Someone Has to Die by Jim Baton

Author:Jim Baton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
ISBN: 9781616389239
Publisher: Charisma House
Published: 2012-06-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 45

BALI WAS SHOPPING for a bracelet for Sari when his mother text-messaged him to come straight home. What’s got her in a tizzy this time? A mouse in the kitchen? Because Syukran and I haven’t started painting for Ibu Aaminah yet? Why can’t she just let me live my own life?

But this time Ibu Siti had something much more significant to talk about. She started before Iqbal even made it all the way through the front door.

“The police were just here! They were looking for Syukran again. I told them I didn’t know where he was. They said they’d be back at night to arrest him!”

“For what, Mom? He wasn’t anywhere near the fire. Wasn’t he here sleeping?”

“He sleeps in your room! Was he here or not?”

Iqbal tried to remember the night of the fire. He vaguely remembered hearing the banging on the light pole, but he’d just rolled over and gone back to sleep. Was Syukran there or not?

“They told me if we don’t want Syukran to go to jail we better have an envelope ready when they come back at night.”

“An envelope? You mean a bribe?”

“Yes, what else! They said twenty million! Where are we supposed to get twenty million? I’m not sure we can even afford to pay the hospital bill when your dad gets out in a few days. If we sold everything we own we couldn’t raise twenty million! It’s not even our fault. My husband tried to stop the fire; doesn’t that count for something? It’s all the Christians’ fault! If that idiot Kris had known enough to get out of the building, Dad wouldn’t have gotten burned, and we wouldn’t be bankrupt right now, and the police wouldn’t even be bothering with us. What do they expect us to do? Twenty million!”

Iqbal could never understand his mom’s logic when she was upset. He tried to calm her down.

“Mom, sit down. Let me get you a drink. I’ll get changed, and we’ll go see Dad. He’ll know what to do.”

Siti collapsed on the couch, moaning and mumbling incoherently. Iqbal went to the kitchen for a glass of water. He had little patience with his mom’s hysterics, but he was concerned about Syukran. Could my little brother really have been involved in such an evil deed?

He came back with the water, then went to change his clothes. If only I could talk to my mom about forgiveness, but she isn’t nearly sane enough.

Iqbal picked up his phone to text message Syukran that he probably shouldn’t sleep at home for a while.

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