Hiya.

It's been awhile.

This time both seasons of The Umbrella Academy took my time. Hahahahaha.

Anyways... here you go.

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I'm late.

The talk must have started.

Tatum accidentally spilled coffee onto me because he insisted on doing a backflip on MY table without making any items on it fell. It was my day off but I had to come to office because an unsatisfied client was making a scene and since they were my clients, I had to work for a few hours. After settling everything, I had to rush home to get a new attire because the ones I have in my office locker are not suitable for a religious occasion.

Steady and soft splashes of water bounced off my windshield. It was a hot shower. The sun is blazing in the vast cloudless sky. I frowned, refusing to get myself wet again. I hope once I arrived at the community center, the rain would stop.

I had bumped into Imam Khalil of the Gotham Islamic Community Centre a few days ago in the supermarket and he brought up a talk on Thursday. He kindly invited me to the talk. So I decided to come since it was my day off.

The parking area was almost fully occupied as I arrived. I found an empty spot at the farthest row. The pitter patter slowly getting louder and the sky getting darker every minute. I looked at the time and turned off the car engine. As I was getting my bag, I saw a glimpse of red and gray at the back.

Oh, an umbrella.

I had forgotten that I had one.

I could feel beads of rainfall touching my head and shoulders as I opened the door slightly to open the umbrella. After locking my car, I dashed towards the building to avoid the downpour.

My body trembled when I quick breeze came, making me feel colder. The umbrella stand was packed so I had to place mine beside it. Usually they would leave the door open, but today it was closed. Perhaps, they did it to minimize the sound of the rain. The rain made it difficult to hear the speakers.

Stealthily, I pulled down the door handle and tugged it open. No one minded me. They were focused on the lecture. I rushed to the women seating area and picked a random seat.

"It's been so long since we saw you, Sarah," Wani beamed as I gave my all not to give an eye roll. I don't think she is even pleased I'm here. The only thing she want to hear is tea. Her two friends were following along, eyeing me like hungry hawks. There is always that group of people who came into gatherings like this just to gossip. All three of them are working at the same firm, but different department, so they are quite close.

"Yeah, my schedule is spacious this month." My eyes traveled across the room to find a reason to escape from them. I landed on Imam Khalil and kept my eyes on him.

Look here, Imam.

"I've said this before and I will not stop saying this to you, but you need to find another job," she meddled. Her tone was not even kind. "It's too dangerous. And no man likes his wife to work such scar…"

Finally Imam Khalil saw me and I immediately pretended as if he was talking to me.

"Yes, Imam Khalil?" I acted. He was confused since he didn't call you. "You want to see me? Okay." I finally turned to look at the ladies of my age before me. "Sorry, sisters. I have to go."

With light steps, I almost skipped towards the leader of the center.

"Assalamualaikum, Imam."

"Waalaikumsalam, sister. I'm sure I didn't call you yet," he amusingly said.

"You don't have to because I came here on my own. Save you the time, aren't I?" I chuckled, but I was curious why he wanted to see me. "So, what's the news?"

"A brother is interested in you and would like to meet you."

"Oh," I merely said.

"It's that gentleman over there, by the door."

Resisting a groan, I unenthusiastically turned my head to the door. But the sight of the man piqued my interest.

"Hm? The one with long hair?"

"You are interested?"

"Yes... both interested and surprised actually. I've met him before but I didn't know he is a Muslim."

Sami Laine was talking with a few people of the executive committees.

"He's new in town and always come to help. He wrote a few calligraphy arts for me. He is a good person." Imam Khalil's face shined like a huge sunflower. A bearded one.

"Almost everyone is a good person to you, Imam."

He smiled. Then he asked about me and my children. I let out my concerns on Izzah. He advised me to ask experts instead of him. "Perhaps showing how you are enjoying others company could open her heart."

"I've tried that too. Everytime I met friends, I brought her with me."

"And how often is that?"

I sunk a little. "Not that often."

"Spend more time with her, sister. Empathize her." His warmth eyes and words made me felt a glimmer of hope. That I could help Izzah.

"I know. I'm not giving up."

"What about brother Sami? Are you giving him up like the other pursuers who had taken interest in you?"

I glanced at the suitor and smiled to myself. "Nah, I'm in."

