Hey Meagan

Just thought I'd drop you an email in case you're wondering why I've disappeared off Facebook and Instagram etc.

I've decided to remove all distractions this last semester so I can finish my degree, giving one hundred percent. Especially after my exam results that were so-so...

Man, I wished you'd download WhatsApp! But I know what you're going to say, so I won't force you. But email me anytime.

Love you,

Dalia

Dalia hit 'send' before she changed her mind then tossed her phone beside the pillow where her head lay. She bit her lip; guilt pooled in the pit of her empty stomach. 'It's not a complete lie...' she told herself.

A message from Mikaal - that she didn't read - had triggered her decision to deactivate all her social media accounts, and a call from Simon had forced her to block his number.

'This is temporary,' she reminded herself although her stomach churned, the guilty feeling persistent. But she just needed some space to think - and time to learn the truth.

'Why am I keeping Meagan in the dark again?' She knew the answer was interwoven between her own uncertainty about how to feel about Mikaal and Meagan's open dislike for him.

Dalia pulled her quilt covers above her head. It was already noon but for the last couple of days, her routine had been sleeping in until lunch then binging on Netflix all afternoon. She continued to have dinner with her family out of obligation but she didn't participate in their conversations.

She wondered when someone, her father at least, would ask her why she was sulking, but they all acted as if everything was normal. She even wondered why she was acting this way...

She supposed she hoped her passive-aggressive behaviour would instigate some kind of a reaction.

Dalia reached for and hugged a pillow to squash the loneliness and her hands fought the urge to email Meagan again. But what could Meagan do except tire her with questions she didn't know the answer to?

"I need to do something!" she said aloud as if hearing the words might conjure an answer.

Dalia's eye's lit up as a thought took form in her mind. Spurred into action, she sat up and rummaged under her pillows for her phone, then she dialled the local general practice.

"Hello - "

"Hi, I was wondering if Dr Wright was free?" Dalia asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"I'm sorry, he's with patients all day. Would you like to make an appointment?"

Dalia hesitated. "No, uh, I just have a general question actually. You might be able to help me?"

"Sure, go on," the girl said, her voice sounding young and chirpy.

"Dr Wright asked me to find out which hospital I was in last year but none of us remember. Is there another way I can find that information?"

"What were you in the hospital for?"

"I'd hit my head really badly."

"Well, if it was a head injury, depending on how serious it was, they usually do a scan."

Dalia scratched her head. "Uh, Dr Wright did mention CT scans, I think..."

"Do you remember getting any documents from the hospital? The patient usually gets a copy of the scan results."

Dalia's tone brightened. "No, but that gives me a place to start." Her mind moved into overdrive at the possibilities. It could be a chance to learn both how severe her accident was and the hospital she had been in! "Thanks so so much," Dalia said, her tone exuding earnestness.

"Not a problem at all. Just give us a call anytime if you need a follow-up appointment."

Dalia hung up with renewed energy and stretched her body; it ached from too much sleep. Just as she pushed the covers away that gathered in troughs and valleys at her feet, her tummy grumbled. Skipping breakfast the past two days probably wasn't a good thing but sleep was a welcome escape from the thoughts she didn't want to deal with - like her family's reaction to her question. Were they...

No, she didn't want to think about it. She felt isolated enough as it was.

Dalia made a quick salami and cheese sandwich and devoured it in seconds. Her stomach now quietened, it was time for action.

With everyone at work, it was the perfect opportunity to scour their home for the scans the hospital had potentially given. Yet, why did she need to hide this from her family?

Dalia ignored the uneasiness that crawled up her chest. Her legs made decisive steps towards the master bedroom at the front of the house. But would her parents' room be where their family documents were kept?

When she got to the open door, she hesitated and looked at the neatly made king-sized bed in the dimly lit room, the Venetian blinds only partially ajar. The bed-frame was made of solid mahogany wood and the bedspread was dull grey in colour with black velvet roses. It really felt like she was invading their privacy...

"I don't have a choice," she said aloud to herself and moved towards one of the matching bedside tables, reaching under the black lampshade for the switch. Yellow coloured light illuminated the cream wall in the shape of an oval. Dalia pulled open the drawer, peering intently at its contents.

