The backyard of Khan Haveli looked different at night. Lit by soft yellow lamps fixed along the stone walls, their glow falling gently over the old trees and the trimmed hedges lining the boundary. Somewhere in the distance, crickets chirped steadily, filling the spaces between sounds. Two wooden chairs and a small table had been placed, where Kabir and Hanan sat with cups of tea in their hands.

“Eifa log kab ayenge?” Kabir asked, glancing toward the path that led to the front of the haveli. The rest of them had already returned.