The rain had stopped. Most of the people had gone home. I forgot the time while chatting with Imam Khalil. I need to pick up my kids.

As I was putting on my shoes, I noticed Sami Laine was talking to Idris. I hope Idris did not blabber on our one-night stand. I stood not so far from them to announce my presence. Sami was the first to notice and greeted me eagerly. "Hey."

"Not calling me agent this time?" I teasingly said, earning an awkward smile from him. I put forward the umbrella in my hand. "Thank you for your umbrella. At first, I actually thought it was mine. But then I saw you and I remember the park."

He took the umbrella. "No worries. You really needed it more than me at that time."

"I got your number from Imam Khalil."

His smile got wider and his eyes stared deep into mine. "I wasn't sure to pursue at first because of the guy with you at the park. But Imam Khalil told me that you're not with anyone at the moment so… uh, I asked him about you."

I nodded. "We'll think of a time to meet up."

"Of course. Of course. Just contact me," he breathed out. He looked genuinely happy and it made me heart beat faster. He looked at his watch and became aware of the time. "Oh, I had to go. Got some errands."

He apologized to both Idris and me for leaving soon. "It's alright. I'm leaving too to get some food and my kids."

"Yeah, and I'm picking Imani up from school," responded Idris.

When Sami Laine left with his car, I sharply turned to Idris with a hard stare.

"What? You think I said something?" he scoffed. His words made me sigh in relief. "I did," he then said.

My scowl returned instantly.

He appeared guilty, looking at the ground first before looking at me. "I admit it was childish of me to do so. But I still feel a little bitter that you rejected me. It was a spur of the moment. I didn't exactly say it. It was a hint. But I'm sorry. I was wrong to do that."

"If I have made mistakes, I prefer to confess myself than asking someone else to say it for me," I retorted.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," he apologized. "But judging from his reaction after seeing you, I think he didn't care about it. Don't you see how delighted he is to see you?"

He was trying to appease me. I know that. But what he said is true.

"Sami is a good guy," he added. "He is suitable for a person with your… character."

I raised an eyebrow at the pause. "Hmm," I sounded my doubt. Idris is also a good person, but I didn't like him enough. "You'll find someone." I felt like I needed to say it. "She'll be the best of the best."

A snicker appeared on his face. "Thanks."

I took out my car keys from my bag. "No problem. Bye."

"Take that off!" an old flimsy man yelled, pointing at my headscarf.

I put on a huge fake smile. "Oh, I am so sorry. It doesn't look nice, is it?" I held the end of my headscarf to show how heavily creased it is. "I was too lazy to iron it."

"Take it off! Ironed or not."

"You know… the thing is…" I put on a helpless sad look. "I can't." I tugged my hijab slightly. "I cry with it, laugh with it, sleep with it, eat with it, bath with it." I caressed the fabric of my headscarf lovingly. "It's me."

The man seemed confuse at my words so I took the chance to bid him goodbye.

"Have a nice day, Sir."

Tightening my hand with my son's, I walked away hastily. We were about to pick Izzah up from her daycare. Thank God, she was not yet here. She would scream tearfully at that man and became more scared of strangers.

"Should we get ice-cream?" Malik asked. He was trying to cheer me up.

"We're fasting, remember?" I reminded.

"We can eat ice-cream after tarawih."

I don't actually condone eating snack late at night with them. I shrugged, "Okay. But just this one time."

"Have you ever thought of taking the hijab off?" It appeared to me that he was both worried and curious.

"No. Unless if I had to… I once take it off because I was going undercover. But there is one other time, when I was young, I took it off to show off my boyfriend," I truthfully answered. "But for me, my hijab has always been my weapon and shield. My confidence."

"Well… It was kind of awkward when we learn about 9/11 in school."

I felt sorry for him. I have informed him about 9/11 when he was ten and the view of Islam for some people. "Does the class sneak glance at you the whole lesson?"

"Yeah, me and Yousef, since we're the only Muslims in class."

"Remember that Islam is a religion of peace, just like any other religions. Those who use Islam as an excuse for violence are not Muslims." Then I stopped my steps and crouched down to his level, holding his shoulders. "If you ever feel uncomfortable or scared in class, tell me okay? What I meant to say is…"

"If I was bullied for my religion, I need to tell you, right?" he cut off my words.

