The lobby of the "Baasher" hotel was a small area for welcoming guests. To the left of the entrance was a lounge for four people. Two old sofas, covered in cracked chocolate-colored leather, seemed to gaze at each other, oblivious to the coffee table between them. On the right, along the wall, stood a battered luggage cart with a wheel wrapped in tape. The walls were adorned with mediocre paintings by an unknown artist, depicting wild animals at a watering hole. Among the images of elephants, zebras, and giraffes, there were also portraits of Sudanese political figures. An interesting combination.

  The incense from the burning aromatherapy sticks filled the entire room. The culprit behind the even distribution of the scents of frankincense, sandalwood, and myrrh hung from the ceiling. It was a colorful, enormous fan that had been spinning non-stop for what felt like an eternity. Of course, the focal point of attention was the reception desk! It stood out with its severity and importance, as if signaling who was in charge and making the decisions. On the wall behind the desk hung three identical analog clocks, displaying the time in New York, Khartoum, and Tokyo. On the scratched tabletop, a solitary metal service bell sat. One of the staff members silently stood behind the reception desk, casting a lost gaze down at the floor.

  A minute ago, John left the hotel grounds, leaving Nusayr alone to face an entirely new life situation. The concierge was in complete disarray, and his thoughts were creating absolute chaos in his mind. Nusyer pondered what would happen to him if he were exposed. What if John got caught and confessed to everything? Then, it would mean that he, Nusyer, would be imprisoned as an accomplice. What would happen to his family? He even considered that he would never again find a decent job in his life, let alone a position in a hotel.

  At the same time, he kept glancing at his phone, hoping that his friend Said would call. He couldn't break the promise he had made to John! What if his life depended on it? Why had he become so attached to this stranger? It was clearly not just about his brother... No, that was part of it too... but there was something more... Something that Nusair couldn't quite explain to himself. He felt an inner burning, an inexplicable sense that he was doing everything right. He had never experienced such a strong feeling before. All his pressing problems seemed trivial and insignificant; he felt a kind of power within him, bursting to break free and ready to sweep away everything in its path.

  The sharp sounds of the desk bell shattered the silence.

  "Don't sleep!" was the first thing Nusyir heard, and he literally fell back into reality. He saw an officer in front of him and five soldiers behind him.

  — Excuse me, sir! I closed my eyes for just a minute, but I heard everything, I was fully aware — Nussier lied. He heard no one and did not understand what state of mind he was in.

  — My men will search the hotel, and I will ask you a series of questions — the officer stated in a commanding tone.

  — Yes, of course! I am at your service. Your people can start inspecting the hotel. I assure you that no one has entered or exited the hotel since the incident.

  — We don't need your permission! — the officer said, looking at Nusiere with contempt and gesturing for the soldiers to follow his orders.

  These words returned the concierge to a state of helplessness and insignificance. He felt utterly small and unnecessary. He longed to get home quickly, close the door, and hide under the blanket. Nevertheless, Nussier gathered himself and prepared to answer all questions according to the scenario he had devised. He understood that since they were here, it meant John was still at large, so he needed to act according to the legend.

  The soldiers hurried to the second floor, while the officer invited Nusiere to the lounge area of the lobby for questioning. Opposite Nusiere sat a young Sudanese man, around twenty-five to twenty-seven years old. Judging by the stars on his epaulettes, he was a lieutenant in the armed forces. He was slender, like all the locals, with dark brown eyes deeply set in their sockets. His typical appearance for this region was marked by pronounced cheekbones and thin, unpleasant little mustaches.

  The officer's appearance did not inspire trust. He was a cunning and calculating individual, wholeheartedly believing in the ideology of the army and the government without question. Moreover, he was willing to go to great lengths for a promotion and to defend that very ideology, which did not belong to him. At least, that was the "label" that Nusyer attached to him after their first impression.

  — So. You claim that a certain John from Australia jumped out of the window and escaped when you went up to the second floor of the hotel with him to open his room. Is that correct?

  — Affirmative.

  — Why did you go up with him? Why didn't you just hand over the key?

  Stolen novel; please report.

  — These are the hotel rules. We always escort guests to their rooms — Nusier replied, concealing his excitement but sounding quite confident.

  — Are you saying that he actually checked into the hotel with the group yesterday? Is there a record of this in the log?

  — Yes, that's correct. New guests checked in yesterday, but it wasn't my shift, and I didn't recognize him. Should I bring the logbook? — Nussier jumped up to fetch the logbook, clearly bluffing.

  But the officer besieged him:

  — Sit down! We'll see later. And where are his other companions?

  — I don't know. Maybe they also set out to look for him? Or they moved on further along their route.

  — Our people have scoured the entire area and even a larger expanse. But they found no signs of the fugitive or his group. No one has seen him — the officer paused chillingly, drilling Nusiere with his gaze. — Except for you. If we find him here, you will be charged as an accomplice. You will face prison. Do you understand that?

