The Empty Chair

The sound of the black car's engine faded slowly down the street, and then the lane fell silent. Inside Coach Rana Iqbal's house, the old scorebook lay closed on the table. Waleed kept Mamu Sikandar's handwritten betting slip safe in his pocket, as if it were not a scrap of paper at all but the honour of the whole team. Salman's face was red with anger. He wanted to march to Mamu's house that very night and settle things face…