Chapter 75 Morning in Marrakesh
THIRD PERSON’S POV
“Are we ready to retire to bed, or do we want to explore the city some more?” Karim asked, after a long night his Arabic accent seemed to dominate the French.
“Yes please,” Serena breathed, "I'm so tired.”
After dinner they had decided to take a stroll and not long after they found themselves in a much calmer part of town, where couples and tourists moved about in small groups, buying street meat and affordable hijabs from roadside vendors. Then they wandered to the group of street artists playing what Karim called, “Gnawa Music,” which is played with deep rhythmic drums and metal castanets.
“What?” Trisha shrieked, “How are you tired already? We’ve barely done anything.”
“What do you mean? We’ve been walking for hours.”
“Hours, she says,” Damian teased, a small smile spread across his face.
“Serena, c’mon, we can’t end the night sober,” Oscar said, then immediately turned to Karim. “Karim, I know Morocco is a predominantly Muslim country but there has to be a place where I can get a glass of whiskey.”
“Well, there is sir,” Karim answered.
“Perfect, I also need some alcohol in my system,” Trisha chimed in. “Let’s go to the bar.”
Serena made a face, but she didn’t want to ruin anybody’s night so she just nodded and whispered, “Fine.”
Damian noticed her discomfort when she said those words so he stepped in calmly, “Alright then, I’ll walk Serena back to the hotel, since I also have some work emails to attend to. While Karim will take Trisha and Oscar to where they can get alcohol.”
Serena's eyes lit up, she mouthed a silent thank you to him.”
At the hotel, while in the elevator, Damian’s voice was loud and clear when he said, “I know you said you were not in the mood for alcohol, but perhaps I can put you in the mood for something else,” he added, winking at her as he slowly rolled his tongue across his lower lip, wetting it.
Serena’s breath hitched, but she quickly caught herself. Clearing her throat, she said, “Follow me to my room and find out.”
Right then the elevator stopped, the doors opening to the hotel’s penthouse and without another word, Serena stepped out and moved into the penthouse hallway, heading straight for her assigned room. Damian didn’t wait for a second invitation; he followed closely behind, slipping through the room door right after her.
The mornings in Marrakech were very different from the nights. Waking up just before sunrise to the call of prayers drifting through the air from a nearby mosque.
Serena stretched and walked to the open window, her eyes fell on the big balcony that looked over the city.
She shut her eyes; in Monterra balconies had signified her moment of helplessness, her moment of death. But gently she dragged in a deep breath, Serena moved past the window and to the door instead, and turning the knob, she stepped onto the balcony, the cold tiles cooling her warm feet.
Serena decided she wasn’t going to let the one bad experience she had on a balcony stop her from enjoying the beautiful views that balconies usually present.
Choosing to create a better memory, she strolled to the balcony and gently wrapped her hands around the rails, leaning forward to look over it. She was right, the sight was breathtaking. Below, men walked quickly with their mats and kettles as the voice of the Alfa flowed faster through the speakers, rising and falling, signifying the progression of the prayers in the mosque.
Birds chirped in the air, a pigeon even perched on the rail next to Serena, and she let her mind slowly drift to Monterra, someone had pushed her off that balcony in her previous life, and she was nowhere close to figuring out who it was.
Trisha was convinced Clara and Jonathan pushed her but other than denial, Serena had a strong feeling in her gut that as much as her sister hated her she wouldn’t stoop to killing her. She also created excuses for Horace and Jonathan as to why they wouldn’t kill her but all that left her with was the question of who if not them then who? Who else hated her apart from those two?
Her phone dinged in the room letting her know she had received a message but she didn’t want to leave that spot just yet. She couldn't remember how long she had stood there but by the time Serena blinked the first ray of sunlight had started to stream in through the clouds.
The morning light was golden and gentle, warming the burnt orange walls of the Medina.
Remembering her phone had rung earlier, she went back to the room to pick it up. The screen lit up with notifications, one was a link to an Instagram post from Trisha tagging her in a photo of them having dinner at Dar Al Noor, Damian’s hands hung loosely over Serena's shoulders while Trisha sat between Karim and Oscar with both hands up in a peace sign.
The caption below the picture read ‘Lanterned life in the big M.’
Serena chuckled, Trisha always had the weirdest captions to her posts.
The second notification was also a link to an Instagram post from Oscar, Serena’s blood pressure spiked immediately the video started to play. Oscar and Trisha had found themselves on a rooftop bar, in the video she was straddling over his legs and pouring a bottle of champagne straight into his willing mouth.
Immediately she turned to Damian who was still fast asleep in the bed. She had to confirm that Oscar hadn’t forwarded the same video to him, Damian was already getting suspicious of their closeness.
She tiptoed around the bed to where Damian’s phone lay face down on the bedside table. Picking it up she swiped up and to her surprise the phone opened. What kind of person didn’t have a password on their phone, she thought.
Thankfully there had not been any Instagram notifications from Oscar.
By the time she walked back onto the balcony, the sun was fully out now, storekeepers slowly lifting their metal shutters and sweeping the dust from their doorways.
“Of course,” she muttered, smacking herself on the forehead. “I didn’t check the last notification,” she said to herself as she went back to retrieve the phone from the room.
When she tapped on the final notification, she paused mid-step. A cold unease crept through her chest as she read the message.
UNKNOWN: GOOD AFTERNOON, EXPECT AN UNWELCOME INTERRUPTION.
The room suddenly fell unnaturally quiet, it wasn't even afternoon yet.