HAANI

Untitled Episode

HAANI

Episode 18

The old man disappeared down the corridor before Haani could reach the door.

She quickly stepped outside.

The corridor was empty.

There was no sound of footsteps.

No opening door.

Nothing.

Only the quiet hum of the university lights remained.

"Haani!"

Sophie, Emma, and Maya came running after her.

"Where did he go?" Sophie asked.

Haani looked toward the end of the corridor.

"I don't know."

Maya walked slowly in the same direction.

"He couldn't have disappeared that quickly."

Emma looked around.

"Maybe there is another exit."

They searched the corridor, but there was no one.

Haani returned to the library.

Her eyes remained fixed on the empty doorway.

"He wanted me to see that book."

Maya nodded.

"I think so too."

"The symbol was clearly visible."

Sophie asked,

"Do you think he is the person we're looking for?"

Haani shook her head.

"We don't know that yet."

Maya looked at her seriously.

"And we shouldn't assume it."

She opened the old file again.

"We have records, messages, photographs, and clues. But we still don't have proof."

Haani remembered something she had recently read in the Quran.

She quietly said,

"There's a verse about verifying information before accepting it."

Maya looked at her.

"Which one?"

Haani replied,

"Surah Al-Hujurat, 49:6. It teaches believers to verify news when it comes from someone whose information may not be reliable, so that they don't harm people because of ignorance."

Eric had entered the library without them noticing.

He had heard the last part.

He stopped near the shelves.

For a moment, he simply listened.

Then he said,

"That's actually reasonable."

Everyone turned toward him.

Haani looked surprised.

"You agree?"

Eric shrugged.

"I don't think every message or clue should automatically be treated as truth."

Maya smiled slightly.

"That's the most sensible thing you've said about this mystery."

Eric gave her a brief look.

"I'm capable of being sensible."

Emma whispered to Sophie,

"Sometimes."

Sophie tried not to laugh.

Eric ignored them.

He walked toward the table.

"Did you find anything about the person with the new identity?"

Maya looked at him.

"Yes."

She turned the laptop toward him.

A record appeared on the screen.

Eric studied it carefully.

The person's current identity was listed, along with an old London address.

Haani asked,

"Do you recognize the name?"

Eric shook his head.

"No."

"Then why did you look so worried?"

Eric looked at her.

"Because the address is familiar."

Maya immediately leaned forward.

"Where?"

Eric pointed to the screen.

"This area."

He paused.

"My father used to go there."

Haani's expression changed.

"How often?"

"I don't know."

"When did he go?"

"Mostly when I was a child."

Maya asked,

"Did he ever tell you why?"

Eric shook his head.

"No. Whenever I asked, he changed the subject."

Haani looked at the address again.

"Then maybe that's where your father was searching for the child."

Eric didn't answer.

He seemed lost in his thoughts.

After a few moments, he said,

"We should go there."

Sophie looked surprised.

"You mean now?"

Eric nodded.

"If we're going to find out the truth, waiting won't help."

Haani picked up the old photograph.

"I'm coming too."

Eric looked at her.

"You don't have to."

Haani replied calmly,

"I know."

There was no argument after that.

A few hours later, they arrived at the old London neighborhood.

The streets were narrow and quiet.

Most of the buildings were old brick houses with dark windows and small gardens.

Maya checked the address again.

"This is the place."

They stopped in front of an old three-story house.

There was no name on the door.

Only a small brass number.

Eric stared at it.

"I remember this place."

Haani looked at him.

"You've been here?"

Eric nodded slowly.

"Once."

"When?"

"When I was about twelve."

"What happened?"

Eric looked toward the house.

"My father brought me here."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

He paused.

"But I remember waiting outside for almost an hour."

Haani asked,

"Did your father go inside?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

Eric nodded.

"Then he came out carrying a black box."

Maya immediately asked,

"What kind of box?"

"Wooden. Small."

Haani remembered the boxes they had already found in the Johnson family house.

"Do you remember what happened to it?"

Eric shook his head.

"No."

They approached the house.

Maya knocked.

No answer.

She knocked again.

Still nothing.

Eric noticed something near the bottom of the door.

A small envelope had been pushed underneath it.

He picked it up.

There was no name on it.

Only the 1887 symbol.

Haani looked at him.

"Open it."

Eric hesitated.

Then he opened the envelope.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

The message was short:

"The person you are searching for is not the person you think."

Underneath it was another sentence:

"Look for the house that remembers."

Maya frowned.

"What does that mean?"

Eric turned the paper over.

There was an old sketch.

It showed a house.

But not the house they were standing in.

Haani studied the drawing.

"That's the old Johnson house."

Eric looked at her.

"Yes."

"Then why would someone send us back there?"

Maya pointed at the corner of the drawing.

"Because there's something written here."

She read it aloud:

"Under the place where the family kept its memories."

Eric's face became serious.

"The study."

Haani remembered the locked room they had discovered earlier.

