Chapter 29: The Trap Around the Mill

The next morning, the sun rose pale and cold over District 4.

At 6:00 AM, the big wooden doors of Farooq Flour Mills opened as usual. Hunza stood near the main gate, watching the young workers sweep the yard and check the heavy sacks of flour. Everything looked normal, but the air felt heavy and silent.

At 7:00 AM, the first big wooden wagon arrived to collect the morning shipment for the town market.

The driver, an old man named Cardo who had worked with Mr. Farooq for ten years, did not jump down from his seat with his usual warm greeting. His face was pale, and his hands shook as he held the leather reins.

Hunza walked over to the wagon, his brow furrowed. "Good morning, Uncle Cardo. The flour sacks are ready in the bay."

Cardo looked around nervously, making sure no one else was listening. He leaned down and spoke in a tight, frightened whisper.

"I can’t take the shipment today, Hunza," Cardo said, his voice trembling. "Two men in neat dark coats met me at the bridge at sunrise. They did not show any knives. They did not raise their voices. They just told me that if I cross the canal with Farooq’s flour today, my wagon will be taken and my horses will be sold."

Hunza’s eyes narrowed. "Who sent them? Was it Garin’s men?"

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"No," Cardo said, shaking his head fast. "They wore clean grey coats. They gave me this small silver coin with a snake mark on it. They said... tell Farooq his flour belongs to the new boss now."

Hunza took the silver coin. It felt ice-cold in his broad palm. On one side was the same symbol from the letter: a snake wrapped around a broken anchor.

"Go home, Uncle Cardo," Hunza said quietly, placing a warm hand on the old man's arm. "Keep your horses safe. We will fix this."

Ten minutes later, Hunza walked into Mr. Farooq’s small office. He set the silver coin flat on the wooden desk, right next to the ledger.

Mr. Farooq picked up the coin. His sharp eyes grew sad and tired as he looked at the mark.

"Three other drivers called off their deliveries this morning, Hunza," Mr. Farooq said softly. "The bakery in the central square canceled their flour order. The shopkeepers are scared. No one is getting hurt, but our business is completely frozen."

Hunza sat down in the wooden chair across from his boss. His broad hands rested firmly on his knees.

"This man is taking away our work, Mr. Farooq," Hunza said, his voice deep and steady. "He is not touching the homes, and he is not touching the women or children. But he is starving the mill. He wants to force Old Man Rashid to bow down."

Farooq let out a long, slow breath. "Rashid spent thirty years trying to forget his past, Hunza. He wanted to protect us from the ugly things he did when he was young. But now, his old life has come back to destroy everything we built."

Hunza stood up, his jaw set like solid stone. "Master Rashid cannot carry this secret alone anymore. He thinks he is protecting us by staying silent, but his silence is letting this shadow trap us. I am going to the watchhouse now, and I will not leave until he tells us the truth."

"I am coming with you," Mr. Farooq said, rising from his chair and grabbing his cane. "It is time for the elders to stop hiding."