Hey. Hi. Hello. Salaam. Bonjour. Salut. Ciao. Ahoj. Bog. Marhaba. Ola. 😀
K.K. This one’s for you. Sending you cake and hugs and lots of love. See, I’m so nice. 😊❤
Next post on Sunday Insha Allah. 🌸
Troubled Illusioner. ❤
As narrated by Zee:
Then, all at once, they start asking questions.
“Are you okay?”
“Is this a prank?”
“Hurry!” I say, grabbing Dee’s arm and pulling her off her chair.
She frowns, stumbling.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asks, looking at me worriedly.
“Yes,” I answer, trying to stay calm.
‘But if you don’t leave now, you’re not going to be okay,’ I want to add, but remain silent.
Pushing Dee behind my back, I mouth a desperate ‘Dayyanah’s here!’.
That seems to do it.
Uncle Ismaeel and Aunty Aadila stand up immediately, surprise evident on their faces.
“Who’s here?” Meez and Sumayya ask stupidly in unison.
Hamza glares at Sumayya, putting his finger to his lips; indicating to her to shut up.
Amz is already by Dee’s side. She grabs her arm and leads her to the door.
“Amz! What are you doing?!” protests Dee, irritation clear in her voice.
She suddenly stops abruptly, pinning her heels to the ground, causing me to knock into her back.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” she asks, her voice rising.
“I’d like to know too. You’ll going on like a bomb’s about to drop!” adds Sumayya.
Heads turn and the couple at the table we’re standing next to get up in panic, causing their chairs to fall.
“There’s a bomb?!” screeches the lady.
The entire restaurant is looking at us now.
The rushing waiters have all come to a dead stop.
The sound of a glass crashing to the floor breaks the moment of tense silence.
“There’s a bomb?!” a panicked whisper comes from my left.
And then, all hell breaks loose.
“Oh no!” I mutter in dread.
“Ziyaad, take Amaani and get Deeyanah to the car. I’ll handle this,” Uncle Ismaeel commands quietly, giving me his keys. “The rest of you’ll stay here.”
“Just shut it and listen!” I yell sternly at Dee who opens her mouth, about to object.
Adrenaline pumps through me as I grab Dee’s other hand and pull her through the wild crowd of people trying to get out of the restaurant.
“There is no bomb!” I hear Uncle Ismaeel say in a calm, controlled, yet authoritative voice. “Please calm down. Let me explain.”
“What are you doing?!” screams a man.
I recognize his voice.
It’s the middle aged man who’d been shouting out orders in the kitchen.
It’s the boss.
I don’t glance behind me.
Instead, I push past the last person, holding firmly onto Dee’s hand so that she comes with me.
Stepping out into the cool night air with Dee next to me, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Jeez, is this the havoc a bomb scare causes?” I mutter, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans.
We wait a couple of seconds for Amz, who’s still stuck in the chaotic crowd.
Nervously I glance around, praying that Dayyanah is still in the kitchen.
But, of course, fate deals the worst cards to those who least deserve it.