Chapter 6 Not That Ayra Malik

AYRA'S POV "Ayra Malik," My name echoed as the door swung open. I rose from the small bed, stepping out of the room where I had been confined. "Oh Ayra, I'm deeply sorry," Melissa exclaimed upon seeing me. "Melissa," I uttered her name, tears welling up in my eyes. "Please, come and sit," she gestured, motioning towards a chair as she took a seat herself, her gaze fixed on me. "Ayra, I apologize for not being able to visit. You know how strict work can be. I couldn't find a moment to slip away. I truly regret it," she expressed, squeezing my hand. "Don't worry. I understand it was work that kept you occupied. It's alright," I reassured her. "As soon as I finished my night shift, I immediately started cooking. I knew you'd be famished," she explained, attempting to justify her absence. "It's fine, Melissa. I comprehend," I replied. "I've been wrongly accused. I never even encountered the person upon entering the room, he was gone," I said to her as I held her hands. "Don't fret, Ayra. I believe in you. I know you're not a thief. There must be a misunderstanding," she asserted, opening the container of food she had brought. "I'm not hungry, Melissa," I confessed, leaning against the table. "Please, Ayra," she insisted, locking eyes with me. "Alright," I relented, and she swiftly began serving the food. "So, what are they saying?" she asked. "They said I should provide the bracelet that I stole, how can I provide something I haven't seen nor stolen" I replied. "Don't worry, all will be fine in the end" she assured me, as she urged me to eat. I managed to eat only a portion of the meal when we heard the police officer announced, "Ayra Malik, your time is up." "But she barely touched her food," Melissa protested. "It's alright. I'll just return," I comforted her, placing a hand on her shoulder as I left. "You should go back and rest. Remember, you've just finished your night shift," I reminded her, hinting that it was okay for her to leave. "I'll stay here," she insisted, her resolve unwavering as I was escorted back to the detention room. CASPIAN'S POV I emerged from the car and made my way towards the main entrance. Never in my life had I set foot in a police station. I couldn't believe I was here, I mused to myself as I entered the building. "Good morning, Sir," the police officers greeted in unison. "Hello," I replied simply. "My name is Caspian Hawthorne, and I'm here to identify a suspect by the name of Ayra Malik," I announced, adjusting my glasses. "Of course, Sir. Right away," one of them acknowledged before hurrying off. Turning around, I casually surveyed the surroundings and caught sight of a woman staring intently at me. I may be quite handsome, but she didn't have to make it so obvious. She's not my type, appearing disheveled and lacking in elegance. "Sir, you're already here," The portly man from the casino exclaimed, rushing in. "I thought you were supposed to arrive before me, Mr........" "Mr. Larsson, Sir," he supplied, flashing a sly grin. "I apologize, Sir. I was unavoidably delayed in traffic, and besides, traveling from downtown of the State is quite challenging, as I didn't come from the Casino" he explained, his smile apologetic. "Sir, she's in the interrogation room, waiting," the police officer informed. "Very well," I acknowledged as we followed him inside. Let's get this over with, I thought to myself as I stepped into the room. "Ayra Malik," I addressed her as I approached, but the woman who turned around was entirely different from the one who claimed to be 'Ayra Malik.' She faced me without uttering a word, her expression visibly angry even in its blankness. "She's not the Ayra Malik I encountered," I stated, turning to Mr. Larsson. "What do you mean, Sir? This is Ayra Malik," he countered, adopting a subservient tone. "Well, I'm saying this woman is not the individual who identified herself as Ayra Malik," I clarified. "Please, release this woman at once," I instructed. "Listen, I..." I began to apologize, but the real Ayra strode past me as if I were an inanimate object. What? No one gets to treat me with such disdain. "I want you to arrange a meeting with all your personnel in the cleaning department tomorrow morning but...." I paused. "Do not disclose the purpose of the meeting or its organizer. Understood?" I commanded, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Cause clearly, someone at the casino impersonated her identity by claiming her name," I said. "Yes, Sir," he replied. "And ensure you adhere to my instructions, or you will lose your job along with the actual culprit," I warned as I exited the interrogation room. Upon leaving the station, I spotted the real Ayra Malik walking out with the lady that was staring at me from earlier. "She doesn't want to hear me , that's her business" I mummured as I kicked my car and drove off, passing them by the road curb. AYRA'S POV "Ayra, you haven't said a word since you returned," Melissa remarked, looking concerned, as I lay down on the bed after a rejuvenating bath. I can't believe the audacity of wealthy people. They think they can trample over others and then just walk back to casually say sorry. "And he didn't even express remorse about it, he started with ' Listen ' I mean, who will apologized starting like that?" I added. "Don't let it bother you," she advised, standing over me. "Melissa, I've never felt so humiliated in my life. You should have seen how I was handcuffed yesterday, under the scrutiny of so many people. It's humiliating," I confessed, a tear rolling down my cheek. "I understand, but despite all that, we should be grateful the situation has been resolved. You've been vindicated, and your name has been cleared, Isn't that a relief?" she asked, taking a seat beside me as she placed my head on her lap. "Ayra, stop crying now, okay?" she urged, offering me comfort.