"Yes." My eyes raked over his face to see any faint SOS signals of him being harassed at school, but I don't see any discomfort, instead he puckered his lips to the side to think.

"Well… it was awkward when we learn about 9/11 but things were normal after that."

I took longer time to read his eyes; to see truths in them. I guessed I could be at ease since he seemed to be fine. "Okay. Let's get your sister."

The invitation card that I got last week - the event was supposed to be next week, but I already decided not to go. I have multiple reasons why I don't want to. One, I don't know the sender – there was no return address. Two, I don't know the location – there was no information about the location in the card. Three, the card smells fishy even though it looks very elegant and expansive. Four, it's Ramadhan! I don't want to go to parties during this holy month. I'm busy at evenings for tarawih and reading Quran with my children.

I have finished moving to my old brownstone a few days ago. It was both familiar and alien at the same time, because usually I live there with one other person. Izzah was excited because her room is bigger. Malik got his previous room, which is what he wants.

After getting Izzah, we returned to my car. Thank Goodness, that old man wasn't around. Savory smell of mutton bone soup reached my nose as I opened the car. I strapped Izzah securely at her seat. She sulked when she saw the mountain of take-outs at the back of the car.

"Ija stay inside the car," she fussed. She knew that we're going to the homeless shelter to give food. The place is packed with people so, of course, she didn't want anything to do with it. But I don't like leaving her alone in the car. It's more dangerous.

I half-smiled. "You don't want to see your auntie Lee?" I asked. Recently Izzah always play pretend doctor with her toys. She even brought a toy stethoscope with her. I assumed she is interested to become a vet. And she also 'tolerated' Lee. She didn't avoid her but she also ignored her. "She has a stethoscope."

Since the shelter is beside Lee's clinic I could meet her at least once a week.

"Stesscope?" she incorrectly pronounced with eyes sparkled in fascination. "Like this?"

"Yeah… you can hear very clear heartbeat with it," I responded dramatically. "It's a-ma-zing."

I took the driver seat and started the engine. From the rearview mirror, I could see Izzah was still thinking about it. I hope when we get to the shelter, she would change her mind.

I'm very glad that Lee is here. She adjusted the stethoscope ear tips on Izzah's ears and the bell against her own chest. The burst of excitement on Izzah's face made me giggle automatically. She even drooled because of the over-excitement; I had to wipe her chin with my sleeve.

"Ija can hear it! Ija can hear it!" she squealed. "Duk-duk. Duk-duk. Duk-duk." Then she shifted her eyes to me. "Ija wanna hear momma." She took the diaphragm and placed it on my chest. Her eyes widened. "Momma so fast. Dudum. Dudum. Dudum."

"Because I'm too happy, baby," I replied. "I'm happy that you want to go out and meet Lee."

Her response was to tilt her head upward and laughed giggly, causing the ear tips of the stethoscope slid down.

"Rue was here, helping out at noon," Lee said. I nodded casually. "How is the sitter?"

I eyed Izzah, who pouted slightly. "What do you think, Izzah? Intan is nice, right?"

I had decided to hire a sitter slash teacher for my convenience whenever I was busy and had to work until late. Her name is Intan, a university student. She is studying for BA in English. Before officially hiring her, I brought her together with my family so that Izzah is used to her. I always invited Intan over for dinners and iftar.

She is twenty-one years younger than me. A foreign student from Malaysia, who needs extra allowance. I first met her at the mosque. Her physical features are similar as mine – the reason why I approached her first.

"She's okay. She likes animals, just like Ija," she said after thinking for a few seconds.

I remembered how Izzah threw a fuss everytime Intan came over to our house. The only time when she listened to Intan is when she talks about her pets back in Malaysia. She has three cats, two rabbits and two budgies. Izzah loves looking at their pictures. After a few days, she got used to Intan's presence and accepted her.

"Did Tatum still got the quickest time to warm up to her?" Lee asked jokingly, refering to Izzah.

"I hate to say this, but, yes."

"Akak," Intan's soft voice called me. Akak is a shorten version of 'Kakak' which means older sister in Malay. I was preparing some pastry for sehri tomorrow. I heard footsteps approaching and when she got close enough, I finally stared up at her. "Malik has finished his lesson for the night."

