'Where are you?' Cora grumbles at Nur.

'Huh? I am sorry but what did you say?' Nur bites her lip, preparing herself for another lecture from Cora, but to her amazement, there comes none.

'I said; wipe the table.' Cora says coolly and goes back to stuffing the vegetables in the small fridge.

Nur just nods. She pulls down the piece of grey cloth—that once was yellow—from the door and walks to the table to wipe it off.

It has been three days since she was discharged from the hospital and the very first day on her work after the accident. Cora has been pleasantly quiet with her. Without any rantings or unnecessary scoldings, Nur's injury turns out to be a good miracle, though painful.

Whenever she bends down or walk too fast, her chest hurts. Not to mention the strokes of pain on her head accompanied with them. But she was sick of staying at home so she came here.

Though Nur's injury was a burden on her shoulder, Dylan made sure it was not. By sending his driver twice a day for food and medicines, for the first time after her mother left, Nur did not worry about money but loneliness stuck with her ever since.

And just like this, the day drowns out and the night's hue colours the sky. Since they had no customer, Cora closes the restaurant.

She does not even mind Nur a farewell as they both separate their ways.

Nur walks slow. She does not like her home at night. Even though she is twenty one, she is scared of the dark—of the loneliness her mother left behind. Cora closed the diner too soon. Even after Nur offer her prayer and recites the Quran, she would still not be able to sleep well.

She hates the barking of her neighbour's dog. She hates the raised voices of Mr.  and Mrs Bran and the strange loud songs from her neighbour who intentionally increases the volume especially when it is the time for her prayer. She hates the creking of the wooden floor under her feet whenever she walks on it to fetch some water. She hates the coldness her house accommodates because she can not afford a thermostat and the growling of her stomach she tries to wipe away with a date or two.

She just hates it back there and she can't help herself.

As she walks back, reciting the Ayat-ul-Qursi for she feels someone following her.

She made sure not to use the same street as last time but still, she knows she is being followed.

The same panic rises in her body again. Her heartbeat quickens and she fiddles with the strap of her bag. She has only 10 dollars and a pepper spray in her bag that she does not wish to use. Not yet.

She just closes her eyes and keeps walking, her hand reaching down in the bag to grab ahold of the spray.

She walks and walks.

Forgetting everything she just walks.

Until a hand rests on her shoulder and her heart skips a beat while her grip around the can bottle tightens.

'Nur, can you slow down?'

She does not know how but like a huge rock lifting off her body, she is suddenly light as a feather just when Dylan's voice enters in her ears.

She bites her lip. Happy her ten dollars are safe.

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