Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress

Chapter 23 - Experience?

Later that evening, Jamal lay on his bed, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the lamp on his nightstand. The air smelled faintly of fresh linen and the lingering scent of his cologne.

Since it was late in the night, the house was quiet, the kind of silence that made his thoughts louder.

And right now, all his thoughts were on Abigail.

He wondered how she was doing. If her stepsister was still making her life miserable. If she was adjusting to school. If she thought of him or missed him the way he missed her.

It frustrated him not knowing.

He hated being this powerless, unable to just show up at her doorstep and take her away from whatever mess she was stuck in.

Mariʼs suggestion from earlier replayed in his head. Getting someone to sketch Abigail and using that to track her down wasnʼt a bad idea.

It wasnʼt like he was broadcasting her face for dangerous reasons— she wasnʼt a fugitive, she was just a girl he cared about.

And they were going to go about it the smart way by having Mari act like she was the one who knew Abigail.

That shouldnʼt cause any trouble for Abigail. There was nothing wrong with a female friend reaching out to her. Her family certainly wouldnʼt give her trouble over that.

Even so, a part of him wasnʼt completely convinced but that was the only option left to try.

He sat up and reached for his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. Tariq – Artist.

Jamal clicked on the contact and pressed call.

It rang twice before a groggy voice answered.

”Bro, do you know what time it is?” Tariq mumbled.

”Yeah, itʼs past 10 pm but I know you accept business calls at any time. So, donʼt act like I disturbed your sleep else Iʼm taking the job elsewhere.”

Tariq sighed. ”Fair enough. I wasnʼt sleeping deeply, anyway. Whatʼs up?”

Jamal smirked. ”I need a portrait done. Fast.”

There was a pause. ”Of?”

”A girl.”

A low chuckle. ”Figures.”

Jamal rolled his eyes. ”Iʼll send you the details. Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, heart-shaped face...” He trailed off, picturing Abigail in his mind. Her warm, gentle eyes. The way her lips curved when she smiled. The way the bedside lamp caught the strands of her hair and made them glow as laid in bed chatting. He wanted it all captured perfectly.

One thing was for sure— he wanted a portrait of her for himself. He didnʼt just want to find her. He wanted to keep a piece of her close, even if it was only on paper for now.

Tariq hummed. ”Got it. You got a picture of her?”

Jamal sighed. ”No.”

”Damn. That makes it harder. But if you give me enough details, I can work with it.”

”How soon can you get it done?”

”If youʼre paying extra?” Tariq yawned. ”Three days.”

”Make it a day. Iʼll double your rate.”

Now Tariq was awake. ”Triple it and youʼd get it by noon tomorrow.”

”You got it,” Jamal said.

”Deal, man. Send me everything you remember about her. You can come over to the studio by noon.”

Jamal hung up and shot him a text with more details, then put his phone down. A slow breath left his lips as he stretched, feeling a bit more hopeful. Maybe this plan would work this time.

Just as he was settling into his thoughts again, a knock sounded at his door.

”Jamal, Iʼm coming in. You have a minute to cover yourself if youʼre naked because I donʼt wanna see your talala,” Mariʼs voice rang through the door.

Jamal let out a low chuckle. ”Iʼm decent. Come in.”

The door creaked open, and Mari stepped in, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She wore thick, oversized pajamas that did absolutely nothing for her figure. Her hair was tied into a messy bun, and she looked every bit the geek she denied being.

Jamal grinned. ”I swear, Iʼll never understand how you go from looking like a whole baddie outside to looking like...this inside the house.”

Mari rolled her eyes, plopping onto his bed. ”Because inside the house, I donʼt have to impress anyone. I can be myself.”

He raised a brow. ”Remind me again, what stops you from being yourself outside? Why do you need to impress anyone?”

She sighed dramatically. ”Jamal, my mom is the sensational Andy. The woman is a walking fashion statement. She oozes sex appeal merely by breathing. Do you know how weird it would be if I didnʼt at least try to match her vibe a little?”

”You donʼt have to. You put yourself under unnecessary pressure. My stepdad is Matt Swift, an A-list actor. You donʼt see me...”

Mari huffed, pulling a pillow onto her lap. ”Thatʼs easy for you to say. You werenʼt the kid who was constantly asked if you were sure your hot mom was actually your mom. Do you know how many people called me an ugly duckling growing up?”

Jamal shook his head. ”You were never ugly, Mari. And Iʼve always told you—donʼt let peopleʼs words define how you see yourself. Itʼs not the water around a ship that sinks it...”

