Omer watched Ali lead Amanah towards his vehicle. He waved as they drove away, then remained standing on the pavement for a moment, his hands in his pockets, taking in the wide streets and the surrounding buildings.
He inhaled slowly. The damp air carried an added chill, settling against his face and hands.
His gaze shifted towards the boutique across the street, the same place where he had earlier noticed that mannequin... or man... beyond the glass wall of the café.
The sounds of passing vehicles filled the damp air. The smell of wet pavement mingled with aromas drifting from nearby eateries and shops.
Omer stood there for another moment.
Then he turned and walked towards his Mercedes-Benz E-Class.
He slid into the driver's seat, started the engine and switched on the heater.
Warm air soon filled the cabin, but an inexplicable prickling sensation crept up the back of his neck.
He pulled his jacket collar tighter and eased the Mercedes onto the road.
Then something caught his attention.
The same figure.
This time, he was not standing across the street.
He was on the pavement just beyond the café, slightly ahead of its frontage.
Omer slowed instinctively.
He lowered himself slightly in his seat.
The man stood there.
Motionless.
The same dark raincoat.
The same low-brimmed hat.
The same dark glasses.
But this time, he was much closer.
Omer narrowed his eyes, studying the figure through the driver's side window as the Mercedes crept past.
To anyone watching, he might have looked like a driver searching for an address.
In reality, he was trying to get a better look at the man, or whatever the figure was.
Then the man's head turned slightly towards him.
Omer's breath caught.
Not a mannequin.
A man.
Or at least, that was what he appeared to be.
Before Omer could react, the figure suddenly ducked around the corner and disappeared.
Omer stared at the empty spot.
Nothing.
Only the wet pavement remained.
He forced himself to look back at the road.
His hands tightened around the steering wheel.
Was I being watched?
Yet again...
The heater continued blowing warm air, but Omer barely felt it.
As the Mercedes carried him away from the area, his mother's gentle words about guardian angels returned to him.
For some time now, they had offered him little comfort.
********************************
Ali's black Honda Civic moved steadily along the damp main artery, its tyres whispering over the wet road.
For a while, neither Ali nor Amanah spoke.
Amanah sat quietly beside him, rubbing her hands together as she looked through the windscreen at the freshly washed pavements and streets.
“Thank God the rain ended before flooding the streets,” she remarked.
Ali smiled faintly.
“It wasn't raining that heavily for long.”
“Still. It was enough to make everything miserable.”
Ali kept his attention on the road.
Amanah remained silent for another few moments.
Then she turned towards him.
“Your friend...”
Ali glanced at her.
“He appeared a bit uneasy earlier.”
Ali kept his attention on the road.
“Does he really dread driving through wet streets?”
Amanah turned towards him.
Ali shook his head.
“I know him well enough to read him. He's an expert driver. He drives through darkness, forests, difficult terrain... and much worse than this.”
He slowed the vehicle as they approached a traffic signal.
“He wasn't worried about getting home.”
Amanah looked at him.
“Then what was he worried about?”
Ali shook his head.
“I don't know yet. But I'm certain it wasn't the rain.”
Amanah inhaled slowly.
“Could it have been because of Mr Raza Haider's dubious past? Maybe what we found today upset him?”
Ali shifted gears as the signal turned yellow, then green.
“Honestly, Amanah, we were expecting far worse about his past than what we managed to unravel today. None of it is serious enough to explain why Omer would become increasingly upset.”
He paused.
“But I did notice that he was disturbed. If not completely upset, then certainly troubled.”
Amanah looked at him for a moment.
“Ali... aren't you upset?”
“Upset wouldn't be the word to describe my feelings either.”
He glanced briefly at her before returning his eyes to the road.
Amanah said nothing.
She understood that Ali had no intention of saying more, and neither of them seemed inclined to continue the conversation.
The rest of the journey passed in silence.
********************************
Omer's Mercedes-Benz E-Class glided smoothly along the wet streets.
His home was barely a seven-minute drive from the area, but the traffic on the damp roads had stretched the journey to more than ten minutes.
He recited Ayat-ul-Kursi quietly beneath his breath, not because of the wet roads, but because of the lingering anxiety he couldn't quite shake.
He found himself checking the rear-view mirror more often than the road ahead.
Should I be worried... or should I just brush it off as something mundane?
Like I've always done.
The sensation he was experiencing wasn't new.
But today, it felt different.
Or, more precisely, much harder to ignore.
Did that mannequin duck away because it realised I had noticed it?
Or did it duck away because someone else saw it?
Was there another car nearby?
Someone watching?
Omer pressed his temple briefly with one hand before returning it to the steering wheel.
