The next day, she went back to work. It seemed like she had been away for months! At first, she was a bit nervous as to what her peers might make out of that absurd attack and her spying skills which she expected would be making rounds in the entire office.
Thankfully, none of it happened. People usually forget and the only voices that we hear are just in the head. Though, the one person who did come up to her was the nerdy software engineer who wasn't too happy that she had utilised his tactics to break into Younus Hadad's room. She waved him off saying that she had a lot to catch up on and didn't have a minute to spare. It was a lie, of course.
She had no clue about the terms she was now on with her boss. He obviously didn't regard her as the best after what she had tried to intervene and interrupt in his matters which were "personal". Other than that, nothing looked clear. It was all fuzzy, with no concrete aims to be on this job. She was now working for NIB; for Moutasim. The pretence was getting too thick, there was a guilt of not being sincere to her job; to herself, she had been trying to shove it ever since she had agreed with him. Riya had almost given up her dream job, her career goals just to help the investigation bureau.
After all, that was more important but she couldn't really accept the altitude of her behaviour. What if it was some other agent and not Moutasim? Would she still do what she had done with almost zero persuasion? That was certainly debatable. He didn't have to push very hard for her to agree and somewhere deep inside, she knew the reason.
She smiled helplessly, remembering his reluctant gaze on her. She knew he was fighting himself to not look her in the eye while the whole discussion in his office the other day. Some ruffling of papers jolted her out of her daydream. Drake stood beside her desk, scribbling on a small sticky note that was stuck to a printout document.
The note read, 'Give this medical application to your boss and tell him that you have a Doctor's appointment during the lunch hour. Cheif's order.'
She blinked in bewilderment and looked up to ask him. He had already left. She quickly scanned the busy office to see whether someone had noticed the much secret activity, but to her relief, everybody was working away in their own cubicles, too occupied to be nosy.
She started reading the medical application which was well-scripted and nobody could tell that it was a sham. As she read on, her eyes widened in shock. She read a particular line over and over again to make sure the words weren't defying her.
"To hell with their chief!" She muttered angrily to herself as she scrunched up the sticky note, tearing it mindlessly.
Sitting motionless for a couple of minutes, she stared into space so that her nerves could gel back together. When she finally calmed down, she looked at the other side of the picture. This application was a necessity for all the reasons she didn't know yet but she couldn't leave work without a damn good one for them to think of her otherwise. By now, she was in habit of people stalking her all the time, just to check if she was up to something. It was obvious, Riya Jahangiri was a major threat to the murderer. If only she knew more details about the case, she wouldn't have needed NIB to babysit her.
What if NIB is a hoax? She thought suddenly, glancing at the printout.
Moutasim had been playing a gangster all these years, it surely wasn't hard for him to pull on another character and make everyone believe the newest story on the block. But why would he do that? Professionally, her thoughts were reasonable but her heart had a different vibe altogether. Aside from the much-talked-about murder case, Moutasim was taking a mysterious shape for her. Though she knew NIB existed for real, it was still hard to digest that he could be one of them. His picture of a bad guy from the past was taking too long to dissolve. Part of it was because she had no idea of what he wanted her to do, his strategic plans weren't widely revealed to her, just some brief idea about the whole situation on how to get the evidence together so that the case could go to trial without any deliberate constraints.
With thudding beats, she walked over to Younus's room and paused before knocking, letting her eyes roam through the corridor before anyone noticed she was there. She had to go in, she knew she would. What if he gets to know of her double-standardness? That thought made it much worse. If only she'd rehearsed this conversation once more, but she'd already rehearsed it a thousand times. Why was she scared when NIB had her back up? It eased her a bit, though not making much difference.
Now that she really got to his door with her hand on the knob, her mouth had gone dry and her heart was beating more forcefully than it usually did. She raised her fist to knock, then lowered it to her side. Could she do this? Then quickly she raised her hand again and pressed her knuckles before her second thoughts got the better of her again.
As soon as she entered, she regretted doing this. He looked up from his glasses sitting low on his nose and nodded, "How are we doing?"
"Fine, thank you."
Biting her lower lip, she shifted her weight on the other foot, waited for the ground to tear open so she could disappear into it. Fidgeting with the paper in her hand, she almost gave it away when she changed her mind. If she had really started to play, after all, she might do an inch of extra from her side to make everything look good.
"Sir, I'm really sorry for what I did that night. I shouldn't have done it." Making a puppy face, she waited, her breath on hold.
He nodded and paused typing, "Right, you shouldn't have."
