Uzair's motorcycle cut through the silent streets of Lyari, the engine's low rumble the only sound breaking the night. Zara sat behind him, her arms lightly wrapped around his waist for balance. Her tears had dried, but the exhaustion of the long day — and the sudden argument with Ammi Bi — still weighed heavily on her.

After riding for nearly fifteen minutes, Uzair turned the bike toward a quieter, more secured part of the area. Instead of heading toward any regular safe house or his own small room, he took her to Rehman Dakait's large ancestral haveli — the same place where the mehfil had been held earlier that night.