  — Yes. But believe me, I am telling the truth and I genuinely want to help you. Otherwise, I would have already run away, but I waited for you here, understanding the consequences of wrong actions — Nussier replied logically.

  — That's very reasonable. Can you describe what this person looked like? Did you notice anything unusual about their behavior?

  — It was a man in a jalabiya and sneakers, with some kind of cloth wrapped around his head. He had a European appearance, stood about one hundred eighty centimeters tall, and had gray-blue eyes. I didn't notice any tattoos or moles. An ordinary tourist dressed in our national attire.

  Nusser spoke the plain truth, as the soldiers had already seen John.

  — Alright. Let's check the records in the log and continue.

  They got up from the couch and headed towards the reception. Nusiara was starting to feel a wave of panic, as there were no records. How was he supposed to explain this? The image of a solitary cell with a filthy toilet, a small window, bars, and a metal bowl with a substance that barely resembled food flashed before his eyes again. He saw himself on the floor of that cell, curled up in a ball, quietly waiting out his days. The horror of the scenario consumed his entire consciousness. The silence, which seemed to Nusyer to last forever, was broken by the loud ringing of the phone.

  They both stopped, looking at each other.

  — Why are you hesitating?! Pick up the phone! It might be him! — the officer barked.

  After a moment's hesitation, Nussier hurried to the phone.

  — Baasher Hotel, how can I help you? — Nusier said in an anxious yet clear voice. At that moment, the officer pressed his ear to the telephone receiver to hear the conversation on the other end of the line.

  — As-salamu alaykum, Nusayr! This is Said. Did you call me about twenty minutes ago? I saw a missed call from you. Is something wrong?

  "Twenty minutes ago!!! Why did you say that out loud?! Alright, I need to come up with something..." In despair and fear, Nusiere's thoughts shifted from hopelessness to courage.

  — Wa-‘alayk as-salam, Said! Yes, I called. We have an incident here! Some foreigner jumped right out of the second floor of the hotel; he escaped from the military.

  — Which military are you talking about? I don't understand anything!

  — I'll tell you everything later. I just wanted to warn you that he might be dangerous. Be careful! By the way, have you seen anything suspicious? White men of European appearance?

  — No... You said he was alone?

  — Yes. But he might have come here as part of a group... At least, that's what he said. Anyway, if you notice any suspicious white people, give me a call!

  — Alright. But in our port, every third person is white, and they all seem suspicious. I don't like them.

  "He's even given away his location! What a fool!" Nussier fumed at his innocent friend. The concierge quickly hung up the phone and looked up at the officer, who was staring at him with a piercing gaze. He clearly suspected something. Nussier decided to take the initiative.

  — This is my friend, Said. He works at the port, as you already figured out. I called him almost immediately after your people left. I was very scared and decided to warn my only friend.

  — You don't look scared... Who else did you call? — the officer squinted sarcastically, anticipating a revelation.

  — To no one, sir! I've already calmed down. Besides, you're here! That means I'm safe — Nussier flattered.

  — What about family? Why didn't you call them? You do have a family, right?

  — Yes. But my wife works in the field, and she doesn't have a phone.

  — Clear. Either you're a frivolous fool, or you're lying very skillfully, which means you're in cahoots with the fugitive and decided to warn your friend to help him hide in the port! Am I right?! — the officer pressed confidently, raising his voice.

  A cold shiver ran down Nusiere's spine. A huge lump rose in his throat, and terror paralyzed his entire body. "How accurately he 'drew' everything! Insightful bastard! But not all is lost; these are just his guesses. I am not caught yet! That means there is hope!" Nussier marveled at his own courage and optimism.

  — Believe me, I am telling the truth, sir! I am here to help you! I have never broken the law and...

  Before Nussier could finish his excuses, one of the soldiers burst out from the second floor staircase.

  — We found nothing, lieutenant! We searched every corner of all the rooms. It's clean — he reported.

  Following him, four more armed men descended. A dead silence fell over the lobby. Nusiere felt as if even the clock on the wall had stopped. The officer paused for a moment, staring at the floor. Then he looked at Nusiere, then at the soldiers, and then back at the concierge.

  — I'm sure you're hiding something! And I will definitely find out! Pray that I'm wrong!

  Nusyer swallowed hard, once again envisioning the consequences that awaited him. The lieutenant slowly turned to the soldiers, who immediately stood at attention.

  — Listen to my command! You two, go to the port via the waterfront. You — take the main street towards the highway. I will head straight to the port. Sergeant! You will stay here to guard the concierge; he is now a suspect in complicity.

  Everyone except the sergeant moved towards the hotel exit. The last words of Officer Nussier sent a shiver through him, and he stood in quiet horror at his new status as a suspect. One thought echoed in his mind: "This is the end. The game is over..."

  Nussier is playing a dangerous game. One wrong word, and the 'life of his true self' might end in a Sudanese prison cell. But as long as the military is searching the hotel, it means John is still out there.

  The stakes are rising. If you're rooting for the world's most stressed concierge, let me know in the comments! And don't forget to Follow for the next twist in the Paradox.