01

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Mariam

I had a lot of fun today, and I was much faster than the rest of my friends.

Even before entering the exam room, I thought I would need more than three hours, but I was mistaken; it only took two. I told myself, "Imagine that there is no one else in the room but you, and you have more time than necessary." I knew that only I could blindfold myself with a red silk scarf. No one could see what was going on in my mind. The room was completely empty, white, and high-ceilinged, with walls surrounding me. All the items needed for the task were on the table. In front of me was a frightened figure, behind him a suspended, framed clock showing 12 o'clock. The figure seemed not to breathe or blink, though I knew it was just part of my imagination.

After the exam, considering the terrible rain outside, I had to wait in the building's corridor for the taxi to arrive. Leaning against the corridor wall, I looked at my phone and noticed a chat with classmates. This chat was five months old, forgotten due to my busy schedule. They didn’t even know today was my final exam; some of them had nothing to worry about as they didn't plan to continue their studies at the Academy.

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**CHAT**

**[Natalie]**

I hope you’re free tonight. What do you say? I have a lot to talk to you about...

**[Mia]**

Sounds good. We haven't met for a long time. Where do we meet?

**[David]**

I wouldn't mind gathering at a café.

**[Mia]**

Is it nearby? I don’t have much time; I have to work the morning shift tomorrow...

**[David]**

A cozy café recently opened near the train station, about half a kilometer from the city center. It will take you less than an hour. I’m free after 7 PM. What about you?

**[Mia]**

Good.

**[Natalie]**

Well, then we’re agreed. 7 PM.

**[David]**

Let the rest of us know before 7 PM. There are many people there in the evening; I’ll book places in advance.

**[Mariam]**

....

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At 6:57 PM, I slowly approached the street where the café was located. There was no one around and no cars in the parking lot.

Being punctual, unlike them, I arrived at the address a few minutes early. The building was almost empty, though its vintage interior and quiet environment were a rarity compared to local cafés.

Soon after, a young man working in the café noticed me, approached unhurriedly, and asked in a low voice, "Have you booked a table?"

"The table should be reserved for several people, if I'm not mistaken," I replied.

"I'll need your name to check," he said.

"Mariam Shelia," I answered calmly.

"Okay, wait here. I’ll be back shortly," he said.

While waiting, I checked my phone again for new messages in the chat. They said that due to traffic, they would be 10-15 minutes late.

A few minutes later, the young man returned.

"Everything is fine. Table 22. Let me guide you," he said.

---

I took my place at the round wooden table, scrolled through the menu, and began reading. It became clear why you needed to book a table here; this wasn't an ordinary café where you could have a cappuccino and biscuits while chatting with friends. This café catered to high society, with prices ending in two zeros for every item. Most students, including myself, couldn't afford even a coffee here.

David Bokeria rarely considered that some of us were not as financially well-off as he was.

Nevertheless, I had to stand firm in this elite setting.

---

All four of them sat around the table, talking, while I observed their body language and listened. I wondered how long it would take them to notice that not four, but five people were at the table. Did I try to talk to them? Yes, three times. But every time I started, they looked at me with lifeless faces, waiting for me to finish so they could stop pretending to be interested.

You might ask why I’m here. Honestly, I don’t know myself.

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