"Great. Thank you. Let me just call the taxi for you." I dusted my hand and reached for the telephone. "And this is your payment for today." With the other hand, I passed her a few bills.

"Thank you."

She tried to play with Izzah, who was on the table playing with flour instead of helping me. Her face and hair were sprinkled with the white powder. She ignored Intan and kept on playing by herself as I was speaking in the phone.

Intan drew an outline of a cat's face on the table since it was covered with flour too. "A cat," Izzah said, giving attention. Intan drew another one. "Cat. Cat." My daughter pointed at each of the doodles.

My strawberry puffs are almost ready to bake so I focused on my work. I had to clean Izzah and the kitchen after this.

"Mom, you got some text messages," Malik entered the room, placing my cellphone near me. I glanced at his feet instead of my phone. I couldn't hear his footsteps, which bugged me.

I don't know if it's just me getting very rusty or old but I became careless lately. It's not like I stumbled into things or forgot to wear shoes when going out, but I couldn't hear Malik when he enters a room or walk behind me.

He always managed to surprise and jump-scare me. It almost felt like I was in a horror movie. I always know whenever my kids are approaching me because of their footsteps. But now, not Malik. Whenever I turned away and turned back, even just for a few seconds, Malik was there, and so I flinched in surprise. Like that one time, I was putting his folded laundry inside his drawers while he was in the shower and when I was finished, I was startled when I saw him standing not so far from me. He was about to get his caterpillar plush on the vanity. I didn't even feel him walking behind me. And then there were plenty of time when he suddenly appeared after I closed the fridge door or my closet.

Perhaps his taekwondo class is showing results. But I stop sending him to taekwondo class since he is fasting during the day.

I decided to brush it off and stared at my cellphone. I got a couple of texts from the same person. A smile slowly crept into my lips as I lifted a tray of cream puffs and stood up. Humming to myself, I put the tray into the oven and set the timer.

A honk outside startled me.

"That must be the cab. Akak, bye bye. Malik, Izzah. Bye bye." She waved before rushing to the door.

"Be careful. Bye!" I responded.

"Aren't you going to read the texts?" Malik asked.

"Later. After I clean all of this mess."

It's about 11pm I finally get to feel my comfortable bed after cleaning the kitchen. I did a few stretches for the sore around shoulders and neck. The night is quiet. My clock on the wall was making soft ticking sounds which were almost hypnotizing me to sleep.

I finally unlocked my phone and read the messages. I had two messages.

As-salamu alaykum. How was your day? I'm sorry for leaving so soon earlier today. Your dad called me. We have quite a nice talk. And he gave me your number. That's why I text you :)

I smirked. I had purposely given his number to Father earlier just to see his reaction. Father must have like him since he gave out my number. And as I thought, he was a little taken aback by Father's phone call. I opened the next message.

I'm looking forward to see you and talk with you again.

My fingers were fast. Before I realized it, I was typing a response text.

Waalaikumsalam. How about tomorrow at the park?

The aromatic smell of hotdogs lingered in the air as the soft breeze came. A few people were lining up at a hotdog cart. My stomach grumbled, but my hunger is tolerable. In half an hour, Asr will approached.

Sami was sitting about a foot away beside me on a bench. The silent between us is actually comforting. We were here about fifteen minutes ago, talking about ourselves. He is from Finland, a second generation of Muslim in his family.

"I actually didn't know you are a Muslim, when I first met you," I sheepishly said. "Sorry."

He pursued his lips to the side. "I got that a lot… I'm a black sheep of the family..." Then he stopped himself, which made me glanced at him. His forehead scrunched, not hiding his reluctance.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry if I offend you. I didn't mean to," I softly muttered. It must be something very difficult for him to say it out loud. "You don't have to tell me. It's okay."

"I don't want to scare you away."

"Try me." I have live in Gotham for over a decade. I'm sure I could handle his fear. Gotham had made me strong and fragile at the same time but I believe I could face anything.

"I was a drug addict and alcoholic. I wouldn't say I'm recovered, but I'm recovering. Next month I'll reach my six years of sobriety."

"Six years. I'm sure you can reach ten, twenty, thirty and more," I encouraged, eyeing his silky hair. "I'm willing to help."

