The city was still half-asleep when they reached the safe house. The air outside was cold, but inside the small apartment it felt even heavier, thick with the kind of silence that holds too many unspoken words.
Zulfishan dropped her bag onto the table, the USB still tucked deep inside. She didn’t take off her coat. She didn’t even sit down.
“You two can go rest,” she said quietly. “I need to think.”
Aabi closed the door behind them and stepped forward. “You need to eat, Zulfishan. You haven’t—”
She turned sharply. “I don’t need you telling me what I need.”
Raheel leaned against the wall, watching the exchange. “She’s not wrong, Aabi. Right now, food is the least of our problems.”
---
Raheel set the dented laptop on the table and powered it on. “I checked the signal data from the war
