NIYA ANSARI
"Let me go," I whispered, tugging on my wrist finally. If someone–anyone–was to walk in and find us in this position, I was screwed. Maaz wouldn't be the one to be questioned, I would be. The realization made my blood turn to ice in my veins. It wasn't a child's play being a brown girl in a society that was always waiting for women to mess up so it could condemn them.
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