"The room where we found your grandfather's photograph."

Eric nodded.

"But we already searched it."

Maya said,

"Maybe we searched the room, but not everything inside it."

They returned to the Johnson family house that evening.

The rain had started again.

Inside the house, everything was silent.

Eric led them upstairs.

They entered his father's old study.

The room still smelled of old books and wood.

Haani looked around.

"We checked the desk."

Maya examined the shelves.

"The cabinets too."

Sophie looked under the desk.

"Nothing."

Eric stood near the old fireplace.

He stared at it for several seconds.

Then he said,

"My father used to tell me never to touch this."

Haani walked toward him.

"The fireplace?"

Eric nodded.

He examined the stone frame.

"There."

A small symbol was carved into the stone.

The same 1887 symbol.

Maya immediately moved closer.

"This isn't just decoration."

She ran her fingers along the edge.

"There's a hidden mechanism."

Eric pressed the symbol.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

A faint click came from inside the wall.

Everyone stepped back.

Part of the wooden panel beside the fireplace moved slightly.

Behind it was a narrow hidden compartment.

Inside lay a black wooden box.

Eric stared at it.

"The box..."

Haani asked,

"The one you remember from your childhood?"

Eric nodded.

He carefully removed it.

The box was covered in dust.

On its lid was a single word:

"Remember."

Eric opened it.

Inside were several old letters.

One photograph.

And a small silver pendant.

Haani recognized the pendant immediately.

It had the same symbol.

Maya picked up one of the letters.

"This is from 1888."

She carefully opened it.

The handwriting was old but readable.

She began reading:

"Edward,

The child is safe.

The name has been changed.

The family has promised never to reveal his origin.

Michael knows where he is.

But one day, someone from the Johnson family may come looking for him.

If that happens, tell them this:

The child was never the reason for the silence.

The reason was what the child knew."

Everyone became silent.

Haani looked at Eric.

"What could a child have known?"

Eric stared at the letter.

"I don't know."

Maya continued reading.

The final line was written in darker ink:

"If the truth is ever revealed, it must come from the child himself."

Eric slowly sat down.

For several seconds, he didn't speak.

Then he said,

"My father knew."

Haani replied softly,

"Yes."

"He knew where the child was."

"Maybe."

Eric looked at her.

"No. He knew."

His voice was filled with certainty.

"He spent years searching for him."

Haani didn't argue.

Instead, she picked up the photograph from the box.

It showed the same woman and child from the 1888 photograph.

But there was something different.

A second person had been standing behind them.

The face was partly hidden.

Haani turned the photograph over.

There was a name.

"Mary Johnson."

Maya looked surprised.

"Mary?"

Eric's expression changed.

"That's my grandmother's name."

Haani looked at him.

"Your grandmother was in the original story?"

Eric shook his head.

"According to my family records, she wasn't connected to any of this."

Maya carefully examined the photograph.

"Then either the family records are wrong..."

She paused.

"...or someone deliberately removed her from the history."

Eric stood up.

His eyes were fixed on the photograph.

For the first time, the mystery was becoming personal in a way he had never expected.

He looked toward Haani.

"Maybe my family didn't hide the truth because they hated Yusuf."

Haani said nothing.

Eric continued,

"Maybe they were afraid of what would happen if the truth came out."

Haani nodded slowly.

"That's possible."

Eric looked down at the old letter.

"I've spent years believing one side of the story."

Haani replied,

"Now you have a chance to learn the other side."

Eric remained silent.

Later that night, after everyone had gone home, Eric stayed alone in the library.

The old book about Islam was open in front of him.

He had been reading about mercy, justice, and the treatment of people who were different from one another.

He turned another page.

This time, he wasn't searching for an argument against Islam.

He was simply trying to understand.

He remembered something Haani had once told him:

"Study the original sources before forming an opinion."

Eric leaned back in his chair.

He whispered to himself,

"Maybe I should have done that years ago."

He opened his laptop.

His search was simple:

"What does Islam teach about judging people?"

He began reading.

One question led to another.

And another.

For the first time, his search wasn't driven by anger.

It was driven by curiosity.

Meanwhile, Haani was at home looking at the photograph of Mary Johnson.

She noticed something in the background.

A building.

She enlarged the image.

There was a sign above the door.

Only three letters were visible:

S.M.C.

Haani immediately messaged Maya.

"I found another clue."

Maya replied almost immediately:

"What?"

Haani sent the photograph.

A few seconds later, Maya responded:

"I know that place."

Haani's heart began beating faster.

She typed:

"Where is it?"

Maya replied:

"It was an old community center near London. It was closed decades ago."

Haani stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

This time, it wasn't from Maya.

It was from the unknown number.

"Stop searching for the child."

A second message appeared.

"Search for the woman."

Haani looked at the photograph again.

Mary Johnson.

For the first time, she understood that the mystery might not begin with the child at all.

Perhaps it began with the woman standing beside him.

And somewhere in London...

the answer was waiting.