The evening of incident

Sejal's POV:

Everything seemed normal in the cafe as usual: the customers chatting, the smell of coffee beans being roasted, waiters walking around.

I saw him enter the cafe at his usual time. A few moments later, a man in uniform entered. He definitely is some high-ranked officer; I can tell from his uniform. This was unusual. Mostly, his clients are some serious-looking men or rich-looking women. Something else was unusual today: the weight of the box. It seemed heavier than usual. I was scared. If something had happened, I might be arrested as well and then deported, which is my worst nightmare. But curiosity won. I deliberately chose to take an order from the nearby table.

The man in uniform looked angry. He was continuously talking, and the other man was, to my surprise, looking shocked, as if he was completely stunned by what the man in uniform was saying. I got closer so I could hear something. The man in uniform was talking about some terrorist attack and some money that he had provided, and that's when some things started to make sense.

The money that old man made by selling precious stones was somehow involved by some terrorist organization.

However, the man in uniform did not threaten him. He was simply angry or rather, disappointed.

After a couple of more minutes, the man in uniform walked out, while the other man just sat there, holding his head with both his hands.

I was waiting for him to signal me so I could hand over the box.

But he didn't ask for it right away.

So I kept myself busy dealing with customers and cleaning the tables.

And finally, our newest employee joined us. She just joined yesterday, a teenager working multiple part-time jobs to afford her tuition.

I relate to her because of the 2 gap years I took because of financial difficulties back at home. Those 2 years broke me. That feeling of doing nothing and being a burden killed me from inside, and because of the conservative mindset of my family, I wasn't allowed to get any low-wage jobs.

The voice of the front door opening brought me back to reality. I greeted our new fellow employee and offered to give her a proper tour and instructions.

The atmosphere of this cafe was pleasant, mostly.

We all had work to do, and after we were done, all of us used to head out to our places.

Ironically, this was the very place I went to after landing in NYC.

I still remember the feeling. I was beyond terrified about starting my life in a new city, new country, and most of all, alone.

But then excitement got me. I came here, had my first coffee, and then went apartment hunting. Although I had contacted some low-rent-charging landlords online before coming here, the moment they saw me, most of them either increased their rent or simply refused to give a place to a girl, especially one who is from another country.

I was lost in the past once again when, all of a sudden, I heard voices coming from that man's table, and to say the least... he didn't look alive.