Wendy called on Mikael’s private number to say that the police had been in touch and had asked that he call them.
‘Thank you.’
He did not relay the news to Layla, and neither did she ask what the call was about; instead they drove in near silence, but as the city approached she turned the radio on.
‘Don’t.’
Mikael went to turn it off but she stopped him.
‘Let me hear.’
She was the headlines.
He heard her snort as the newsreader said that Princess Layla of Ishla suffered from seizures and might need urgent medical attention, but her mirth turned to a strangled sob as an interview with her father was played.
Even before the translation Mikael could hear grief and bewilderment in the old King’s voice.
The translation even procured a sniff from Mikael—for, as cynical as he was, and as much as he wanted to be angry with the man, he could hear the love.
‘I love my daughter; she is my most precious possession. Please, Layla, come back to your family. Please, whoever is hiding her, make sure she is safe. There is nothing for me if there is no Layla.’
Then there was a statement that said if there was no news by morning the King would travel to Australia to help in the search for his daughter.
It would be morning in Ishla in a few short hours, and at the sound of her father’s promise Layla issued her instructions.
‘Drop me near the hotel that Trinity and Zahid are staying at.’
‘I’m not just dropping you off,’ Mikael balked. ‘I will come and speak with your brother.’
‘No!’ she shouted. ‘No, you will not!’
‘You really think I’m just going to let you out of the car and drive away…?’
‘If you care about me that is exactly what you will do.’
It wasn’t supposed to end like this, Layla thought, resting her head on the window. It was supposed to end happily; she was supposed to leave smiling.
She wanted to cry, wanted Mikael to turn the car around and drive her to his home, but she must never let him see that.
‘Here!’ she said as they passed the café where she and Mikael had once shared breakfast. She knew the way to their hotel from there. ‘Drop me here.’
‘I can’t just—’
‘It was fun,’ she interrupted, her heart breaking. ‘Can we please just keep it at that?’
‘Layla—’
‘Please,’ she broke in, ‘stop the car and let me out.’
It was the hardest thing she had ever done.
Followed by the hardest thing Mikael had ever done.
Watching her get out and simply leave.
* * *
He walked into chambers and didn’t even have to tell Wendy not to speak. One shake of his head was all she got and he stepped into the cool dark of his office, trying to fathom that a few days ago he hadn’t even known her.
The best thing that had ever happened in his life had gone and he had had no choice but to let her go.
He felt as if there had been a death.
Yet he’d never mourned like this before.
He was breathing hard, just trying to get used to the idea of fifty or so years on the same planet as Layla without ever seeing her, when his intercom buzzed.
He ignored it.
‘Mikael?’ Wendy knocked at his door.
‘I don’t want to hear it!’ he shouted, and then turned as the door opened.
‘Yes, you do,’ Wendy said. ‘The café where you have breakfast just called. Layla’s there, apparently. They saw her on the news but instead of calling the police they have called you.’
‘Tell them to take her out to the back!’
‘They’ve tucked her away in a booth and put reserved signs on all the tables near her. Layla doesn’t know that they’ve called you.’
Mikael ran.