The Hunt for Malik and Dima
In front of Dima's apartment, a heavy silence hung, like a black curtain suffocating the corridor. The wall lamps flickered with a fading, dying glow, and the air, thick with the scent of dust and age, made any stranger feel as though they were standing on the threshold of a secret meant to remain hidden.
Detective Mohammed stood beside journalist Susan, his eyes fixed on the closed door. He had reached outside, pressed the doorbell, and a short sound echoed deep within the apartment... then faded away without an answer. Nothing intriguing—no creak of hinges, no footsteps behind the walls.
Mohammed turned to Susan, his gaze a mixture of caution and unsettling certainty:
Detective Mohammed (in a low, steady voice): Malik and Dima have left this place... I'm s
