The Missing Man
Chapter 03 - The Missing Man
Liora did not obey.
She waited until the men disappeared around the corner, then ran barefoot to Dinah’s house with her mother’s shawl clutched in one hand.
Her aunt opened the door wearing a night robe and a look of irritation that vanished the moment she saw Liora’s face.
“What happened?”
“They took her.”
Dinah pulled the girl inside. “Who?”
“Temple guards. Malachi was with them.”
Dinah went still.
Liora hated that stillness. Adults became still when they already knew something terrible.
“They said there were witnesses,” she continued. “They said my mother—”
The word would not come.
Dinah closed the door and slid the bar into place.
“Sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit.”
“Liora.”
“I want to know where they took her.”
Dinah wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. She was Mara’s older sister by nine years, broad-faced and practical, a widow who sold dyed wool and believed most problems could be improved by food, work, or telling an arrogant man exactly what she thought of him.
But now her hands shook.
“To the temple,” she said.
“Then we go there.”
Dinah looked toward the window.
“If the charge is what I think—”
“They only took her.”
The words came out sharper than Liora intended.
Dinah frowned. “What do you mean?”
“There was a man.”
Liora had not known until the question left her mother’s mouth.
Where is he?
Now the question filled the room.
Dinah gripped the edge of the table.
“Did you see him?”
“No. But Mother asked. Malachi wouldn’t answer.”
A long silence passed.
Then Dinah moved quickly.
She tied her sandals, filled a small skin with water, and took a heavy outer wrap from a peg.
“Go to the back room,” she told Liora. “There is a blue dress in the chest. Put it on. Cover your hair.”
“We’re going?”
“We are finding out why only one person was taken.”
They reached Mara’s house as the sun edged above the roofs.
The door hung open.
Inside, a stool had been overturned. A cup lay broken near the sleeping mat. Nothing else appeared disturbed.
Dinah walked slowly through the rooms.
Liora followed.
On the courtyard tiles, rainwater from the night before had collected in shallow hollows. Beside the wall lay a man’s leather tie, the kind used to fasten an outer cloak.
Dinah picked it up.
“Is this your father’s?”
“No.”
“Have you seen it before?”
Liora stared at the leather.
There had been a man who visited sometimes when Ezra was away. Josiah ben Reuben, a merchant who traded cedar oil and wine. He always spoke kindly to her. Once he brought dried dates from Jericho.
She had not thought kindness could be evidence.
“It might belong to Josiah,” she said.
Dinah’s expression hardened.
“Where does he live?”
Near the eastern gate, Josiah’s house stood behind a high plastered wall.
His servant answered after the third knock.
“My master is not receiving visitors.”
Dinah held up the leather tie.
“Tell your master that Mara’s sister has something he misplaced.”
The servant’s eyes flickered.
That was enough.
Dinah pushed past him.
They found Josiah in the inner courtyard, dressed for travel. Two servants were loading bags onto a mule.
When he saw Liora, the color left his face.
“Why are you here?”
“My mother was taken,” Liora said.
Josiah glanced toward the gate.
“I heard there was trouble.”
“Trouble?” Dinah repeated. “Is that what you call men carrying stones?”
He lowered his voice. “You should leave.”
“Not until you come with us.”
His wife appeared in the doorway behind him.
Naomi was perhaps thirty, younger than Mara, with a sleeping child in her arms.
“What is happening?” she asked.
Josiah did not turn.
Dinah looked at him with disgust.
“They took Mara alone,” she said. “You know why.”
Naomi’s face changed.
Josiah stepped toward Dinah. “Be quiet.”
“Why? Your household deserves silence while my sister is dragged through the streets?”
“This was arranged.”
The words slipped out.
Everyone froze.
Dinah’s eyes narrowed. “What was arranged?”
Josiah looked toward Naomi, then at Liora.
“I was told no harm would come to her.”
Liora felt the courtyard move beneath her.
“Who told you?”
He said nothing.
Dinah grabbed his sleeve.
“Who?”
“Malachi.”
Naomi made a sound as though she had been struck.
Josiah pulled free.
“They wanted proof. They said the teacher would be exposed, that Mara would be frightened and released. I never agreed to stones.”
“You agreed to let them find you together,” Dinah said.
He looked away.
Liora could hardly breathe.
“You used her.”
“No.”
“You let them take her.”
“I thought—”
“You thought you could keep your wife, your house, your trade, and let my mother carry all of it.”
Josiah’s mouth opened.
No answer came.
From the street beyond the wall, a temple horn sounded.
Dinah turned toward the noise.
The first call of the morning assembly.
Liora looked at the bags on the mule.
“He’s leaving,” she said.
Josiah took a step toward her. “Liora, listen to me—”
She picked up a clay cup from the table and threw it against the wall beside his head.
It shattered.
The child in Naomi’s arms began to cry.
Liora stared at Josiah through sudden tears.
“If she dies,” she said, “every morning you wake beside your family, you will remember that you traded her life for yours.”
Then she ran.
Dinah followed her into the street.
May you like
Behind them, Josiah called her name once.
But he did not come after them.
