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Nora walked into the shop with a different kind of silence.
She wore the same gloves, cleaned the same tables, wiped the same knives - but her mind wasn't on the meat today. It was on Ginika. On her aunty's words. On the way Musa never really looked her in the eyes.
Musa, as usual, stayed mostly in the back. He came out once to restock the display case, then disappeared again.
But Nora was watching.
She started noticing things she had ignored before.
The padlock on the freezer.
The way the back door was always closed - even on hot days.
The heavy black bags Musa sometimes carried, always double-tied, always dripping just a little.
That afternoon, while Musa stepped out briefly to answer a call, Nora heard a faint clang from the back room.
She paused.
Her eyes drifted to the door behind the counter - the one Musa always told her not to open.
She hesitated. Looked around. Slowly walked closer.
The handle was cold.
She pressed her ear to the door.
Silence.
But then - a soft dragging sound.
She pulled her hand back quickly.
Before she could move away, she heard the front door creak open.
Musa was back.
She turned around fast and began rearranging the packs like nothing happened.
Musa walked past her.
Quiet. Calm.
But his eyes paused on the back door.
Then on her.
Just for a second.
And in that second...
Nora felt something deep in her chest:
He knows I'm starting to notice.