His movements were calm and composed — no unnecessary words, no extra expressions — just quiet efficiency. The cap shadowed his eyes, and the mask concealed half his face, making it impossible to read him.

Sayali instinctively tightened her grip on her handbag for a second before letting go of the trolley handle. She tried to observe him closely — the way he stood, the way he moved, even the way his watch glinted briefly under the afternoon sun.