By the time the elevator reached the eighth floor, Shalini's arms felt heavy from exhaustion rather than luggage.
The entire day had drained her.
The crying.
The confrontation.
Leaving that house.
Pretending she was fine when she clearly wasn't.
Beside her, Zeema stood with her usual calm expression, holding two bags in one hand like they weighed absolutely nothing.
The elevator doors opened.
The corridor was quiet.
For some reason, that quiet felt different now.
Safe.
Zeema walked ahead and unlocked the apartment.
The moment the door opened—
An orange creature sitting on the sofa lifted its head slowly.
Shalini stopped mid-step.
The cat stared at her.
Long.
Hard.
Judgmentally.
Its bright orange tail flicked once.
Then its eyes slowly traveled from her face…
to her bags…
to her shoes…
like it was personally evaluating whether she deserved entry into the apartment.
Shalini blinked.
"…Why does your cat look disappointed in me?"
Behind her, Zeema stepped inside calmly.
"He judges everyone," she replied.
The cat narrowed its eyes slightly.
Then, apparently deciding Shalini was not important enough to continue inspecting, it turned around once and lay back down on the sofa.
Shalini stared.
"…I've been rejected."
"Temporary evaluation," Zeema said while removing her shoes.
The apartment itself was warm, softly lit, and unusually quiet despite the city outside.
A faint smell of food drifted through the air.
Something fried.
Something spicy.
Something familiar.
Then Shalini noticed movement in the kitchen.
A man stood near the stove wearing a dark shirt with the sleeves folded neatly to his elbows.
One hand rested against the counter while the other held a spoon.
He looked at her silently.
Sharp eyes.
Careful observation.
The kind that made people straighten unconsciously.
For one brief second, Shalini understood exactly where Zeema got her terrifying eye contact from.
Then his gaze shifted toward Zeema.
The severity disappeared almost immediately.
Not dramatically.
Just softer.
"You're late," he said.
"Traffic."
"You didn't eat properly again."
"I did."
"You say that too confidently."
Zeema placed the bags near the hallway.
"You cooked?"
A pause.
"Yes."
Suspicion entered Zeema's face immediately.
"You burned soup last time."
"One incident should not follow a man for life."
"You burned mushrooms too."
"That was unrelated."
A quiet laugh escaped Shalini before she could stop it.
The man finally looked at her properly again.
"You must be Shalini."
His tone was calm now.
Less intimidating.
Still observant.
Shalini nodded slightly.
"Yes, uncle."
"You look exhausted."
There was no judgment in the statement.
Only observation.
Something in Shalini relaxed slightly.
"Sit first," he said. "Food is almost ready."
Zeema walked toward the dining area calmly.
"You're encouraging him," she informed Shalini quietly.
"I haven't done anything."
"You laughed."
"That counts?"
"Yes."
From the sofa, Ginger opened one eye briefly before jumping down and walking toward the kitchen.
Completely ignoring every human emotion in the room.
The cat stopped near the man's leg and meowed once.
Demanding.
"You already ate," he said without looking down.
Another meow.
Silence.
Then he opened a nearby container and placed one treat on the floor.
Ginger accepted it immediately and walked away without gratitude.
Shalini watched the interaction carefully.
"…This cat controls the apartment, doesn't he?"
"Yes," Zeema said immediately.
A quiet sigh came from the kitchen.
"Unfortunately."
For the first time that day, Shalini smiled without forcing it.
Small.
But real.
A while later, the three of them sat around the dining table.
The food was arranged neatly across the table.
Rice.
Chicken.
Vegetables.
Soup.
Nothing extravagant.
Just warm.
Comforting.
Shalini looked at the dishes for a moment.
"You made all this?"
Zeema's uncle sat down across from them.
"I know how to cook."
"Debatable," Zeema replied while reaching for water.
"I am constantly disrespected in my own home."
"You burned mushrooms."
"One mistake."
"Multiple mistakes."
"Selective memory runs in this family."
Shalini lowered her head slightly, hiding another smile.
The conversation settled naturally after that.
No pressure.
No awkward attempts to make her comfortable.
Which somehow made her more comfortable.
For a few minutes, only quiet sounds filled the apartment.
Plates moving.
Water pouring.
Cutlery touching ceramic.
Then Shalini noticed something.
Zeema was eating with a spoon.
So was her uncle.
Meanwhile—
she was the only one eating with her hand.
Her movements slowed slightly.
A small hesitation.
Zeema noticed immediately.
Of course she did.
Before Shalini could awkwardly adjust, her uncle spoke casually.
"We're just used to cutlery."
Zeema nodded once.
"Grew up in england."
"And was born in Bristol," he added while reaching for water.
Shalini blinked.
That explained the occasional accent.
The mannerisms.
The strange mix of restraint and warmth.
"You're British?" she asked before stopping herself awkwardly.
"Half," he replied calmly. "The unrecognizable half."
"You say that every time someone asks," Zeema said.
"Because it remains true."
Shalini looked between them quietly.
Suddenly certain things made more sense.
The discipline.
The emotional restraint.
The quiet luxury of the apartment.
Even the way Zeema carried herself.
Not arrogant.
Just… accustomed.
"You're both very confusing people," Shalini admitted honestly.
"Correct," Zeema said calmly.
A soft sound interrupted them.
Ginger had appeared beside Shalini's chair.
Staring.
She looked down cautiously.
"…What?"
A loud meow followed.
"He wants your food," Zeema said.
"He already ate," her uncle added from across the table.
Ginger ignored both opinions completely.
Still staring at Shalini.
After a second, she carefully lowered a tiny piece of chicken near him.
The cat accepted it immediately.
Then walked away like a landlord collecting rent.
A small silence followed.
Then Zeema's uncle spoke quietly.
"He likes you."
Shalini blinked.
"The approval process was fast."
"Temporary approval," Zeema corrected.
Shalini laughed softly again.
And this time, the sound stayed in the room longer.
Outside, the city continued moving beyond the apartment windows.
Traffic.
Voices.
Distant lights.
But inside the apartment—
warm food rested on the table.
A strange orange cat wandered like management.
And for the first time in days—
Shalini no longer felt afraid of what waited for her at night.