I can feel Your heartbeat

Chapter 2

The door creaked open slowly, a narrow sliver of light widening to reveal two women, both draped in colourful dupattas over their head, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"Salaam Aleikum," the elder of the two said, her voice carrying a tremble of uncertainty as her eyes, wary yet commanding, scanned the figures at her doorstep.

"Wa Aleikum Salaam," Safiya replied, her voice soft yet clear, indicating respect and understanding of the household's customs. 

 "I'm Safiya Rahman, and this is my colleague, Imran Malik, from the police department." Safiya introduced them both, her tone professional as she showed her ID. Imran flashed his ID too, his actions quick, almost dismissive. Safiya caught his brisk manner but let it slide; she was too used to his no-nonsense style. 

"We are here to conduct an official investigation," Safiya added.

"Ah, please come in,"the elder woman responded, her tone warming slightly as she stepped aside, smoothing the front of her kurta nervously.

"Thank you," they responded in unison, stepping into a living room adorned with ornate tapestries and framed Quranic calligraphy. The air was scented with a faint aroma of jasmine incense, adding a calming yet somber undertone to the atmosphere.

As Safiya exchanged pleasantries, Imran's gaze cut through the superficial tranquility of the decor to probe the underlying details—a natural reflex honed by years on the force.

The room was a rich tapestry of culture and influence. Ornate Islamic calligraphy framed in gold hung prominently on the walls, flanked by family portraits that were as much about displaying lineage as they were art. Above, the ceiling was a lattice of intricate woodwork, suggesting a no-expense-spared approach to home decor. Every step they took was cushioned by the soft pile, a reminder of the world of detail and history he was stepping through, so different from the clear-cut lines and simple truths he pursued in his line of work.

Each piece of furniture was heavy, ornate, carved with the meticulous artistry of someone who cared deeply about appearances. The shelves were lined with books in Arabic and Urdu, alongside numerous framed citations and awards, perhaps indicating the family's long-standing involvement in political or social arenas.

Imran's eyes lingered on a slightly ajar door leading to what appeared to be a study. Peeking through, he could see a desk littered with papers and old photographs—potential treasure troves of information. His attention was also drawn to a small, less conspicuous cabinet that seemed oddly out of place in its simplicity.

The air was subtly laced with oud, a fragrance that spoke of the Middle East and old money. It mingled with the faint scent of jasmine from the incense burning quietly in a corner, creating a sensory blend that was both welcoming and, to Imran's trained senses, slightly disorienting.

Despite the opulence, Imran's instinct pricked at the undercurrents the room carried. The plush couch they were offered was surrounded by hand-embroidered cushions, each likely a product of meticulous craftsmanship. Yet, he chose to remain standing, his gaze drifting over the family photos that lined the walls—searching, always searching. He noted the positioning of the security cameras discreetly tucked into corners, betraying a concern for security that went beyond what a typical household might exhibit.

Once inside, they were invited to sit on a plush couch, surrounded by hand-embroidered cushions, but Safiya and Imran chose to remain standing. Safiya offered a polite smile, her hands clasped in front of her, while Imran simply shook his head, his gaze drifting over the family photos lining the walls, searching, always searching.

As they settled into the grand living room, a maid approached quietly, carrying a silver tray adorned with glasses of water. Her movements were practiced and subtle, reflective of the understated elegance that pervaded the household. The light clink of glass against the ornate metal tray echoed slightly in the spacious room, drawing Safiya's attention.