”but the water that gets inside. Blah blah, I know, motivational speaker,” Mari smirked and finished for him, ”I didnʼt come here for your pep talk. Weʼve been through this argument countless times and as Iʼve always said, I donʼt think thereʼs any ground for comparison between us.”

Jamal leaned back. ”Why are you here when you should be in bed, anyway?”

She shrugged. ”No real reason. Just wanted to hang out. We leave for school in the morning, and I didnʼt want to waste the night.”

Jamal chuckled. ”And Emily? What is she up to?”

”Sheʼs studying.”

”Shouldnʼt you be studying as well?”

Mari scoffed. ”I have the whole semester to study. Spending the evening with you isnʼt going to make my grades drop. Besides, I donʼt need to study as hard as Emily. Iʼve got real-world experience thanks to my dad. I bet I have what it takes to be a cybersecurity lecturer if I wanted,” she said, and he chuckled, though he knew she wasnʼt merely bragging.

She hacked into computers for fun.

Jamal eyed her for a moment. ”So, why are you really here? You sure you donʼt want to say something? It feels like you have something on your mind.”

Mari grinned. ”You know me too well.”

Jamal groaned. ”I donʼt like that gleam in your eyes.”

She laughed. ”Relax. I just have a question.”

Jamal narrowed his eyes. ”If this is about a boy—”

”Itʼs not,” she cut in quickly. ”I just... wanted to ask about your experience.”

Jamal frowned. ”Experience?”

Mari gave him a pointed look. ”You know what I mean.”

His eyes widened slightly. ”Wait. Are you seriously asking me about sex?”

Mari burst out laughing. ”Not details! I just want to know if itʼs really as big a deal as people make it sound.”

Jamal ran a hand down his face. ”How am I supposed to explain that to you? Iʼm a guy. I donʼt think sex means the same to both genders.”

”Yeah, but as a guy, is it really all that?”

Jamal sighed. ”Mari, why not ask your Mom? Aunt Andy is blunt, so I know sheʼll give you a really good and detailed response.”

”Of course she has told me about sex. Since I was twelve. But she didnʼt exactly tell me how it feels. Thatʼs what I want to know. Besides you should know that hearing it from oldies isnʼt the same as hearing it from someone around your age.”

Jamal chuckled, ”Donʼt let her hear you refer to her as an oldie.”

”I wouldnʼt dare,” Mari agreed with a laugh. ”But seriously, is sex a big deal? Yes or no?”

Jamal shook his head. ”I will say it is something you need to experience for yourself. With the right person.”

Mari rolled her eyes. ”Blah blah, ʼright person.ʼ How did you know Abigail was the right person? Wasnʼt she just a stranger to you until you did it? Maybe I should borrow a page from your book and do that, too.”

Jamal shot her a sharp look. ”Donʼt even think about it.”

Mari smirked. ”Why are men so unnecessarily protective of their sisters and friends? Do I need to remind you that you did it with a girl my age?”

”Thatʼs different.”

”In what way?”

Jamal hesitated. ”It was Abigailʼs idea.”

Mari raised a brow. ”And it could be my idea too.”

Jamal groaned. ”You have no idea the kind of men you could meet. Abigail was lucky to meet me. What if it was someone dangerous?”

Mari rolled her eyes. ”Why do men act like only men can be dangerous? For all you know, Abigail couldʼve been the serial killer.”

Jamal exhaled, shaking his head. ”Youʼre giving me a headache. Go away.”

Mari giggled, ”Why? I thought we were having a really nice conversation. Iʼm enjoying myself.”

”Iʼm not,” Jamal said, and she grinned.

”Youʼre going to miss me when I leave,” she said and he nodded.

”Iʼd rather miss you than deal with the headache youʼre giving me right now.”

Before Mari could respond, the door swung open again. Jamal groaned when Emily walked in, and Mari giggled.

”Why are you here? Shouldnʼt you be studying or writing a story or whatever?” Jamal asked as Emily jumped on the bed trying to get between him and Mari.

”How do you expect me to concentrate on reading when you two are having all the fun? Besides, Iʼm done with my assignments,” she said with a grin and Jamal groaned.

Mari cackled. ”Looks like youʼre stuck with us for the night. Iʼm going to annoy the heck out of you for trying to throw me out.”

Jamal sighed dramatically. ”I canʼt wait for you both to leave.”

They just laughed, settling in for a long night of banter.