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I t was time. I’d busted my arse to get into Oxford, so now it was time to leave my family behind in Egypt and go to university. It was supposed to be my first semester at Oxford, but I’d had a year of university back in Egypt and, thankfully, a good bit of my credits transferred.

I didn’t know a single person in England, but that was okay. I tended to get along with most people. My Baba said that would serve me well if I wanted to follow in his footsteps at the ENP or go into politics, but he knew I was happiest in a room full of dusty books.

I could handle England. At least, I thought I could. I deboarded my plane and went to baggage check to collect my luggage, but someone stopped me before I could even make it halfway there.

“Sir, can you follow me?”

“Is there some sort of problem?”

“Follow me, please.”

Was I being profiled? My Baba warned me it was a possibility and to not react, even if they upset me. He said I would have done nothing wrong and to only stick to the facts. And yeah, it upset me.

I was barely even off the plane in a new country, and they decided I was up to something just based on what I looked like. I was actually seething, but I’d give them nothing. I had done nothing wrong.

I tried to keep my fists to myself and not deck the guy who was manhandling me. I’d already gone through security in Egypt. If I had any type of weapon on me, they would have found it before I boarded. They took that kind of thing just as seriously as other countries.

“He’s got it.”

I had what? All I had on me were the clothes on my back and my phone in my pocket.

“Take him.”

“Take me where? I don’t have anything on me.”

They didn’t answer. I felt a prick as a needle slid into my neck. I had one thought before I blacked out.

I might be completely new to England, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t legal.