The Grand Crescent Hotel stood at the far end of the city.

It had once been one of the most beautiful hotels in town.

Now, it looked forgotten.

The walls were covered with faded paint.

The windows were dusty.

The old sign above the entrance flickered whenever the wind became stronger.

Mehreen stood outside the hotel, staring at the building.

In her hand was the silver key.

317.

She had held it so tightly during the entire journey that the edge of the metal had left a mark on her palm.

Arslan stood beside her.

He was quiet.

Too quiet.

Mehreen glanced at him.

“You’ve been silent for twenty minutes.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

“Whether this is a good idea.”

Mehreen looked at the hotel.

“It’s probably not.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

Arslan sighed.

Mehreen looked at him again.

“Are you afraid?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

He turned toward her.

“You.”

Mehreen’s eyebrows rose.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you afraid of me?”

“Because you never listen.”

Mehreen smiled.

“That’s not a reason to be afraid.”

“It is when your life is at risk.”

Her smile disappeared.

Arslan stepped closer.

“Mehreen, listen to me carefully. If you feel that something is wrong, you leave immediately.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t ask about you.”

“Then what did you ask?”

“If something happens, we leave together.”

Arslan stared at her.

Mehreen held out her hand.

He looked down at it.

“Together,” she repeated.

After a moment, Arslan took her hand.

“Together.”

They entered the hotel.

The lobby was almost empty.

An old reception desk stood beneath a dusty chandelier.

A man sat behind it, reading a newspaper.

He looked up when they approached.

“Can I help you?”

Mehreen hesitated.

“We have a reservation.”

Arslan immediately looked at her.

They hadn’t.

The receptionist stared at them.

“Name?”

Mehreen’s mind went blank.

Before she could answer, Arslan spoke.

“Mrs. Noshin.”

The receptionist stopped.

His eyes moved from Arslan to Mehreen.

Then back to Arslan.

“Mrs. Noshin?”

“Yes.”

The man slowly put the newspaper down.

“You’re late.”

Mehreen felt a chill run down her spine.

Arslan’s expression remained calm.

“How long have you been waiting?”

The receptionist looked at the clock.

“Fifteen years.”

Mehreen froze.

The man smiled.

“Room 317.”

Arslan’s hand immediately tightened around hers.

Mehreen stared at the receptionist.

“Excuse me?”

But the man had already returned to his newspaper.

Arslan pulled her away.

“Come on.”

“Arslan.”

“Not here.”

They walked toward the old elevator.

Mehreen pressed the button.

Nothing happened.

She pressed it again.

The elevator made a strange noise.

Then the doors slowly opened.

Inside, a single yellow light flickered.

They stepped inside.

Mehreen looked at Arslan.

“Did you hear what he said?”

“Yes.”

“He said fifteen years.”

“I heard him.”

“How did he know?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know something.”

Arslan looked at her.

“Not everything.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

The elevator began moving.

Slowly.

The lights flickered.

Mehreen suddenly felt Arslan’s fingers move closer to hers.

She looked down.

His hand was almost touching hers.

She smiled.

“Are you scared now?”

“No.”

“Then why are you holding my hand?”

Arslan looked at her.

“I am not.”

Mehreen looked down.

Their fingers were intertwined.

She raised an eyebrow.

Arslan glanced at their hands.

Then back at her.

“Maybe my hand is scared.”

Mehreen laughed.

For the first time that day, the tension disappeared.

Arslan looked at her.

And for a moment, he simply watched her laugh.

There was something different in his eyes.

Something soft.

Something that made Mehreen’s smile slowly fade.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Arslan’s expression became serious.

“Because I don’t know how long I’ll be allowed to.”

Mehreen’s heart skipped.

“What does that mean?”

The elevator suddenly stopped.

The lights went out.

Mehreen gasped.

“Arslan!”

“I’m here.”

His voice came from the darkness.

She felt his hand find hers.

“I’m right here.”

Mehreen’s fingers tightened around his.

“Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

The elevator started moving again.

But neither of them released the other’s hand.

“There are moments when a person’s hand becomes the only safe place in the world. You don’t know when it happens. You only know that once you find that safety, you’re terrified of losing it.”

The elevator doors opened.

They were on the third floor.

The hallway was completely dark.

Only one light worked at the far end.

Room 317.

Mehreen looked at the number.

Her heart began beating faster.

Arslan stood beside her.

“Ready?”

“No.”

“Good.”

She looked at him.

“Good?”

“At least we’re both honest now.”

Mehreen smiled nervously.

They walked toward the door.

Room 317.

The silver key trembled in Mehreen’s hand.

She inserted it into the lock.

It turned.

Click.

The door opened.

They stepped inside.

The room was covered in dust.

There was an old bed.

A broken lamp.

A wooden wardrobe.

And a large window overlooking the city.

Mehreen slowly walked inside.

“This room hasn’t been used for years.”

Arslan looked around.

“Maybe.”

She turned toward him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Arslan.”

He walked toward the window.

Mehreen followed.

“Do you remember this room?”

He looked at her.

“No.”

“Your father brought you here?”

“No.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Arslan’s jaw tightened.

