The Woman Who Was Almost Me

My business was struggling in the worsening economic situation, but at least Baran's future remained secure. I found myself spending fewer days in the capital, dedicating more time to my family.

Negin was still obsessed with the past, constantly writing down notes and piecing together memories she had gathered. At the same time, she was still facing trouble with her father's family.

One evening, she returned from their house, and I immediately noticed the bruises and scratches on her skin. Blood had dried in thin lines where she had been struck. My stomach turned with rage.

"Who did this to you?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"My uncle," she muttered, her voice steady but exhausted.

That was it. There was no way I could stay silent. I told her to call them immediately. As she dialed, my anger burned through every word I spoke. I warned them—no, I threatened them—to never lay a hand on her again.

But they didn't care. Instead, they lashed back, attacking my entire family's reputation. They called us a "separated, messy, and immoral family"—people with no limits, no structure. As if their violence was some kind of discipline, and our freedom was the real crime.

I wanted to retaliate, to put an end to this, but I knew I had to think carefully. A rushed move could make things worse for Negin.

For now, I had to distract her, ease her mind from this weight. And I knew exactly what could help—our meetings with Laleh. They had always been a source of comfort for her, and right now, she needed that more than anything.

So, I made a plan. We would visit Laleh again. And this time, I would listen not just to the stories of the past, but to the future I needed to shape.

At Laleh's house, she did an incredible job calming Negin down. But as the tension faded, another kind of pain surfaced. Tears welled in her eyes, and she whispered, "I'm remembering the time we saw Dina after the assault."

I hesitated for a moment before asking, "Have you ever doubted the assault? Maybe… maybe she really cheated, got into an argument, and later regretted it?"

Laleh's expression darkened. "What makes you think of Dina like that? Like she was some kind of devil? Have you forgotten what we saw that day?"

I sighed. "Anything could have led to what happened. But… yes, I do believe it was really a rape. Still, sometimes, other thoughts cross my mind."

Before the conversation could settle, Negin suddenly spoke up. "Could we find her daily notes? The ones she sent to Aamz?"

I shook my head. "I doubt it. He's nowhere to be found. Even if we did track him down, he wouldn't share them."

Negin turned to Laleh. "Maybe if you try? Not Dorsa."

I hesitated but finally said, "Just try once."

Laleh sent a message to the last number we had for Aamz. To our surprise, he responded. But as expected, he rejected the request immediately.

"I deleted them all," he wrote. "Never even read them."

Laleh frowned. "Never read them?"

After that, he left the conversation without another word.

Laleh sighed and turned to us. "He never read them… and maybe he still convinces himself that Dina died on an operating table. Maybe that's the only thing that's allowed him to move on."

Silence settled between us, heavy with unanswered questions.

I said, "While I decided not to pursue him, it's still important to know more."

We reached out to people who might have information about him. Among them was Moeen. When we asked, he simply said, "I have no info. He cut me off. He basically removed me as a friend, just like that."

I asked, "Why do you think he did that?"

I already had a suspicion—Moeen had once had a crush on Dina, and that alone might have been enough for Aamz to distance himself.

Moeen didn't answer directly but instead gave us another lead. "You might want to check with Mr. Seresht. If anyone has any news, it's him."

I frowned. "I know him. He's my father's friend."

That made things easier. Now, it was time to see if Mr. Seresht held the missing pieces.

After much effort, I managed to arrange a meeting with Mr. Seresht—a man of considerable influence.

In his office, I got straight to the point. "Do you have any information about Aamz?"

He leaned back, smiling. "I really like that young man. He's very useful."

That caught my attention. Useful? In what way?

He continued, "He's in the final days of a project tied to his governmental and military duties. He's been talking about moving abroad soon… with his fiancée."

Fiancée.

The word echoed in my head. So, he was truly moving on, not just in life, but with someone new.

The thoughts clashed in my mind. On one hand, he had every right to build his life. But on the other, why did it have to be through connections my father had introduced him to?

If he wanted to progress, fine. But not as a tool of what my family had given him.

I took a deep breath and looked at Mr. Seresht. "So, he's planning to leave the country soon?"

He nodded. "That's what he says. He's wrapping things up here."

I felt a strange mix of emotions—anger, resentment, and something else I didn't want to name. If he was truly leaving, then maybe this was the last chance to settle things once and for all.

I turned to Mr. Seresht, my voice steady. "Can you arrange a meeting between us?"

He chuckled. "Obviously, you're like my daughter."

Something in me shifted at that moment. I quickly rethought my approach and said, "Umm… no, I don't want a meeting with him." I paused, then added with a smirk, "Also, why consider me your daughter? You're younger than my father."

He laughed. "Fair enough. It's just a way of saying I care."

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling. "I appreciate that. But let's focus on what matters. Tell me more about his work and this supposed fiancée of his."

Mr. Seresht studied me for a moment, then said, "His work is almost done here. As for the fiancée, I don't know much—only that she's from an intellectual family. He's moving up in life."

I crossed my arms, feeling a sting of something I didn't want to acknowledge. "Good for him," I said flatly.

Mr. Seresht leaned forward. "Why the sudden curiosity, Dorsa? You said you didn't want to meet him, but it sounds like you're still deeply involved in this story."

I hesitated. Was I? Or was this just unfinished business I needed to put to rest?

Something reignited in me. I looked at him and said, "Let's talk outside your office, Farhad."

I used his first name, and I could see the surprise flicker in his eyes.

He paused for a moment, clearly taken aback by my shift in tone. Then, with a slight nod, he stood up and led the way out of his office.

As we walked down the hallway, I could feel a tension building in the air between us. Whatever was going on—whatever thoughts and feelings were bubbling beneath the surface—I knew this conversation had taken a turn, and I wasn't sure where it would lead.

I was overwhelmed with questions about Aamz, but I kept them to myself, waiting for a better time to ask. Instead, I focused on trying to tempt him, though I couldn't shake the feeling of disgust I had towards myself. Yet, despite everything, something inside me drove me to act this way.

The days that followed felt different. It was as though I had crossed a line, and I couldn't tell if it was a line I should have crossed or if it would haunt me forever. But the pull of everything that had been left unresolved with Aamz still lingered, and the more I tried to bury it, the more it seemed to resurface.