Chapter 33 Zainab
ZAINAB
My ankles were killing me.
I’d been doing laps around the living room for the past twenty minutes, trying to get my blood flowing, trying to shake off the restless energy that came with being trapped in the same four walls day after day.
The baby was pressing on everything: my bladder, my spine, my sanity.
I couldn’t sit for too long without my back screaming.
Couldn’t stand for too long without my feet swelling up like balloons.
Eight months, almost nine months pregnant and under house arrest. What a life.
I paused by the window, stretching my calves, watching the empty street outside. Yusef had been gone for almost an hour now. He’d texted when he got to the mall, just like I asked. But I was still nervous. Couldn’t help it. Every minute he was out there alone felt like an eternity.
My phone buzzed. I snatched it up, hoping it was him.
Mehar: I can’t wait until you’re back home so I can introduce you to my new boyfriend! He’s so amazing Z. I really think this one is different.
I smiled despite my anxiety. My baby sister, in love. After everything she’d been through with Ahmad and our father, she deserved this. She deserved someone who treated her right. Someone who made her feel safe.
Me: I’m so happy for you!! Can’t wait to meet him. You deserve all the love in the world sis
I set the phone down and kept walking. Living room to kitchen. Kitchen to hallway. Hallway back to living room. The ankle monitor rubbed against my swollen skin with every step, a constant reminder of my cage.
But Prime was coming home today.
The thought made me giddy. Actually giddy, like a teenager waiting for her crush.
He’d texted last night saying he had good news to share.
I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t care.
I just wanted him here. Wanted to kiss him.
Wanted to run my fingers through his locs while he rubbed my feet and told me everything was going to be okay.
Soon. He’d be home soon.
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I frowned and opened the message.
The first thing I saw was a photo. Yusef. Sitting on a bench in what looked like the mall, smoothie in hand, completely unaware he was being photographed.
My heart stopped.
Then I read the text beneath it.
Unknown: I’ve been watching him all day. Such a sweet boy. It would be a shame if something happened to him. Come to the Starlight Motel on Sepulveda. Room 12. You have 30 minutes. No police. No calls. Come alone or I’ll make sure he never comes home.
The phone slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor.
No. No no no no no.
I dropped to my knees to grab it, my hands shaking so violently I could barely pick it up. The photo. That was Yusef. That was definitely Yusef. The hoodie he’d been wearing this morning.
Someone had been following him. Someone had been close enough to take this picture.
Someone had my nephew.
I couldn’t breathe. My chest was tight, my lungs refusing to work right. I was hyperventilating, gasping for air like a fish out of water. The baby kicked hard—once, twice, three times—responding to my panic, making everything worse.
I grabbed the edge of the couch and pulled myself up, my legs shaking so bad I almost collapsed again.
Prime. I needed Prime.
I called him. Straight to voicemail.
“No, no, no…” I called again. Voicemail. Again. Voicemail.
He was on the plane. Thirty thousand feet in the air with no service, no idea that our world was falling apart.
Quest. I’d call Quest.
Voicemail.
Justice.
Voicemail.
Mehar.
Ring. Ring. Ring. No answer. She was probably with her new boyfriend, too caught up in love to check her phone.
I was alone. Completely alone. No one could help me.
I looked at the clock. Twenty-seven minutes left.
The room was spinning. I gripped the wall to steady myself, my palm leaving a sweaty print on the paint. The baby was going crazy now, kicking and rolling, sensing my terror.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, rubbing my belly with my free hand. “It’s okay, baby girl. Mommy’s gonna fix this. Mommy’s gonna fix this.”
But how? How was I supposed to fix this?
I looked down at my ankle. The monitor. The thing that was supposed to keep me trapped in this house until my trial.
If I left, I’d trigger an alert. The police would come. My bail would be revoked. I’d go back to jail.
But if I didn’t leave…
Yusef.
Sweet, traumatized Yusef who’d finally started to heal. Who’d finally started to smile again. Who’d asked for one hour of freedom and trusted me to keep him safe.
I couldn’t let anything happen to him. I couldn’t.
The decision wasn’t even a decision. There was no choice to make.
I grabbed my purse with trembling hands, nearly dropping it twice. My fingers were shaking so bad I could barely open the Uber app. I typed the address wrong three times before finally getting it right.
Four minutes away.
Four minutes. Then however long it took to get to Sepulveda. I could make it in thirty if traffic was light.
Please God let traffic be light.
The car pulled up and I walked out the front door without looking back. I felt the moment I crossed the boundary, that invisible line a hundred feet from the house, like a physical thing. Like a cord snapping. Like my freedom evaporating into the California air.
