed.

Silence.

Darkness.

Gone were the muffled voices, the scuffling of boots. Now only the wind spoke, brushing past torn police tape that fluttered like a warning.

No Dee.

No Duke.

No Kang.

Just blood.

Stape knelt beside it slowly, reverently, as if the red stains were sacred. Her fingers hovered inches above the ground. The metallic scent hit her like a knife in the gut.

Please don't be hers.

Shell casings glittered nearby like cursed treasure. A bullet hole scarred the rusted backdoor. Drag marks disappeared into gravel—but stopped abruptly at the back fence.

They were taken.

"Goddamnit…" she whispered. "No, no—"

Her composure shattered. She slammed her fist into the concrete, blood blooming across her knuckles.

Where the hell are you, Dee?

Stape stood and scanned the scene again with the precision of a machine—but inside, her chest felt hollow. Like something vital had been yanked out.

She yanked out her phone, her voice steady even if her soul trembled.

"This is Stape. Get me a satellite scan of the café's rear perimeter, two-hour window. Check surveillance, traffic cams. Tap nearby Wi-Fi routers. I want movement logs. GPS trails. Blood analysis."

Her breath caught.

"And I want it fast."

She slid the phone into her coat and looked out over the empty alley.

"They took the wrong damn woman," she whispered, her voice like steel. "And I'm going to make every one of them bleed for it. I tried so hard to act accordingly but Duke that bastard . I will make him regret it regret picking Dee and regret threatening her I will make him regret for being born ."

---