Dilshad the Enchantress

Yemenat

Abil Hasanov

My cousin was a high-ranking state official. I saw him often, usually on the television screen. We had spent our childhood inseparable, and my mother never once made a distinction between us. Yet, as the years marched on, they pulled us apart inch by inch. The day eventually came when my cousin became one of the most prominent figures in the country. The higher he ascended the ladder of power, the further he drifted from our lives. Our encounters became a rarity.

One day, he called me from an unknown number. I picked up the phone with a sense of hesitation. The voice was familiar, though I recognized it only with difficulty. It was indeed my cousin. A thought immediately flashed through my mind: How did he get my number? And why is he calling now? When I answered, he greeted me with unexpected warmth and asked where I was. I told him I was at home, to which he replied:

“I am sending a car for you this instant. Please, come to me. I need you.”

I began to wonder what this cousin of mine, absent for so long, could possibly want from me. While I was lost in thought, the car arrived, its horn sounding outside my door. I climbed in, and the vehicle sped away. Minutes later, I was by his side. He was waiting for me in a lavish restaurant. From his visible agitation, I could sense the urgency of the moment. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, he began to pour out his troubles in a hurried breath.

“My cousin,” he began, “my affairs are no longer as they should be. Even His Excellency the Minister has ceased to speak with me frankly. As he grew distant, the visitors who once swarmed