3

Lost Across the World

The black van roared through the silent streets of Daegu. Inside, Ana lay unconscious, her small frame trembling slightly with every bump of the road. Her delicate blue dress was torn, her shoes gone — her little hands limp against the seat.

The men sitting beside her spoke in hurried whispers.

“Check the phone,” one said in Korean. “No one saw us?”

“Nothing yet,” the driver replied. “We leave Korea before sunrise.”

The van stopped near the port. The smell of salt filled the air — heavy, cold, and endless. A giant cargo ship waited in the dark water, its name painted in bold white letters. Cranes lifted metal containers under the dull glow of the moon.

They carried Ana onto the ship and locked her in a small steel room with no windows. The sound of the waves became her only companion.

---

Three Days Later — Somewhere Near China

When Ana woke, her head throbbed and her throat felt dry as sand. She blinked, confused — the world around her swayed gently. She could hear the sea, the crash of waves against the hull.

She whispered weakly, “Amma… Appa…?”

But only silence answered.

Hours turned into days. When the ship finally docked, the men dragged her out. The air was hot and heavy; the smell of fish and diesel filled her lungs. She didn’t know where she was — only that the signs were written in Chinese, and no one spoke her language.

They took her to a dark warehouse, gave her a little food, and left her there. The men drank and slept, laughing loudly.

Ana waited — and when one of them fell asleep by the door, she ran.

Her bare feet slapped against the wet pavement as she fled into the streets of a foreign land.

---

Two Months in China

She found herself in the crowded markets of Shanghai, hiding among the noise and people. She lived behind a food stall where an old woman cooked dumplings. Sometimes, Ana helped clean plates or fetch water, and in return, the woman would give her a bowl of soup.

She didn’t speak the language, but slowly she began to learn — words like ni hao (hello), xie xie (thank you), shui (water).

Every night, when the streets grew quiet and the neon lights dimmed, Ana would curl up behind the stall, hugging her knees and whispering,

“Amma, Appa… I’ll come home soon. I promise.”

But one evening, as she was washing dishes, she saw a familiar face — one of the men who had kidnapped her. He was walking through the crowd, scanning faces.

Fear froze her blood.

She dropped the bowl and ran.

The man shouted something in Chinese and started chasing her through the narrow alleys. Ana darted between stalls, her breath ragged, her heart pounding like a drum. She reached the docks — the cargo port — and hid behind stacked containers.

When she saw a ship about to leave, she climbed inside a crate full of grain and hid beneath the sacks. The door closed. The engine roared.

She didn’t know it then, but the ship was heading to Japan.

---

Six Months in Japan

Tokyo was bright — too bright for a lost soul.

Ana wandered the streets alone, wearing old clothes given by strangers. She slept in parks, under bridges, sometimes near temples where monks would leave her food.

She learned to speak a few Japanese words, enough to ask for water or rice.

But loneliness grew heavy inside her. Every night, she looked at the sky and whispered her mother’s name. Sometimes she cried silently, clutching a broken pendant — the other half of the gold chain she once wore in Daegu.

She missed her family.

Her father’s laughter.

Her mother’s warm voice.

Saba’s teasing smile.

But she refused to give up.

---

The Night of the Shadows

One night, rain fell hard over Tokyo. Ana sat under an old awning, shivering. Suddenly, a black car stopped near her. Four men stepped out, their eyes cold and cruel.

Before she could run, they grabbed her.

She screamed, kicked, and bit — but their hands were iron. They shoved her into the car.

When she woke again, she was far from Japan — the sounds outside were different, the air colder, the voices harsh.

She had been taken to Italy.

---

The Mafia House

The mansion was dark and terrifying, filled with men who spoke Italian and carried guns. They worked for the Valtore Mafia, one of the most feared families in Europe.

Ana was locked in a cellar, beaten when she disobeyed, forced to clean and serve. She was only nine — a child — but they showed no mercy.

Days turned to weeks.

Weeks turned to years.

Her body grew thin, her face pale, but her spirit refused to break. Each night, she marked the walls with scratches — counting the days since she was taken. Four years passed that way.

Yet deep inside, one thought kept her alive:

> “Appa will find me. He knows I’m waiting.”

---

Back in Dubai

In his grand office at the top of a glass tower, Kim Devid stared at a wall covered with maps and photographs. His once-bright eyes were darker now, filled with sorrow and determination.

The world called him powerful — but power meant nothing without his daughter.

Every resource of his empire was turned toward one mission: Find Ana.

He hired detectives, hackers, even ex-soldiers. His private jets flew to China, Japan, and beyond. Every whisper of a lead was chased like a storm.

Elena prayed every night, her tears soaking her pillow.

Saba, now grown, rarely smiled.

Zayn and Ayan spoke of their sister as if she were still in the next room.

Because in their hearts, they knew —

> Ana was alive.

And somewhere, across oceans and cities, she was still waiting for her father to find her.

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