The questions refused to settle.
His Mercedes was now moving towards his residential society.
As he passed through the gated entrance and headed towards his home, he finally let out a long sigh.
I never thought coming back home could feel this gratifying.
He parked the Mercedes in the expansive porch and sat there for a moment, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel.
Man... you need to train your heart to beat rapidly only when there's an actual reason for it.
He shook his head with a faint smile.
These adrenaline kicks are getting far too frequent.
He finally switched off the engine.
So... was it because of Mr Haider's crazy, twisted, obscure academic discrepancies?
He paused.
Or because of what my eyes saw... and what my instincts were telling me?
Another pause.
Or was it because of her?
The last thought brought an involuntary smile to his face.
“Ali is going to kill me.”
********************************
Soon after they reached home, Ali dialled Omer.
There was no answer.
"Maybe he's still on the way,” Ali muttered.
"But Omer's house isn't that far from the café."
He dialled again.
This time, the call was answered.
“Thank God.” Ali leaned back. “Omer... you reached?”
“Yeah.”
There was a slight pause before Omer added, “I'm home.”
“Now tell me, man... what was bugging you back at the café?”
“Bugging me?”
Omer's voice came a little too quickly.
Then he laughed.
“Ali... you called to inquire about that?”
“Yes.”
Ali's voice was completely unfiltered.
“And don't act innocent. Amanah and I both noticed it.”
For a moment, Omer said nothing.
Then he drew a slow breath.
“You're overthinking it, man.”
“Really?”
Ali's voice carried a faint note of sarcasm.
“Yeah.”
Omer was trying to sound reassuring, but even he could hear how forced it sounded.
“It was just the weather... and the man.”
Ali frowned.
“No... it wasn't the weather. And certainly not the unease about driving through wet streets.”
He paused.
“But the man... which man are you talking about?”
His voice became more probing.
Omer realised he had said too much.
“I mean...” He hesitated. “That man. Mr Haider. Who else? Obviously, the subject of our investigation.”
Ali remained silent for a moment.
There was something about the way Omer had corrected himself that didn't sit right with him.
“You know I hate it when you keep things to yourself,” Ali said quietly. “Especially when you deliberately make something serious sound like it means nothing.”
A faint laugh came from the other end.
“Stop sounding like Mom, okay?”
“So... you're not going to tell me?”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“No,” Omer finally said. “Not right now.”
Ali's eyes narrowed slightly.
Before he could press him further, Omer deliberately changed the subject.
“How's your collaboration going with that mysterious lady?”
Ali caught the manoeuvre immediately.
But he let it pass.
“Noor Ain has finally started treating me like a human being.”
Omer chuckled.
“Oh... so no more awkward stares and falling files?”
“No.” Ali laughed. “She's actually showing progress. She has even taughg me the details of a few procedures. Concrete pouring, reinforcement, things like that.”
“Oh, that's a major leap.”
“It is.”
A brief silence followed.
Then Ali's voice softened.
“Omer... I'm a good listener. You know that...”
There was a pause.
Omer straightened in his armchair.
“So... if you eventually want to talk about whatever it was that both Amanah and I noticed today...”
Omer held his breath.
“...if it really wasn't just us overthinking things...”
Omer didn't interrupt, though he wanted to.
“...you can call me anytime.”
Omer slowly exhaled.
“I know I can call you anytime.”
His voice had lost its earlier forced lightness.
“And I know you'll listen.”
A pause.
“But right now...” He exhaled quietly. “There's nothing worth sharing.”
Ali remained quiet for a moment.
“I’m sure there is,” he said finally. “But I know you're not willing to budge right now.”
Omer drew a slow breath.
Ali noticing me is one thing...
But Amanah...
His thoughts shifted.
I don't think it's just the resemblance. She has the same sharp, probing mind as her brother.
Except for her eyes.
His thoughts lingered there.
Her eyes were remarkably different from Ali's. Light brown... or perhaps a mix of brown and green. Maybe dark brown.
Omer frowned.
Oh, man...
Why am I thinking about her eyes when I hardly even looked into them?
He leaned back in his armchair and stared at the ceiling for a moment.
And why is my heart still racing?
He shook his head.
This is ridiculous.
Then Omer cleared his throat.
“Ali... I think I need to check on the servants.”
Ali scoffed.
“Yes... that's what you do best.”
Omer smiled.
“Commanding an army of servants?”
“Exactly.”
Omer gave a quiet laugh.
“Well, someone has to do it when Mom isn't around.”
“Take care, man,” Ali said.
“You too,” Omer replied.
The call ended.
ns216.73.216.48da2
and then Add to home screen.