Duplus (Ongoing editing)

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—-Third person POV—-

Amaani wandered out into the hallway the second morning light hit her window. She slipped on her dark brown cloak and pulled over her hood as a makeshift hijab, not forgetting to pin up her veil. She picked up the list of basic living necessities she had made and folded it into a small chit before heading out of the room. It took her a minute to find her way around by retracing the path that Saira had led her through the previous night.

"Maintenance...library...bathroom..." she listed off the doors as she walked down the hallway.

Before long, she entered the west wing of the building where workers walked around, some holding papers and others typing on computers. Despite the crowd, it was quiet. Like entering a factory of  robots who had no other purpose than to follow orders. Were these the type of protectors Jaber wanted to create for the future of Nuristanis? Amaani could see them work with a quick calculated pace, each move pre-planned as if they were being monitored at all times.

It seemed logical. With the invasion of their homeland resulting from the lack of preparation from their leaders, it was common sense he was not willing to take risks. And yet, she felt at unease at such impassiveness. Both from the man himself and his workers.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she barely heard an officer call out for her. "Hey, Miss. What are you doing here?" The gruff voice made her blink as she turned to the source of the interruption. She stopped in front of a broad yet short man wearing a brown and black uniform, peering down at her with a doubtful look. 

"Uh, sorry. I was just—" she remembered the piece of paper in her hand, her backup plan. "This! I need to get this to Saira." 

"Saira?"

Amaani nodded. "Yeah, that quiet girl with brown wavy hair."

"Sir Jaber's assistant? I wasn't told there was another addition to the LAO force." He narrowed his eyes at her, taking in her hood and veil. "What's your name, lady?"

Rude much?

"Amaani Sohail." She glanced at the badge on his pocket, realising he was a security guard. He must know her name. With the ruckus Jaber had created about the murder she had not committed, he must have known of her arrival the previous night. And yet, the man only looked back with a suspicious expression. It didn't miss her how his hand snuck to the baton strapped to his belt, not really pulling it out but just staying there as a silent threat. "Have you checked in at the desk? I wasn't informed of your arrival."

Amaani did a double take. This wasn't good.

"Sir, I assure you I got here by the permission of your boss. They brought me here last night as a suspect of—"  she cleared her throat before correcting herself, "Suspect of doing something I'm not guilty of."

The man's eyes narrowed even further. "You've been here since last night? And you weren't registered? How am I supposed to believe anything you're saying?" He stepped closer, making her take one back instinctively. By now, the ruckus had caught attention as other officers glanced their way. She felt the hall cave in on her, curious and questioning glances being passed.

Part of her regretted not listening to Saira. 

"Sir, you have to listen to me. Seriously, why is everyone here so quick to jump to conclusions?" She held her hands up in surrender. "Your broody Sir Jaber brought me here because he thought I was some girl posing as a Nuristani from some foreign place! He said I looked just like her. Like can you believe the absurdity—"

"Thank you, officer Sagheer. But I'll take it from here." A voice intercepted.

She gulped as she felt his shadow loom over her from behind. His dark hazel eyes caught hers as she whirled her head to face him. The same stoic expression held a hint of annoyance and disapproval. He wasn't pleased. But then again, when had she ever seen him anything but annoyed?