He smiled appreciatively. "I was a rebel in my family," he continued as I listened carefully. "Drugs… tattoos…" he pointed at his eyebrow tattoo. "Alcohol… parties… sex… my parent were heartbroken and angry at me."

By now, I was sitting in a crossed-leg position, completely facing him. I wanted to reach for his hand, but I didn't. His eyes were getting moist. I could tell that there is more to that story, so I waited patiently for his words. He blinked his tears away.

"Seven years ago, my mother was feeling unwell. My father called me so I could bring her to the clinic, but I was high at the time, at a friend's house, so I didn't know about the call. My brother was out of town so he's out of question. My father drove my mother to the clinic and on their way, there was a couple who had trouble with their car. My father always like to help people so he stopped at the side of the road. Turns out…"

I finally took his hand in mine, caressing it softly.

"They were crooks. They took the car. They said they didn't mean to kill my parents. They said my father tried to stop them, they had no choice but to hit him with the car and speed off."

"Your mother?" I asked.

"Heart attack. Doctors said she probably had the mild symptoms already, that's probably why my father wanted to drive her to the clinic. If I was..."

"Sami, no," I interrupted, gripping his hand tighter. He is blaming himself for what happened and I know that feeling. It eats you inside and drowns you. "I'm so sorry for your parents. May Allah granted them Jannah. But it's not your faults."

He pulled his hand away. "Sorry. I don't mean to be so pitiful today."

"No… you're not pitiful," I comforted.

"I had these plans in my head, you know," he bitterly snickered, wiping his tears away.

"What plans?" I smiled a little.

He shrugged. "To make you happy. Not the other way round. The first time I saw you, you looked sad and worry."

"Maybe it's because you saw me on a duty. Of course, I should be worry and on guard the whole time," I explained. He didn't look convinced. "Or maybe it will be a story for next time."

He nodded, taking his phone of his pocket. "It's almost Asr," he announced, staring at his phone.

"Yeah, and I had to pick up my kids," I stretched my legs and then stood up from the bench, before returning my gaze at Sami. "It was a good chat, Sami. Thank you for sharing."

"Is it not worthy enough to be called a date?" He rose from his seat and stood before me. His eyes shimmered with playfulness.

I smacked my lips in mock sass. "Nah..."

His lips stretched into a content smile, which coaxed me to reciprocate the same. A sudden police siren coming from the distance surprised me and made me dropped my smile. I stared at police cars as they whizzed past the park. "We'll see each other again?" he muttered, gaining my attention.

I ignored the sirens and gave him a curt smile. "Of course. Bye."

The fire cackled as I poke the briquette and firewood with a long metal rod. The shimmers of the fire were dancing, almost hypnotizing me. It's in the middle of the night. Malik and Izzah were sound asleep the last time I check, though I need to check Malik again when I go down, because a few times I caught him awake, playing his computer game. Perhaps moving the computer into a different room is good idea. I don't know.

I crossed my arms when a strong wind blew harshly. A few strands of my hair escaped my hoodie jacket.

"Sarah."

The unfamiliar voice made me acted quickly. It sounded low and rumbling. I grabbed the metal rod and twirled around to the source of the voice. I was both amazed and worried as The Bat-Man was standing about twenty feet away from me. Or is it really him? But I didn't put down my 'weapon'. My heart began to drum louder and faster.

"Bat-Man?" I breathed out.

"You've been looking for Cassandra Cain." Seemingly menacing, he wasn't asking, however I do not know who Cassandra Cain is.

"You didn't answer my question," I retaliated. "A person wearing fully covered modest clothing. One must have thought you're a hijabi, but the thing is you are a man." He didn't falter as I moved a step forward, pointing the flaming hot end of the rod to him. "How did you know my name? What are you doing at my house in the middle of the night? Are you a pervert?"

All of a sudden, there was a sharp hit at the rod, near my hand. The strong tremor of the rod send pain to my hand so I quickly let it go. He just threw something at me! I didn't even notice him moving! I was appalled, that's for sure, and distressed. What if he is not Bat-Man? My children are downstairs.

Boldly, I hurtled towards the dark-clothed man. I pulled my prosthetic arm back to throw a punch at his face, but he moved quickly, standing to my left.

