"What do you do for work?"
The stranger didn't look at Noor as he spoke; his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.
Noor shrank slightly against the leather of the passenger seat. "...Nothing."
The man's brow furrowed, a faint twitch appearing near his temple. He let out a short breath. "Nothing. Impressive. I've met unemployed people before, but you're the first one who manages to make it sound like a full-time occupation."
Noor bit her lower lip, turning her face back toward the passenger window. She didn't have the energy to explain that her life didn't belong to her, let alone a career.
"Fine," he continued, his tone dropping into something sharper, dripping with dry sarcasm. "Where do you live?"
"A house."
The silence that followed inside the vehicle was heavy enough to suffocate.
The man slowly slid one hand up the steering wheel, rubbing his thumb against his forehead as if a headache were actively forming behind his eyes. "A house," he repeated, his voice deadpan.
