<p> </p><hr><p>Ahankali (gently), she pushed the office door open and stepped inside after knocking.</p><p>He was sitting with his laptop in front of him, typing away. Seeing Maryama made him pause his work and smile.</p><p>"Good afternoon, doctor," he greeted.</p><p>She replied as she attempted to sit on the chair opposite his desk, "Good afternoon, sir. How's work?"</p><p>She lifted her legs and placed them on the chair in front of her, scrunching her face in displeasure.</p><p>"Work is tiring, doctor," she complained.</p><p>He chuckled and said, "Well, it’s only because it’s you…"</p><p>"Really?" she asked, smiling.</p><p>"Yeah… you look stunning today."</p><p>"Thank you, doctor," she responded.</p><p>She then focused on her iPhone, inserting her earpiece and playing a game called <i>Angry Run</i> while occasionally responding to his comments.</p><p>She spent a long time in Dr. Yazeed's office, chatting with him before finally saying goodbye and leaving. He walked out with her, accompanying her to her office, where they sat down again for another conversation.</p><p>When she saw that it was already 3:00 PM, she called Dr. Naz because she wanted to go home.</p><p>At 3:30 PM, Dr. Naz arrived. He followed her inside her office, standing beside her desk while she packed up her belongings. He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her.</p><p>"You came late, yet you want to leave early?"</p><p>"I need to go and get my feet washed before heading home," she explained.</p><p>He picked up her handbag while she carried her lunchbox and laptop bag.</p><p>They left together, walking towards the parking lot, where his car was parked.</p><p>On their way home, he stopped by a salon that offered foot spa services. They entered together, and she sat down to get her feet washed. Her nails were trimmed and cleaned, then artificial nails were fixed before being coated with white nail polish.</p><p>Dr. Naz sat watching as her toes became more radiant, looking as delicate as a baby's feet.</p><p>He paid for the service before they both left.</p><p>"Today, I want to go to the stadium to watch a football match, so I’m in a hurry to get home," she told him, adjusting her headscarf.</p><p>"I also wanted to go, but I have other commitments. If you watch it, make sure to tell me all about it tomorrow," he replied.</p><p>"Okay, no problem. Just hurry up and take me home," she said.</p><p>He increased the car's speed, and within a few minutes, they arrived at the military barracks. She stepped out of the car and waved at him before heading inside.</p><p>Upon entering, she found Blessing folding and putting away her washed clothes.</p><p>"Blessing, go get my clothes from Dr. Naz’s car," she instructed.</p><p>"Okay, Aunty," Blessing replied and left.</p><p>She headed upstairs while taking off her jacket and untying her headscarf. Entering her bedroom, she tossed her clothes onto the bed and started removing her wristwatch and other accessories, leaving only her earrings and nose ring.</p><p>She picked up a towel from behind the bathroom door and went inside to shower.</p><p>While she was in the bathroom, Blessing entered, picking up the clothes she had thrown and neatly arranging them. She also laid out fresh clothes for her to wear afterward.</p><p>Maryama didn’t spend much time in the bathroom. She stepped out, drying herself with a small towel. Her makeup was minimal this time—just some powder and lipstick. She sprayed her perfume before heading to her prayer mat, where she performed both her <i>Zuhr</i> and <i>Asr</i> prayers.</p><p>After praying, she walked over to the clothes Blessing had set out.</p><p>She wore a black jersey-style top paired with blue jeans and a small black headscarf. Completing her look, she put on black <i>combos</i> (sneakers), grabbed her phone, and hurried out, knowing the match had probably already started—it was already past 5:00 PM.</p><p>As she reached downstairs, she called Blessing.</p><p>"Blessing, where's my bike key?"</p><p>Blessing quickly ran to get it and handed it to her. She took it and headed out without informing her father.</p><p>She entered the garage, where a sleek pink-and-blue motorcycle was parked—a high-end bike, commonly seen in India, designed for women. The bike itself was a masterpiece, smooth and glossy, with a large glass windshield at the front.</p><p>She rolled it out of the garage, mounted it, started the engine, and sped off.</p><p>Most residents of the barracks were used to seeing her ride her bike every evening.</p><p>She took the expressway, a road with minimal traffic, mainly occupied by driving learners.</p><p>Her speed was intense—so fast that all you could hear was the <i>shuuu</i> sound of the bike engine. She rode effortlessly, immersed in the music playing through her earpiece. The bike’s built-in lights flashed in a rhythmic glow.</p><p>Within minutes, she reached the stadium, a massive structure that could accommodate tens of thousands of spectators.</p><p>She parked her bike in the designated area and locked it before heading to a small shop that sold refreshments and snacks.</p><p>She grabbed a plastic bottle of Coke and a container of popcorn before walking into the stadium, completely relaxed. Most of the attendees recognized her—she was one of the few women who regularly visited the stadium.</p><p>She found a seat in the upper section and settled in, munching on her popcorn and sipping her Coke while watching the game unfold.</p><hr><p> </p>
