**Scene 1: The Chase** *(Location: Lahore's Anarkali Bazaar – Noon)*
The midday sun blazed over the crowded bazaar, turning the air thick with the scent of fried samosas and sweat. Officer Haroon Ahmed, his crisp new police uniform already sticking to his back, sprinted through the labyrinth of stalls. His target—a wiry pickpocket named Rahim—dodged between carts, sending a pyramid of oranges tumbling.
*"Ruk ja, beyghairat!"* Haroon shouted, vaulting over a basket of spices. The thief glanced back, grinning, and hurled a clay pot at him.
Haroon ducked. The pot shattered against a tea stall, earning curses from the owner. His boots skidded on spilled lentils, but he lunged forward, fingers grazing Rahim's shirt—
**CRASH.**
A body collided with his. The world spun. He landed hard on his elbows, his cap flying. Books—dozens of them—rained down around him, their pages fluttering like wounded birds.
A soft gasp above him.
Haroon looked up.
A young woman knelt amidst the chaos, her ivory *shalwar kameez* dusted with dirt. Her *dupatta* had slipped, revealing thick braids the color of burnt caramel. Wide, honey-brown eyes met his, first startled, then sharpening into annoyance.
*"Aap ko dekh kar chalna nahi aata?"* she snapped. *Do you not know how to watch where you're going?*
Haroon's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
---
**Scene 2: The Apology** *(Location: Spice Stall Alley – Moments Later)*
Rahim was long gone. Haroon crouched, gathering scattered papers—sheet music, he realized, notes scribbled in the margins.
*"Yeh aapke hain?"* He held out a water-stained volume of Faiz's poetry. *Are these yours?*
The girl snatched it, brushing past his fingers. *"Haan. Aur ab khatam ho gayi aapki madad."* *Yes. And now your help is done.* She stacked books with military precision.
Haroon winced. *"Main maafi chahta hoon. Chor pakad raha tha—"* *I'm sorry. I was chasing a thief—*
*"Aur uske liye poori dukaano ko ujaad dena zaroori tha?"* She arched a brow. *And for that, you needed to destroy half the market?*
A vendor yelled about his smashed pottery. Haroon fumbled for his wallet.
*"Mat."* Her hand shot out, blocking him. *Don't.* She dropped a handful of coins into the vendor's palm without looking. *"Isse agle baari dekh kar daudo."* *Next time, look before you run.*
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**Scene 3: The Follow** *(Location: Bookbinder's Lane – 20 Minutes Later)*
Haroon should've returned to the station. Instead, he trailed her at a distance, ignoring the ache in his ribs.
She stopped at a tiny shop, its sign peeling: *"Al-Rahman Bookbinders."* An old man at the counter beamed. *"Maryam beti! Aaj ka hisaab?"* *Maryam, daughter! Today's accounts?*
*Maryam.* Haroon mouthed the name.
She handed over a ledger. *"Abbu, yeh dekhiye—"* *Father, look—*
A crash inside the shop. Haroon's training kicked in. He barreled past her, intercepting a thief mid-robbery—a different man, this one hulking, a knife glinting.
*"Police! Hath khaali kar!"* *Hands empty!*
The thief swung. Haroon blocked, twisting his arm until the knife clattered. He slammed the man onto the counter, sending inkpots flying.
Silence.
Panting, he turned. Maryam stood frozen, her father clutching her arm.
Then—
*"Aapka uniform kharab ho gaya,"* she said quietly. *Your uniform is ruined.*
Black ink streaked his shirt. Haroon laughed, suddenly light. *"Koi baat nahi. Naya mil jayega."* *No matter. I'll get a new one.*
Their eyes held. For the first time, she almost smiled.
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End of Chapter 1