The city was a mess of blaring horns and inching cars, the morning sun glaring off windshields. Zara gripped the steering wheel tightly, her eyes darting between the road and the ticking clock on the dashboard.
"Oh no… why is there so much traffic today? I'm running late!" she muttered, frustration bubbling in her chest.
As if the day hadn't already conspired against her, a sudden jolt shook the car. She pulled over, her heart sinking. "Oh, God… why now? A flat tire?"
Without wasting another second, she locked the car and began to run, weaving through the crowded sidewalks. Her thoughts were on the deadline — until she collided hard with someone at the corner. A young man staggered back, a badge slipping from his hand and snagging in the hem of her skirt.
"Sorry!" she called over her shoulder, barely glancing at him. She didn't notice the badge still tangled in the fabric as she sprinted away.
The man — Armaan, a young detective on his way to work — bent to gather his things, and only later, patting his jacket, realized the badge itself was gone.
When Zara finally reached the meeting spot, her breath was ragged… but the place was empty. No client. No one at all. Her phone buzzed, and Areej's voice came through, urgent and breathless:
"Come home. Now."
A chill crawled up Zara's spine. Without a word, she turned and began running back — faster, more breathless than before. This time, it wasn't just the deadline chasing her. It was the fear of something she didn't yet understand.