"This is a waste of time," he said in his rough voice. "You don't have to worry about Cassandra Cain."

"I don't know a Cassandra Cain," I huffed as I turned around to face him. I was about to charge him with verbal insults but his next words stopped me.

"The mute girl."

"…Kid?" I mumbled. "Where is she? " I demanded. "What did you do?!"

"I am here to tell you that she is alright. She is safe. She wanted me to tell you that and to tell the others as well… Her friends."

Something about him made me believe his words. Even with fire and the lights on the rooftop, I couldn't see clearly his eyes. I want to see the emotions in them, at least.

"She should tell me or them, herself. Why would she ask you?" My heart sank when the thought of Kid refusing to see us anymore came into my mind.

Another strong wind came. The large man's black cape flapped harshly, but it didn't budged him. He is firm like a rock. But he is also agile like a hawk, when I witnessed his ability to avoid my punch. "I think you agree that saying goodbye is difficult," he told.

Well, that is not wrong. "But we…"

"Don't try to look for her again. It is for the best."

I looked down at my coarse palm and suddenly reminded the time Kid almost broke my finger. And the time I asked her to beat Troy's ass for being a meanie. But I want to see her; to see how she is doing. Those are the words I wanted to say to Bat-Man but when I looked up, he had disappeared.

I never knew that Bat-Man could so… rude.

Who the Hell does he think he is?

He just float away and left me, when we still have many things to discuss. I bet underneath that mask is a spoiled brat! Because his suit looks expansive. I wondered who he is. If I got my hands of him, I'll shake him by the collar and demand him to tell me where Kid is.

I arrived at a huge double door with a neatly-graved plate on it. I don't get why Bruce Wayne wanted to have an office when he is not the one who runs the business here. He is just the owner. I knocked at his door and opened it immediately without waiting for his permission. A pretty lady was entangled with Bruce on his leather couch. Both appeared shock and embarrassed.

"Geez. Sarah. What the Hell?" Bruce blurted, trying to regain his composure. The lady with long silky raven hair quickly rearranged her blouse and scrambled out of the office.

"Glad I'm interrupting something," I quickly said.

"I know we have known each other for so long but I am still your boss."

"Technically, Lucius is my boss. You're just the face of the company."

"Ouch." He held his chest. Then he ran his fingers through his hair. "And thanks," he smirked. He kept his grin as he stood up from the couch. "My good looking face should be known by all mankind."

"You don't have to worry about that because your face is all over the magazines and newspapers." I strode forward until we were about an arm length away. "I need a list of all of your male friends, around your age. With contact numbers and address. Men like you. The brattier the better," I said imposingly. "And he doesn't have to be handsome."

"And may I ask what is it for?"

"That is none of your business," I scoffed. Telling him about my mini-mission of searching for Bat-Man is out of question.

"You're demanding private information of my acquaintances and then tell me it's none of my business?"

I grabbed his collar and pulled him down to my level. "Do you want me to applaud you for just repeating what I just said? Ugh… the ego of a man." I rolled my eyes.

"Heeyy… chill." He circled his fingers around both my wrists. Feeling that I had overreact, I loosened my grip. And that's when I noticed that a few of his top buttons were undone. Peach coral colors smudged all over his neck and chest, no doubt from the lady's lipstick.

I recoiled and quickly let go of him. "Button up your shirt." I turned away to give him a few moments of fixing his cloth.

"Why do you need those names?"

"I want to find someone."

"You think these people know?"

"I'm not sure. But I'm going to find out…"

"Does this person want you to find him… or her?"

Slowly, I faced the owner of the multinational conglomerate. Sadness came over me. "Of course… I don't know… No… maybe," I rambled. "I just want to be certain. I just want to make sure she's okay."

"Maybe… you should trust her, whoever she is. If she doesn't want you to find her, maybe it's for the best." He shrugged. "Or tell me her name. Maybe I could help you. I've got many circles."

"No. You're right," I sighed. Kid is different from other people so how she learns, grows and deals with the world is within her pace and comfort. She is a survivor and a fighter. "Maybe I should just leave her on her own." It's probably for the best, just like what Bat-Man and Bruce had said. "Do you want me to call that HR lady again so you guys can continue where you left?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't mind it. Not in the mood."