She peered at his screen and figured he was writing a report about a new money laundering case. "Who do you think had attacked me? Did someone stop me from finding out more?"
He gawked at her and took his spectacles off, dropping them carelessly on the pile of papers covering the table.
She simpered. That was it. She knew she had pushed a bit too far but it was worth the consequences. Quickly regaining her composure, she plastered worry on her face.
"Riya, I had told you not to bother about that murder case anymore. There isn't much evidence we can find and the actual err, or who knows if it did really happen at all? The crime is dated two years back. Why was the victim's partner sleeping until now?"
"I understand that there isn't much to do but my concern has now shifted to the attacker. Don't you think he should be punished for an attempt to kill me?"
She had tested his patience, "I think you should be punished for breaking into my system and robbing off my data. Could you find anything?" He smiled bitterly.
Did he just defend that guy out front who tried strangling me to death? She gritted her teeth, "I was just really curious. I am sorry."
"You better be." He murmured, putting his glasses on again.
She handed him the medical leave and waited further for her doom. He didn't even read the entire note and gestured her to leave, "Get well soon."
"Thank you."
Heaving a sigh of relief, she sprinted to escape the room as if it were on fire! Moutasim has left me nowhere, she sighed again. She had to agree though, fortunately, it turned out to be pretty okay. Now, she only needed to confront him for the crazy things he'd written in the note.
After an hour of sorting mails and printing important paperwork to be filed, an odd message notification beeped in her purse. She hung off the purse from the back of her chair and fetched for her phone. It was switched off. Confused, she slipped her hand into the back pocket and another phone emerged. That's when she remembered that Moutasim had given her another one to be in contact, suspecting that her own was being tapped.
Moutasim {10:38 AM}: Hey.
Her expression closed up. She was too mad at this guy to chit-chat with him over text messages. She tossed the phone aside, picked it up again to reply but kept it back again. She nearly stapled her thumb while securing the documents together, her mind still whacking up for a damn short message. While a lot of changing minds and struggling, another message beeped in.
Moutasim {11:00 AM}: Your responses are so fast, I can't keep up with them.
Huh! She had almost made one last final decision to not answer but who was she kidding?
Riya {11:10 AM}: What else would you expect from a person who's down with a brain syndrome?
She drummed her fingers on the desk impatiently. Was she desperately waiting for his reply? Oh-uh. When did this get so out of hand?
Moutasim {11:12 AM}: Oh, so that's why the sulky face.
She couldn't believe he was taking it so casually.
Riya {11:13 AM}: Seriously? How dare you make up that diagnosis just to make the application look real?
Moutasim {11:13 AM}: I really did not make anything up.
Riya {11:13 AM}: This isn't funny at all.
Moutasim {11:14 AM}: Anyway. How's the investigation coming along? Any irregular activities?
Riya {11:14 AM}: Horrible! I want to stab every person in this room. :(
Moutasim {11:15 AM}: Okay, just don't get any blood on your clothes.
Riya {11:20 AM}: You're a NIB officer, you shouldn't be condoning this. :/
Moutasim {11:45 AM}: Don't tell me how to live my life.
Riya {11:45 AM}: Well, that's YOUR job isn't it? :O
He sent a map indicating a specific location.
Moutasim {11:48 AM}: Meet me here at 1 sharp!
It was a hospital's address, about forty-five minutes of drive away. There was a nervous-wreck breaking into her, she couldn't figure out what was he up to. First, a fake medical leave with an over dramatized diagnosis and then he wanted to meet at a hospital?
--------------------------------------------
The hospital corridor was stuffy and the air had a tinge of bleach. The walls were sandy coloured with sets of grey metal chairs installed against them every few steps away. The pictures on the walls were benignant prints of uplifting scenes and above the double doors were large blue plastic signs with the areas of the hospital that lie ahead.
She found Moutasim waiting at the far end of the corridor, impatiently pacing back and forth with his hands folded at his back.
"Why are we in a hospital?" She lifted an eyebrow suspiciously.
He retorted with a straight face, "To get you treated."
She shook her head disapprovingly but followed him quietly. At least Riya and Moutasim were legit tolerant of each other's sarcasm if not of each other, yet.
He pushed opened a door to a private ward and led her to the bed where a frail figure lay with an oxygen mask covering most of the face and IV's attached to both of his hands. An old man who was struggling for life was old beyond a natural lifespan and seemed to pay the price. Or maybe his condition had led him to look like that. While his heart worked stubbornly, with the monitor displaying the steady but active beats with constant beeping sounds to confirm his otherwise lifeless life. The open eyes were not entirely focused but moved randomly once in a while.
