I answered her with unwavering confidence, "I am ready to sacrifice my life to escape this world."
She let out a mocking laugh and said, "It's simple, and it won't cost you your life, Rania. We just need to complete the ritual we started before Sara arrived and ruined it. You will hand over all your powers to me, and I will seal your third eye so you can no longer communicate with anyone from the underworld."
I replied, "Agreed. Let's begin."
"Not today," she said. "Tomorrow, at three in the morning, we will meet to complete the ritual."
"How? I'm in prison," I asked.
She smiled faintly. "Consider it a gift… you're free."
The moment she finished speaking, a guard called my name. "The investigator wants you." He took me along, and as I entered the office, I saw my bag and my phone—the ones that had been taken from me when I was detained.
"This can't be real…" I whispered.
Suddenly, the investigator walked in and said, "Congratulations. You're free."
"How?" I asked, stunned.
"The killer brought the victim's head and confessed," he replied. "But you'll be required as a witness."
At that moment, I was terrified—shaken to my core by Malika's power.
"Who killed Sara?" I asked.
"One of your schoolmates. His name is Imad."
"That's impossible," I said firmly. "Imad would never do something like this. There must be a mistake."
"He brought her head and confessed to the crime," the investigator insisted. "Now sign these papers to complete your release procedures. I've already contacted your family—they're here to take you home."
I signed the documents. As I was about to leave, he looked at me closely and said, "You're hiding something. I can see it in your eyes—confusion, fear, shock… and a story you haven't told me yet. But I will uncover it, Rania."
Outside, I found my mother and Ziad waiting in front of the police station. The moment I stepped out, my mother ran toward me and embraced me tightly.
But as soon as she held me, the image of her with hair made of black serpents flashed through my mind. I pushed her away and said, "I want to go home."
"Get in, I'll drive you," Ziad offered.
"I want to walk… alone," I replied.
"Go ahead, Ziad," my mother said gently. "I'll go with her."
We walked side by side, my mother close to me, while I kept staring at her in disbelief.
How could this kind, gentle, patient woman—who raised us with values and morals—have anything to do with the underworld?
How could the same hands that prepared the most delicious meals for us be stained with blood?
A thousand questions stormed my mind, yet I couldn't ask a single one. I chose silence.
When we reached home, it was the first time I felt like a stranger in my own house.
Am I in a nightmare… or is this reality?
"Go take a warm shower," my mother said. "I'll prepare something for you to eat."
I entered my room, closed the door, turned off the lights, and threw myself onto my bed. For the first time, I began to doubt everything… even myself.
Maybe I was sick.
Maybe I was the villain in this story.
Because it couldn't be that everything around me was wrong while I was always right.
But then another question haunted me—how did Malika manage to convince Imad? That polite, hardworking boy who loved studying and technology… how could he commit such a brutal act?
And how did she manipulate the police? First convincing them I was guilty, then making them believe I was innocent?
If she possessed such power… then what power did I have that she wanted from me?
I was weak. I understood nothing.
She, on the other hand, controlled everything.
That night, I asked myself a thousand questions and found no answers.
I called out to Malik—but he didn't respond.
And that made me doubt him too.
Maybe he also wanted to exploit this so-called power of mine.
But what power were they even talking about?
I'm going to lose my mind…
Who will answer my questions?
Lost in this chaos of thoughts, I eventually drifted into sleep…
Until I woke up to loud knocking on my door and the voices of my mother and brother calling, "Rania! Rania!"
Startled, I rushed to open the door. My mother immediately pulled me into her arms.
"I was so worried about you," she said. "I kept knocking all night, but you didn't answer."
While I was in her embrace, I noticed something written on the palm of my hand in red ink:
3:00 AM — near the central beach.
I froze in shock.
"I'm sorry… I need to take a shower," I said quickly.
I rushed to the bathroom and started scrubbing my hand, but the writing wouldn't fade.
Later, I came out and sat at the breakfast table.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang…
And then he walked in, holding red roses…
Yes… it was him. 🌹