I am looking for Shadi. She is not in the parking lot. I go through the narrow walkways of the storage rooms. She is leaning against the door to the last storage room, and it is very hard to see her in the dark.

“What on earth are you doing here?” I shout.

She puts her finger on her lips. “Shhh. Ida is going to find me!”

I yell, “Come on, get out!”

Her eyes widen. She steps further back. She is glued to the door. I point to the outside and tell her again to leave. My voice echoes in the hallway. Shadi is pouting and doesn’t take her eyes off me. I have forgotten that I am blocking the doorway like a giant, and she can’t get out.

Shadi loves hiding. She has a habit of crawling under the couches, crouching behind the bed, hiding in the linen closet. The day we moved in, she got lost among the furniture. I called her.

“Where are you hiding?”

She did not yet know her way around the house. So she said, “I don’t know where I am either.”

I told her to come out before she got used to those kinds of places. Before the smell of the basement gets in her head and stays there forever. I get closer to her, hold her shoulders. Why doesn’t she talk? Doesn’t she hear me?

She has gone mute. A muffled sound comes out of her mouth. I see the fear in her eyes. I recognize silent crying very well. Silent crying means that she cannot leave. Squatting, I hold my head in my hands. I hate for my daughter to be like me. I don’t want her to be like Maman or Shahla. I don’t go looking for similar traits, but others find them and readily present them to you. I don’t want Shadi to take after me.

I was afraid of the dark, the basement, and the shadows, afraid of Uncle Qadir, even Maman and Aunt Mahboub. That is why I kept silent. I would do anything to go unnoticed. Little by little, I got lost in my own world, and one day, I had to ask myself who I was. I grew up with the sense of being lost, a deep sense of bewilderment, with no hope of ever being found. But what is Shadi afraid of?

She slides and passes by me very quietly. I can’t move. Later, when we go upstairs, Shadi draws me with two big horns on my head and big teeth like a boar. Whenever I yell at her, she draws this picture and quietly places it in my way. For a moment, I forget why I am sitting there at this time of the day.