CHAPTER 8 ( Part 1 )
1097 Words
Aizal kept staring at the screen.
The stranger's last question remained untouched.
The cursor blinked beneath it, waiting.
She typed a reply.
I don't know what you mean.
Her thumb hovered over the send button.
A moment later, she erased every word.
The keyboard disappeared from the screen.
Without replying, she locked her phone and placed it face down on the bedside table.
The room fell silent.
Only the ticking of the wall clock broke the stillness.
She reached for the glass of water beside her bed but stopped halfway.
Her gaze had drifted to the easel again.
The painting stood exactly where she had left it.
After a long pause, she crossed the room.
She studied it quietly.
Her eyes moved from the rain-streaked window to the blurred painting hanging on the far wall.
Then back again.
Nothing looked different.
Nothing looked out of place.
Even so, she found herself taking a step closer.
Her fingers brushed against the edge of the canvas before she pulled her hand back.
The paint had dried hours ago.
She stood there for another few seconds, then slowly drew the curtains across the window.
The city lights disappeared behind the fabric.
The room grew calmer.
After offering a quiet prayer, she switched off the lamp.
...
Morning arrived with the sound of birds outside the window.
By the time Aizal came downstairs, breakfast was already on the table.
Mr. Hashmi folded the newspaper as she pulled out her chair.
"Morning."
"Morning, Baba."
Mrs. Hashmi placed another cup of tea in front of her.
"You were awake late again."
"I lost track of time."
"I guessed as much."
She smiled before sitting down herself.
For a while, the conversation wandered from work to traffic and then to a neighbour whose cat had somehow managed to climb onto the rooftop again.
Mr. Hashmi chuckled.
"That cat has more adventures than I do."
"It also gives the entire neighbourhood a reason to gather outside," Mrs. Hashmi replied.
Aizal laughed quietly.
Before anyone stood up from the table, Mrs. Hashmi looked at her.
"And don't forget."
Aizal looked up.
"Tomorrow evening."
"The dinner invitation."
"I haven't forgotten."
"Good."
Her mother pointed towards the staircase.
"Choose your dress tonight. I don't want you standing in front of the wardrobe for an hour tomorrow."
"I'll choose it today."
"I'm holding you to that."
Aizal smiled.
"Fair enough."
A few minutes later, she picked up her bag.
"I'm leaving."
"Drive carefully," her father called.
"I always do."
...
The school building was already alive with movement.
Students hurried through the corridors carrying revision notes, while teachers disappeared in and out of classrooms with attendance registers tucked beneath their arms.
Near the notice board, two senior students were arguing over a timetable.
Someone laughed from the science lab.
A football rolled across the courtyard before its owner sprinted after it.
Everything felt exactly as it usually did before examinations.
As Aizal stepped into the staff room, Amna looked up from a pile of papers.
"There you are."
"I've only been here for ten seconds."
"And I've already answered the same question six times."
"What question?"
Amna straightened a stack of notebooks.
"'Miss, will this chapter be included in the exam?'"
Aizal smiled.
"So... the official exam season has begun."
"It began yesterday."
Both of them laughed.
Aizal placed her bag beside her chair before unlocking the cabinet next to her desk.
She reached inside without looking.
Her hand met the cold wooden shelf.
Nothing else.
She paused.
Then leaned forward.
Files were arranged exactly where she remembered leaving them.
Sketchbooks.
Paint supplies.
A packet of coloured chart paper.
She moved them aside one by one.
The blue folder wasn't there.
A slight frown crossed her face.
She checked the upper shelf.
Then the bottom one.
Still nothing.
Amna noticed the silence.
"What are you looking for?"
"The lesson plans."
"The blue folder?"
Aizal nodded without taking her eyes off the cabinet.
"I kept it here yesterday."
Amna walked over.
"Maybe it's underneath something."
Together they removed every file from the cabinet.
Within minutes, the desk was covered with papers.
The cabinet stood completely empty.
Amna looked inside once more before slowly turning towards Aizal.
"It isn't here."
Aizal slipped the key out of the cabinet lock and stared at it for a second.
"I locked it before I left."
"You remember?"
"I remember locking it."
Her answer came too quickly.
The memory was clear.
She had placed the folder inside.
Closed the cabinet.
Turned the key.
Then left with Amna.
Nothing about yesterday felt uncertain.
Amna folded her arms.
"Let's check your classroom first."
Before Aizal could answer, another teacher walked into the staff room.
Miss Sana.
Her eyes swept across the papers scattered over the table.
She stopped.
"Oh..."
A polite smile touched her lips.
"Looks like I've come at the wrong time."
Aizal closed the cabinet door.
"No, it's alright."
Sana glanced at the empty shelves for only a heartbeat before looking back at them.
"Is something missing?"Aizal exchanged a quick glance with Amna before answering.
"Our lesson plans."
Sana's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"For the practical exams?"
"Yes."
"I hope they're not the blue folder everyone has been talking about."
Amna looked at her.
"You've heard about them?"
Sana gave a small smile as she rested a register on the nearest table.
"Only because Mrs. Khalid mentioned how much work went into preparing them."
"They took nearly a week," Amna replied.
"What a shame."
There was sympathy in Sana's voice.
Nothing more.
At least... nothing obvious.
"I hope you find them."
She adjusted the files in her hands and left as quietly as she had arrived.
The room fell silent for a moment.
Amna waited until the door closed.
"Did you notice that?"
Aizal looked up from the cabinet.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Amna shook her head.
"I probably spend too much time reading detective novels."
Aizal smiled faintly.
"Clearly."
The bell rang before either of them could say another word.
Teachers began leaving the staff room one after another.
Amna picked up a notebook.
"We'll search during the break."
Aizal nodded.
"There isn't much else we can do."
...
The first two periods passed more slowly than usual.
Although she remained focused in class, the missing folder lingered quietly at the back of her mind.
When the bell finally announced the morning break, she and Amna met outside the staff room without exchanging a word.
They searched the art classroom first.
Every cupboard.
Every drawer.
The storage cabinet beside the sink.
Nothing.
Next came the resource room.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD