"Yes, Miss Razdan, how can I help you today?" he held his hand out, ushering her into his office.
Not bothering with sitting in one of the two chairs, Nadira adjusted her bag higher on her shoulder and gave the professor a level look. "I would like to be considered for your next open position in your ongoing study abroad program the history department is running."
"Oh, Ok, then umm…" Looking around his desk, it was obvious she caught the man by surprise with her requests or most likely by the grim determination shining like burning coals in her tired eyes.
She didn't need to look in the mirror to know that she looked ghastly. Ever since that morning, Idrak left her that tray of food, she had not eaten a proper meal, or gotten a proper night of sleep for that matter. Her eyes were dark, her hair was wild, and Nadira had to put another notch in her belt just to keep her pants on her hips, but none of those little details mattered right now. All that mattered was that she get out of that house and take control of her own life.
Pulling out a sheaf of paper, Professor Sanders looked at her. "Have you filled out the required form?"
"I filled it out as I waited for you and emailed it to you," she answered, her tone flat.
"Oh, ok then, I like your spirit," he smiled politely before scribbling something down on a sticky note. "Well, I know your academic history is excellent, and I can personally attest of how good a student you are, and though you are only a junior, I don't think it would be a problem moving a few slots around to make room for you. However, I must tell you that I can make no guarantee Miss Razdan."
"I understand." It didn't matter, she thought, one way or another she was leaving that house. Over the past year, as the thought of leaving her parent's house festered in the back of her mind, Nadira had picked up multiple pieces of information here and there in regards to work-study programs that she was more than applicable for. Even if she had to drop a few classes to make it work, Nadira would do it.
At this point, it didn't matter what the cost was, she would gain her freedom.
***
Ladling some soup into a bowl, she handed it to her father sitting at the end of the dining table before ladling another for her mother. Putting just a small splash of the lamb soup into her bowl, Nadira sat down with a tired sigh. Only the sounds of the TV on the far wall broke up the heavy silence at the table. Watching the show with bored interest, Nadira felt a tap at her arm. Turning, she saw her dad pushing the linen-covered bowl of naan bread her way.
Nodding towards the bowl, he gave her a disapproving look. "Eat, you look terrible."
The blood in her veins stopped. Draining from her heart, leaving her cold and a little shaken, Nadira stared at her father before it all came rushing back through her veins like a tsunami of fire.
Dropping her spoon with a purposeful clatter, she leveled an honest look at the man. A look so hostile, she hoped he could feel the disgust she had for him right now. "Oh, so now you want me to eat?" She asked, not waiting for him to answer. "Have I gotten too skinny for you, are the bags under my eyes too much for you? Well deal with it, because I have," she shot out, enjoying his look of angered shock. "I have dealt with being the only student in any of my classes too poor to buy anything because every second of my life down to the very food I eat is managed by you two," she pointed a finger at him before arcing the blaming digit towards her mother's outraged face. "Oh, but now you want me to eat, " she let out an empty mocking laugh.
"Nadira," her mother snapped, trying to call her daughter back to order.
Nadira ignored the woman, she was just as guilty as he was. Standing up from the table, Nadira gave them both a look of disgust, daring her father to say something. Blood rushed to her father's face as a multitude of emotions swirled around his eyes: guilt, shame, bruised pride, and above all, outrage. But she could see him back down under her gaze holding his mouth shut while her mother didn't even do her the courtesy of looking her way.
Done with them, Nadira walked away and went to her room. She couldn't stand the sight of them any longer.
***
Leaving before her parents woke up, Nadira didn't even cast a glance into the kitchen as she walked past and out the door. If they left a mountain of dishes for her to do, they would be in for a mountain of disappointment when they woke up to find them still there.
Sitting in her car with a thud, Nadira closed her eyes to the pounding pain in her head. She felt like absolute crap. Last night she slept terribly and woke up feeling as if she had been tossed down a jagged hillside. Her whole body felt weak while her head felt heavy and throbbed in constant pain. Keeping her music off and the windows down to feel the cool breeze against her face, Nadira made it through the morning traffic and to her campus parking lot.
Stepping out of the car, Nadira squinted at the overly bright sunlight and locked her door. Resisting the temptation to lean on her car door for a moment to rest, she checked her watch and groaned. She had four minutes to walk across campus and to get to her first class on time. Walking purposely across the parking lot, she kept her eyes focused on the blasted crosswalk light. The stupid thing always held her up. Willing it to hold, she groaned when it changed to walk, not even halfway. Not wanting to wait, she forced herself into a light jog. One car was already stopped at the line while the other lane remained empty. Trailing a few feet behind the small group of students that already made it across, Nadira smiled with self-satisfaction as her foot touched the sidewalk pavement just as the last beep of the crosswalk light went off. She had every intention of stepping forward, so why wasn't she? The world was beginning to spin around her just as an excruciating pain exploded in her head. Nadira felt herself falling and tried to cry out for anyone nearby. She was too close to the curb's edge, she was going to fall into the street! Someone. Anyone, please. She could hear people yell, and the horn of a car screech into her ear as her body tensed for the impact she knew would come. Thankfully, the blackness in her mind crashed into her first.
**
"You fool," the man snarled into the unconscious woman's ear as he held her in his arms.
Sighs of relief and exclamations of worry rushed through the air around him as he hoisted the unconscious girl higher in his arms. Having pulled her away from the oncoming car, the man had caught the sickly-looking girl just at the right moment. The people around the man began to offer him praise while some offered to help, but they all went ignored as he began to walk away. The shocking and heroic scene would soon leave the onlookers' minds and never be recalled again.
But he would remember, he thought, tightening his hold on the foolish girl. He would remember the unfamiliar sense of terror that gripped him as he stopped time and space for just a fraction of a second to get to her. He could never forget it.
Chapter 8
Opening her eyes, Nadira stared up at the white ceiling as her thoughts began to slowly stitch themselves together. Dusty, old, and tilting to one side, Nadira recognized the ceiling fan to her bedroom, confirming her first thought as to where she was. Turning in her bed, she reached for her phone on her nightstand but stopped. It wasn't there. Frowning, she sat up and paused. Pulling back the covers, she froze at the sight of her jeans and blouse. She never wore her jeans to bed.