She moved closer and eyed the man sympathetically only to find a stark resemblance to someone she knew, but didn't exactly remember who.
"Who is he?" She asked him in a whisper, sadness clouding her features.
He nodded and tilted his head towards the door, as to tell her they couldn't speak inside. As they went out, he closed the door behind him and scratched his eyebrow, with a hint of worry evident on his face.
"This is the man who had filed a case against his son, accusing him of murdering his mother; a biological one," he clicked his tongue and continued, "Unfortunately, by the time the case reached its turn and was opened by your boss, this man suffered a severe stroke and went into a coma ever since."
Her face contorted, "That's pretty tragic for a prime witness to fall ill."
"Exactly. This is the reason why we can't gather our first evidence. This man can only be saved by a miracle in time for the culprit to get punished. Let's pray for his healthy life."
She nodded when a thought churned in her mind, "Do you think he's put into this state on purpose? Like, to not go on with the case?"
His eyes sparkled. She sure knew how to enlighten him with her attentive little brain that he had earlier mocked with the medical application. "That's a very big possibility, yes, but we can't prove it until..."
Two staff members passed by, side-glancing them. They were kind of raising eyes because nobody hardly ever visited the poor old man. These sudden visitors had the staff in surprise.
He quickly walked towards the back exit and paused, "You go back on your own and you exactly know why." He waited for her to leave first so as to not be noticed for getting spotted together. There were way too many people hiding and taking note of every action she made, he wouldn't risk her no matter what.
Her heart fluttered at the small smile he finally decided to wear. "I'm sick of them watching every move I make. Do something about it, please?" She pleaded as she took a step down the stairs. Just when she did, her foot tripped on a step she missed. Before she could roll down the stairs and fall flat on her face, Moutasim pulled her back inside the door.
Grasping her palm tightly in his, they stood way too close for one another to look in the eye. The warmth of his breath on her cheek was melting her inside-out, she wanted to let go. Not because she wanted to go off him, only because she couldn't bear the proximity shaking her up.
"It'll be all over before you know it. I promise."
His breathy voice made knots in her stomach. With that, he let her go but she stayed, dazed in thoughts, with a glint in her eyes. She stared at him, perhaps to decode the promise he just made. What will be over? Did he promise her that he'd disappear again once the case was done? She would have stayed there if it weren't for him to nudge her outside, yet giving her an electrifying touch with a simple brush of his hand on her arm.
She didn't know what was happening. Nor did she know what she exactly wanted to happen. Whatever it was, it was lightening up her world amidst all the chaos of stalkers, murderers, corrupted law officers and what not.
She had gone back to work and had sat idle as she had covered most of her work before leaving for the hospital. All her focus and energy she had gathered to join work after a week-long 'holiday' had suddenly slackened. She didn't mind but she knew she had to pull up her socks otherwise, she'd be kicked out without a good excuse; thanks to her vulnerable reputation for her boss, already on the verge of firing her as soon as they find her being 'disloyal' to them, otherwise.
The long day finally came to an end. She drove back home and to her surprise, she also didn't mind the black sedan following her. Though, she wondered if the car had the criminal in it who was the main reason to stop the case proceedings. Drake was, as usual, the life-long guard and was slowly driving too, at a distance behind her.
As she unlocked her door, she started humming with a soft smile tugging on her blushing face. Everything felt beautiful around her and that's why she squeezed Arshiya in a bear hug as soon as she saw her in the living room.
"You look really happy for a change." Arshiya teased her.
"Oh, I think going back to work did wonder to my boring routine." She hid another smile. Nobody in her family knew about Moutasim's come-back, yet. It was better off that way, she had chosen to keep silent despite not it being a bother to him.
Arshiya turned around abruptly, paused sorting out her books and her face fell as she spoke, "I'm sorry to ruin the vibe, but Riya, I'm afraid you ought to find out sooner or later."
She grew anxious about her sister's expression, "Is everything okay?"
"I guess," she pulled out an envelope from under her thick history book and handed it to Riya, "It isn't something to worry about, but you know, it's quite unexpected."
Riya eyed the envelope with a frown, "What is it?"
Arshiya gestured her to flip over and read the details at the top.
Riya thought that she'd never felt so much rage as she had felt at that moment. The sender's name, "Zayn Harroun" had sent a volcano erupting within her.
Tears bubbled in her eyes, "Why does he wants to ruin my life when I think I've started to feel better?"
Zayn Harroun was trying to walk on the inferno that had long died, it had become cold ashes. How could he possibly light up another blaze on those?