“I’ve been here before.”

Mehreen stared at him.

“When?”

“I don’t remember.”

“How can you not remember?”

“I was ten.”

Mehreen went silent.

Arslan looked around.

“Your mother was here.”

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“You said you met her once.”

“I did.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Arslan turned away.

“I was ten years old.”

“I know.”

“My father brought me here.”

“Why?”

“He told me to wait outside.”

“Outside this room?”

“Yes.”

Arslan’s voice became distant.

“I remember sitting in the hallway.”

He closed his eyes.

“I remember hearing people arguing.”

“Who?”

“My father.”

“And?”

Arslan opened his eyes.

“Your mother.”

Mehreen’s heart began racing.

“What were they arguing about?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try to remember.”

“I was a child.”

“But you remember something.”

Arslan looked at her.

“I remember your mother’s voice.”

“What did she say?”

He closed his eyes again.

Then whispered:

“You promised me she’d be safe.”

Mehreen froze.

“Who?”

Arslan opened his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Who was she talking about?”

“I don’t know.”

“Arslan!”

“I don’t know!”

His voice echoed through the room.

Mehreen stepped back.

Arslan immediately regretted it.

“Mehreen…”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

She looked away.

“I just need the truth.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

She turned toward him.

“You have no idea what it feels like to spend your entire life believing your mother is dead.”

Arslan became silent.

“And then suddenly finding out…”

Her voice broke.

“…that maybe she isn’t.”

He looked at her.

“I know.”

Mehreen shook her head.

“You don’t.”

“My mother disappeared too.”

Mehreen stopped.

Arslan stared at the floor.

“I never told you.”

“Told me what?”

“My mother.”

Mehreen slowly walked toward him.

“What happened to her?”

“She disappeared.”

“When?”

“I was twelve.”

“Did you ever find her?”

“No.”

“Did you believe she was dead?”

“Everyone told me she was.”

Mehreen’s heart softened.

“But you didn’t believe them.”

Arslan looked at her.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because my mother promised she’d come back.”

Mehreen’s eyes filled with tears.

“Maybe she will.”

Arslan smiled sadly.

“People don’t always keep their promises.”

Mehreen looked at him.

“Maybe they do.”

He stared at her.

For a few seconds, the mystery disappeared.

There was only a girl who had lost her mother.

And a boy who had lost his.

Two people who had spent years carrying the same emptiness.

Mehreen slowly reached for his hand.

Arslan looked down.

“Maybe some promises just take longer to keep.”

“Sometimes two broken hearts recognize each other before they recognize love. They don’t fall in love because they are perfect. They fall in love because, in each other’s silence, they finally find a place where their pain feels understood.”

Arslan looked into her eyes.

“Mehreen.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Make me believe I can have something good.”

Her heart tightened.

“Why?”

“Because every good thing I’ve ever loved has been taken away.”

Mehreen stepped closer.

“Maybe this time…”

She paused.

“…you won’t lose it.”

Arslan stared at her.

“Don’t promise me that.”

“Why?”

“Because if you promise me…”

His voice became softer.

“…I’ll spend the rest of my life believing you.”

Mehreen’s heart raced.

Neither moved.

They were standing too close.

Mehreen could hear his heartbeat.

Or perhaps it was hers.

She slowly looked away.

“We should search the room.”

Arslan smiled faintly.

“Yes.”

They began searching.

The wardrobe.

The drawers.

The bed.

Nothing.

Then Mehreen noticed something.

A painting hanging on the wall.

It was old.

A landscape.

She touched the frame.

Something moved.

“Arslan.”

He immediately came over.

“What?”

“Look.”

There was a small gap behind the painting.

Arslan removed it.

Behind it was a hidden compartment.

Inside was a small metal box.

Mehreen stared at it.

“The key.”

Arslan looked at her.

Mehreen took out the silver key.

She inserted it into the lock.

The box opened.

Inside was a stack of letters.

A small memory card.

And one photograph.

Mehreen picked up the photograph.

Her hands began shaking.

It was her mother.

But she wasn’t alone.

She was standing beside another woman.

Mehreen stared at the woman.

Then looked at Arslan.

“Do you know her?”

Arslan’s expression changed.

“Yes.”

“Who is she?”

He didn’t answer.

“Arslan.”

“My mother.”

Mehreen’s eyes widened.

“Your mother?”

Arslan nodded.

“This photograph was taken before she disappeared.”

Mehreen looked at the photograph again.

There was something written on the back.

She turned it over.

Her heart stopped.

“To the two children who will one day finish what we started.”

Mehreen looked at Arslan.

“Two children.”

He nodded.

“Us.”

Suddenly, a noise came from outside.

Both of them froze.

Someone was walking down the hallway.

Slowly.

Step by step.

Mehreen whispered:

“Someone is here.”

Arslan immediately grabbed her hand.

“Behind me.”

The footsteps stopped outside the room.

Silence.

Then…

The door handle moved.

Mehreen’s heart pounded.

Arslan pulled her behind him.

The door slowly opened.

A man stood there.

His face was hidden beneath a dark hood.

Arslan immediately stepped forward.

“Who are you?”

