The Siege of Haniya [ONC2024] ✔

6. The Siege

CHAPTER SIX: THE SIEGE

Hamza and the warriors brought us to one of their safehouses, offering to protect us from the Akkadiyah's sight for as long as we wished to stay in Haniya. "An enemy to my enemy is my friend," they said. But if my instinct proved to be reliable, then they knew more than they showed.

Hamza waited for Leila and Prof. El-Azizi to enter the safehouse with the other warriors before he called out my name, leaving only the two of us outside. Prof. El-Azizi and Leila glanced at me as they reached the door, eyeing Hamza warily. But I assured them I would be fine.

"Um, Salwa," he paused to search for words, seemingly unsure how to address the situation. His arms crossed against his chest as his eyes flickered down at the key hanging on my neck. "How much do you forget?"

I glanced down at my hands. "Six years. I lost my memories of the past six years."

Hamza took a sharp breath before shaking his head. "That's...that's a long time. It must be hard for you."

"It's terrifying," I murmured. "The last thing I remembered was waking up for my high school class. I didn't even remember how I ended up here."

"So, you don't remember anything from the last six years?"

I shook my head. "Whenever I try to think about those years, my head throbs. Leila said the memories might come naturally, and I shouldn't put any pressure on my mind. So, I guess I'll just go with the flow."

He nodded, heaving a deep sigh. "She's right. But if you need any help, we're always ready to help."

I sent a grateful smile to him as we walked towards the safehouse's front door. It was a simple two-story house located on the furthest side of the neighbourhood with a lawn. A few vehicles—a couple of black sedan cars, a four-by-four truck, and the secondhand truck from Abu Ali—parked in the driveway. Multiple pots of roses, peonies, and bluebonnets adorned the little garden. I stopped by one of the peonies to stroke the petal.

Upon entering the safe house, taps of feet could be heard before I felt someone hug my legs. A little girl around the age of three or four looked up from my legs and said in a cheerful voice, "Hi!"

"Oh!" I staggered back at the momentum. Shaking off the shock, I caressed her black-brownish hair. My heart melted at the sight of her wide, hazel eyes and bright, toothy smile. It was as if the whole world brightened with her grin. "Hi, what's your name?" I asked in English, knowing someone would translate it to her in Arabic.

The dazzling smile on her face faltered as she tilted her head in confusion. Her wide eyes decreased in size, and her eyebrows knitted together as she glued her eyes to my face.

"Salam," said Hamza from behind me. I could feel his warm presence by my side, waiting patiently for the little girl to notice him.

"Baba!" she said cheerfully, reaching up to him. After snuggling into his arms, she pointed to me and muttered in Arabic.

With a small smile tugging at his lips, Hamza nodded to me before leaving with the little girl to another room. As they went, he bent his head to her ear and whispered something inaudible. Just before they went out of sight, Salam looked up from her father's shoulder to gawk at me. Her wide hazel eyes filled with curiosity as she pierced through my soul.

My eyes followed them until they went out of sight, and I felt an intense emotion running through my heart at the sight. Why did I feel like I had seen her before? Why did both of them seem familiar?