Second update for this week. Here you go, lovely people!♡

After our brief conversation, I leave the study with questions swirling my mind. Obviously, they would catch up on my stupid act. I only hoped my stupid act had done something on the other side. I have no access to the telephone or the internet to know about the recent developments. Now that I think about it, I wonder how I lived through all these days without internet and cellphone. Well, I had quite a bit on my plate already.

My cellphone request was turned down, I wonder if he would grant me any access to the internet. As I slump on my bed leaning bacj to rest against the headboard, I can't help wondering if acting meek will really get me home. I might as well get married and settled here at the rate things are progressing.

A flurry of voices followed by a soft but heavy footfall has me sauntering to the door, paving my ears on the door trying to listen to the conversation. I distinctly recognise Basheer's voice followed by a sharp voice but that of a man. There's someone else.

I have never seen anybody come by. Well, taking into consideration that Basheer stayed back in his study, it's no doubt that he was to meet somebody.

What does he do anyway? Fatima mentioned he supplied medicines. In the past few days, he left for someplace. I took it, he was off to work. I wonder if someone can build a house like this by simply supplying medicines.

One kilometres away from this house resides militant camps. I really wonder if his job is as simple as it sounds. My curiosity rises, wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation.

But, there are cameras everywhere. I will have to be stealthy about it. I take a towel and a fresh set of clothes before making my way to Basheer's room. Stopping outside his door, I wait a second before knocking on the door.

Knock!

Knock!

No reply. They aren't here. I quickly make my way inside shutting the door behind me. Luck it is that the study room is just next to his room separated by a thin wall. I pave my ears trying to catch their conversation. Muffled sounds, a distinctly sharp voice and another grave voice, but I cannot make out a single word. If only I had a stethoscope now. My eyes scan the room before I pick up a glass, the only thing I can use. I hold it's mouth to the wall separating us putting my ear on it again.

The sounds are clearer this time.

". . . . died?" A voice that belongs to Basheer asks.

" 2612 from cocaine and 1512 from heroine." Another voice, that is distinctly high pitched states.

Drugs? I knew there was shady business involved.

Is Basheer responsible for these deaths?

"Do you have the report?" Basheer asks.

"Yes." Followed by a shuffling of papers and then everything goes silent.

1 . . .2 . . . 3 . . .4 . . . I mentally count.

Is he coming back?

Oh no!

I immediately retrace from the wall putting the glass where it was and striding over to the bed, sitting down, pulling one leg up to my chest leaning on the headboard lazily as if waiting for him.

No sooner have I leaned on the headboard, the door opens and Basheer strides in holding a brown manilla envelop.

His initial reaction is of shock as he sees me sitting lazily on his bed as if it's mine before desire clouds his vision. He must have remembered that day.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, pretending to be shocked.

"Waiting for you," I reply, casually pulling myself to sit straight. But inside, my heart is thudding across my ribcage threatening to break free. I hope he doesn't notice my ears. They must be red by now.

"For what?"

"I need you to open the bandage for me," I make up an excuse, hoping internally he declines.

Couldn't you come up with another excuse?

"Don't you have Ruksar for that?" He asks, his eyes narrowing.

Jump to the opportunity.

I can't.

"I want you to do it. Is there a problem Basheer?" I ask, not wanting to drag it further. Jumping up to go to Ruksar would only further his suspicion. But also want to know the reason behind his reluctance.

" No, I. . ." But before he can say anything a voice comes from outside.

" Basheer?"

Damn Ruksar!

But she's saving you only.

Basheer looks to the door sighing before hollering, "Come in."

The door opens to reveal Ruksar striding in. She doesn't notice me at first as her eyes are fixed onto Basheer before saying, "I came to see. . ." She stops mid-sentence noticing my presence.

"Why are you here?" She asks turning to me furrowing her eyebrows. But then her eyes move to the fresh set of clothes and towels on the bed.

"You can use the other bathroom. It's repaired."

Oh my God! Don't blow my cover, idiot.

Suck up your jealousy bitch!

You are a maid, adhere to that, don't act like the fucking queen.

Basheer answers for me, "She came to get the ointment applied as you were busy."

"Oh, okay." She says, smiling at Basheer before turning to me, her eyes taking a hard glint to them, "Come Nehali, I will help you."

Aww, so sweet!

Uff Dumb Lady!

"Okay." I nod, suppressing the inherent desire to strangle her for eyeing what's mine.

Mine?

Whatever.

Correction: For poking her not so welcome nose in my plan.

I eye the brown envelop still clutched in Basheer's hand before following Ruksar to my room.

I need to get that report .

For what I am not sure. But, it sure contains something valuable

Whose report is it anyway?

____________________________

I hop into the shower quickly washing, before Ruksar sits behind me applying the ointment.

"Its almost healed. You don't need the bandages anymore. I will leave it open for now. Stay here only."

I nod. I knew it already. For fuck's sake I am a bloody doctor. But, I needed an excuse.

"Try wearing a dupatta around your head. Don't leave your hair open. It doesn't look good."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does. You are living among respectable people. According to Allah. . . "

"Sorry, but I do not adhere to Islam and its beliefs. So, quit lecturing me."

It feels wrong as soon as it comes out. I didn't mean to be this rude but I won't take someone imposing their beliefs on me.

I know, you hate the way Basheer looks at me. You couldn't have missed that.

You are using Islam as a way just to get back at me.

I know I hit a point as the silence that follows is deafening. She finishes her job, getting up from my bed and striding to the door without another word.

"There are guests too. Maintain your dignity." She says before closing the door behind her, but never turning back to look at me.

Dignity? My ass!

Jealous piece of woman.

I smirk as she closes the door behind her, a stoic expression on her face. I roll my eyes at the absurdity of that woman. My mind drifts to those deaths.

2612 and 1512.

I need the envelope. I need to find a way to his room.

His room, it is.

_______________________________

Author's Note:

Don't forget to vote and comment! Hope you all enjoyed!

What do you think those numbers are?

And what do you think the envelope contains?

Oh and a long and hot chapter ahead for next week. Will be posted on Sunday midnight, IST.

Stay safe! ♡