The man didn’t answer.

He looked at Mehreen.

Then at the key in her hand.

And smiled.

“You’re late.”

Mehreen froze.

“Who are you?”

The man took one step inside.

Arslan moved in front of her.

“I asked you a question.”

The man laughed softly.

“You still protect her.”

Arslan froze.

“You know me?”

“Of course.”

“Who are you?”

The man looked at him.

“You were ten years old when I last saw you.”

Arslan’s face changed.

“Salman?”

The man smiled.

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“Salman?”

Arslan immediately turned toward her.

“Get behind me.”

But Mehreen couldn’t move.

The man slowly removed his hood.

He was older.

His face was thin.

But his eyes were unmistakable.

Arslan stared at him.

“You died.”

Salman smiled.

“That’s what I wanted everyone to believe.”

Mehreen felt dizzy.

“Who is he?”

Salman looked at her.

“Your mother’s biggest mistake.”

Arslan stepped forward.

“Don’t talk to her.”

Salman laughed.

“Still the same, Arslan.”

He looked at Mehreen.

“Your mother loved you very much.”

Mehreen’s breath caught.

“You knew my mother?”

“Yes.”

“Where is she?”

Salman smiled.

“That’s the question you’ve been asking for fifteen years.”

“Where is she?”

“Very close.”

Mehreen’s eyes filled with tears.

“Where?”

Salman pointed toward the letters.

“Read them.”

Mehreen looked down.

“What?”

“Your mother left you the truth.”

“Where is she?”

Salman’s smile disappeared.

“Ask Arslan.”

Mehreen turned toward him.

Arslan’s face had gone pale.

“What does he mean?”

Arslan didn’t answer.

“Arslan?”

Salman slowly walked backward.

“Your mother didn’t disappear because she wanted to.”

Mehreen’s voice trembled.

“Then why?”

Salman looked at Arslan.

“Because someone betrayed her.”

Arslan’s eyes darkened.

“Who?”

Salman smiled.

“Ask your father.”

Arslan froze.

“My father is dead.”

“Is he?”

Silence.

The world seemed to stop.

Arslan stared at him.

“What did you say?”

Salman stepped toward the door.

“Some people die.”

He looked at Mehreen.

“Others simply disappear.”

Then he looked at Arslan.

“And some…”

His smile became darker.

“…are waiting for their children to find them.”

He disappeared into the hallway.

Arslan immediately ran after him.

“Stop!”

Mehreen followed.

They reached the hallway.

Nothing.

Salman was gone.

Arslan looked around.

“How?”

Mehreen was breathing heavily.

“Arslan…”

He turned toward her.

She was holding one of the letters.

There was blood on it.

A single drop.

Mehreen looked at her finger.

“What’s this?”

Arslan stared.

Then he saw it.

A small red mark on the edge of the envelope.

He slowly took it from her.

There was a message written on the back.

“The truth is not in the past.”

Arslan looked at Mehreen.

“What does that mean?”

Mehreen shook her head.

Then she noticed something else.

A second line appeared beneath the first.

As if someone had written it in invisible ink that was slowly becoming visible.

Mehreen read it.

Her blood ran cold.

“Your mother is alive.”

Mehreen’s eyes filled with tears.

“Arslan…”

He took the letter.

He read the words.

For the first time since Mehreen had met him…

She saw hope in his eyes.

But then…

A third line appeared.

“And she is watching you.”

Mehreen looked around the empty hallway.

“Where?”

Arslan grabbed her hand.

“We have to leave.”

“Why?”

“Now.”

They ran toward the elevator.

But before they reached it…

Mehreen heard something.

A woman’s voice.

Soft.

Faint.

Coming from behind the door of Room 317.

“Mehreen…”

She stopped.

Arslan turned.

“What?”

Mehreen’s face had gone pale.

“Someone called my name.”

Arslan looked toward the room.

“Mehreen…”

The voice came again.

This time clearer.

“Mehreen…”

She slowly walked back.

Arslan grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t.”

She looked at him.

“It was a woman.”

“I know.”

“How?”

Arslan’s face changed.

Because he recognized the voice.

Mehreen saw it.

“Arslan?”

He whispered:

“That’s my mother’s voice.”

They both turned toward Room 317.

The door was slowly closing.

Behind it…

Someone was standing.

A woman.

Watching them.

Mehreen took one step forward.

“Mom?”

The woman disappeared.

Mehreen ran toward the room.

Arslan followed.

But when they entered…

The room was empty.

There was no one.

Only a single white envelope lying on the bed.

Mehreen picked it up.

Her hands were shaking.

The name on it was hers.

“For Mehreen.”

She opened it.

Inside was a single sentence.

“If you want to find your mother, stop trusting the man who loves you.”

Mehreen slowly looked at Arslan.

He stared back at her.

Neither spoke.

Because both of them knew…

The mystery had just become something far more dangerous.

And somewhere in the city…

A woman who had been missing for fifteen years opened her eyes.

She whispered one name.

“Mehreen.”

Then she looked at the photograph of two children.

Mehreen.

And Arslan.

And smiled through her tears.

“They have finally found each other.”

To Be Continued…