The monitor would be alerting someone right now. A signal pinging to whatever company tracked these things. They’d notify my lawyer. Notify the court. Notify the police.
I didn’t care.
I got in the Uber, a silver Camry with a driver who looked like someone’s grandfather, and gave him the address.
“Starlight Motel on Sepulveda. Please hurry. Please.”
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Took in my pregnant belly, my tear-streaked face, my shaking hands. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t ask questions. Just nodded and pulled away from the curb.
The drive was agony.
Every red light felt like a lifetime. Every slow driver in front of us made me want to scream. I kept checking my phone, watching the minutes tick by, praying for a text from Yusef saying he was fine, it was all a mistake, he was on his way home.
Nothing.
I tried Prime again. Voicemail.
“Please,” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to God or the universe or just the empty air. “Please let him be okay. Please. I’ll do anything. Take me, take the trial, take whatever you want. Just please let Yusef be okay.”
The driver glanced at me again. “Ma’am? You alright?”
“Just drive. Please. Faster.”
He pressed the gas a little harder.
I clutched my belly, feeling the baby squirm beneath my palms. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m so sorry. Mommy’s gonna fix this. Mommy promises.”
Twenty-two minutes.
Eighteen minutes.
Fourteen minutes.
The motel finally came into view and it was a run-down two-story building with a flickering neon sign and a parking lot full of cars that had seen better days. The kind of place you went when you didn’t want to be found. The kind of place where bad things happened and nobody asked questions.
“Here,” I said, shoving cash at the driver. “Keep the change.”
I was out of the car before he fully stopped, my legs unsteady beneath me. The baby shifted, throwing off my balance, and I had to grab the hood of a parked car to keep from falling.
Room 12. Ground floor, all the way at the end.
I moved as fast as my pregnant body would let me. Past the ice machine. Past the vending machines. Past doors with peeling paint and windows covered with heavy curtains.
Room 12.
I pounded on the door. “Hello? I’m here! I came alone! Please… please don’t hurt him!”
Nothing.
I tried the handle. It turned.
The room was dark. I fumbled for a light switch, found it, flicked it on.
Empty.
No Yusef. No kidnapper. No one.
Just a stained bedspread, a TV bolted to the dresser, and the smell of cigarettes and mildew.
“Yusef?” I stumbled further inside, checking the bathroom. Empty. The closet. Empty. I even dropped to my knees and looked under the bed like he might be hiding there, like this was all some sick game of hide-and-seek.
Nothing. No one.
I’d been played.
The realization crashed over me in waves. There was no kidnapper. No one was holding Yusef. Someone had followed him, taken photos, and used them to lure me out of the house.
To make me violate my bail.
My stomach heaved. I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up, my body rejecting the stress and fear and horror of the past thirty minutes. I knelt on the grimy tile floor, retching until there was nothing left, tears streaming down my face.
And then I heard the sirens.
I heard them before I saw them. There came that familiar wail cutting through the afternoon air, getting closer and closer.
No. No, this couldn’t be happening.
I stumbled out of the bathroom, out of the room, into the harsh sunlight just in time to see two police cars pulling into the parking lot, lights flashing, tires screeching to a halt.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Yusef: Hey Z, I’m home! Where are you?? The door was unlocked but you’re not here…
A sob ripped out of my throat. He was home. He was safe. He’d never been in danger at all.
Then another text came through.
Prime: Just landed baby. Home soon
I stared at the screen, my whole body shaking. He was on his way home to an empty house. To Yusef alone and confused. To a nightmare he didn’t even know was happening.
And I’d just destroyed everything.
“Zainab Ali?” One of the officers was approaching, hand resting on his holster like I was dangerous. Like I was a threat. “You’re in violation of your bail conditions. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“Please,” I begged, tears streaming down my face. “Please, you don’t understand. Someone sent me a threat. They had pictures of my nephew. I thought he was in danger. I had to—”
“Ma’am, turn around. Now.”
“I’m eight months pregnant! Please, just listen to me—”
“Turn around!”
Rough hands grabbed my arms, wrenching them behind my back. I cried out as the cuffs clicked into place, the metal digging into my wrists. The baby kicked frantically, as scared as I was.
“Please be careful,” I sobbed. “The baby. Please.”
They didn’t respond. Just guided me—not gently—toward the squad car. One of them put his hand on my head and pushed me into the backseat, my belly pressing painfully against my thighs in the cramped space.
The door slammed shut.
Through the window, I watched the Starlight Motel grow smaller as we pulled away. The flickering sign. The empty room. The place where my life had officially ended.
Home soon.
But I wouldn’t be there when he arrived.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the baby, to Prime, to Yusef, to everyone I’d failed. “I’m so sorry.”
The sirens wailed as they carried me away.