"Ugh!" Dalia jerked her head away and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the memory of the condoms she had caught sight of. She did not want to think about her parents that way.

She shut the drawer and took a step back. 'This is a bad idea,' she thought. The copies of the scans were probably too big to fit in those drawers anyway - at least according to the medical dramas she had seen on television. So where else could they be - if they existed at all?

Dalia closed the door to her parents' room but reopened it and swung it to the angle she had found it. She bit her lip, feeling more and more like a criminal. She shook her head with its feelings of delinquency and headed towards the kitchen for a drink.

Dalia sat at the dining table and sipped her glass of water that she liked to have at room temperature. She absentmindedly looked at the hallway that lead to her room. Daveth's room was unfortunately close enough for her to hear proof of his lunacy during his late night 'gaming sessions'. She supposed it would have been worse if it weren't for the study that was sandwiched between their rooms, which at least gave her ears a bit of distance from his annoying shouts of surprise, anger and delight. 'The study!'

Dalia strode towards the study, remembering the filing cabinets her father stored bills in. The heavy metal structure whimpered as she forced the top drawer open. There were labels for different types of bills such as electricity, gas, mortgage payments but nothing health related.

Disappointed, Dalia tried the second drawer. She found their birth certificates, passports, and immunisation records. This looked much more promising; she had to be close!

She ignored the screeching sound of metal on metal as she delved deeper into the drawer, pushing one section forward after another, each flimsy as they hung by their aluminium hooks. Her curiosity piqued when she reached an unlabelled segment, but her hands immediately stilled.

Was that the front door opening and shutting? Dalia strained her ears, sure that she could hear two faint voices. She glanced at her watch; it was now 3:00 pm. It must be her parents, who lectured at the same university although in different departments. They usually waited for each other to finish for the day and came home together, but they must have both finished early today. It was unlikely her brother, who typically worked from nine to five.

Something within her, instinct perhaps, spurred her to quietly shut the drawer and leave the room; she still had two more weekdays to continue her search. She turned towards her room and started to turn the knob but froze. She had heard her name being mentioned, she was sure of it! Torn, Dalia stood facing her closed door, her hand still on the handle. She hated eavesdropping on others' conversations, but they were talking about her and she had to know what they were saying - especially considering the way they had behaved since she asked about the hospital!

Dalia swallowed, then as quiet as a mouse, she returned to the dining table where she had left her half-empty glass. She touched the cold, smooth exterior but didn't lift it to her lips, her ears honing in on the voices that grew louder.

"Darling, are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"I don't know... It doesn't feel right."

"We know what's right."

"But - "

"Dalia!" her mother said, noticing Dalia for the first time, now sipping her drink. "You're home?"

Dalia's heart pounded but she shrugged. "Uni's not until next week. You didn't see my car?"

"Wasn't paying attention..." Her mother's eyes retreated into her mind before they refocussed on Dalia's face. "It's your turn to set the table tonight," she said.

"Okay." Dalia feigned nonchalance as she glanced between her mother and father.

"Good," her mother said and turned to her father. "Help me with this." She handed him her laptop bag and lead him back to the front of the house where they had come.

Dalia walked over to the kitchen sink, rinsing her cup before putting it on the rack to dry. She busied herself, checking the dishwasher and returning the clean contents to the appropriate cupboards. Involuntarily, realisation dawned on her as she conducted these menial tasks to distract herself from her racing heart.

Her mother was always harder to read, donning a tough exterior like a suit of armour, but her father had a face like an open book. There was no mistaking it; guilt was written all over his face, but the question was why?

---

Hey hey hey!

I'm really loving writing these scenes :) I feel (I hope) just as excited as you feel as the story unfolds more and more.

As I mentioned in my note to everyone, I'm planning to enter Mikaal for The Wattys 2018, so your continued support (votes, comments, shares etc) will help immensely. I think you can vote for a chapter more than once if it's one you love a lot... *Hint hint* :P

Thank you for being on this journey with me! And wish me luck :)