The house was quiet when Rahul returned.
Too quiet.
No music. No voices. Just the faint hum of the ceiling fan upstairs and the muffled sounds of the street beyond the walls.
Rahul pushed open the gate. It creaked. He crossed the small courtyard, climbed the three steps to the front door.
It was slightly ajar.
He pushed it open slowly.
Inside, the air was cooler. Dimmer. The curtains were drawn across every window, filtering the evening light into something pale and lifeless.
Mohan sat on the sofa in the living room. Legs crossed. Notebook open on his lap. He looked up when Rahul entered.
"How'd it go?" Mohan asked.
Rahul closed the door behind him. "Same as before. Waiting."
Mohan nodded. Didn't push.
Rahul moved further into the room. Small signs of pressure were everywhere—papers scattered across the low table, a half-empty cup of tea gone cold, a door at the end of the hall left slightly open. The house felt lived-in but tense. Like everyone was holding their breath.
He sat in the chair across from Mohan.
Silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable. Just heavy.
Footsteps descended the stairs. Manish appeared, glasses pushed up on his forehead, a folder tucked under one arm. He glanced at Rahul, then at Mohan.
"Good. You're both here." Manish set the folder on the table. Sat down in the remaining chair. "We need to talk."
Rahul's pulse quickened slightly.
Mohan closed his notebook.
Manish leaned back. His expression was calm. But his eyes were sharp. Calculating.
"We're not going back to the archives," Manish said quietly. "That door is closed."
Rahul nodded.
"So we move forward with what we have." Manish opened the folder. Inside were a few handwritten notes, names, vague details. "The records were altered. Someone erased her trail deliberately. That's confirmed."
"Why?" Mohan asked.
"Because she knows something. Or because someone doesn't want her found." Manish's tone was even. Factual. "Either way, she left quietly after the case. Got a job. Marketing firm. Somewhere in the city."
Rahul leaned forward. "Do we have a name? A location?"
"Not yet." Manish glanced at Mohan. "But we're close."
Mohan shifted. "I reached out to my contact last night. They're checking. Should have something by tomorrow morning."
"What kind of something?" Rahul asked.
"Company name. Industry. Maybe a location." Mohan's voice was careful. "Nothing concrete yet. But enough to start."
Manish nodded slowly. "When we get it, we move carefully. No confrontation. No pressure. Just observation."
Rahul's jaw tightened. "And if she refuses to talk?"
"Then we watch. Learn her patterns. Wait for an opening." Manish's eyes locked onto Rahul's. "But we don't force anything. Understand?"
Rahul nodded.
But inside, his mind was already racing.
Three days left. Maybe less.
Manish spread the notes across the table.
"Here's what we know for certain," he said. "She was Ananya's roommate. Final year. Off-campus flat. She left within weeks of the case breaking. No forwarding address. No contact information."
"And now she's working," Mohan added. "Moved on. Tried to forget."
"Or was paid to forget," Rahul said quietly.
Manish didn't confirm or deny. Just continued. "The exit record was altered recently. Within the last year. That means someone is still watching her trail. Still protecting something."
"Protecting what?" Mohan asked.
"That's what we need to find out." Manish's voice was calm. Clinical. "But we don't ask that question directly. We approach carefully. Build trust. Let her decide to talk."
Rahul's hands curled into fists. "That takes time."
"Yes." Manish's expression didn't change. "But rushing gets people hurt. You've learned that."
Rahul didn't answer.
Mohan glanced between them. "So what's the plan?"
Manish closed the folder. "Tomorrow, when we have the company name, you and Rahul go."
Rahul looked up. "Not you?"
"No." Manish adjusted his glasses. "I have a university meeting. Scheduled weeks ago. Canceling it raises questions."
"And Antony?" Mohan asked.
"Antony will be at his tutoring sessions. He won't be free ." Manish's tone was firm. "Fewer people means lower risk. Less chance of recognition. Just you two."
Rahul's stomach tightened.
Fewer allies meant more exposure.
Mohan seemed to realize it too. His leg started bouncing slightly. Nervous energy leaking through.
"You'll go as consultants," Manish continued. "Independent auditors. You're conducting background research on industry practices. Nothing specific. Nothing threatening."
"And if she asks why we're really there?" Rahul said.
"You don't lie. You just don't tell the whole truth." Manish's eyes were steady. "You're looking into past housing arrangements. Administrative records. She doesn't need to know more than that."
Mohan nodded slowly. "And if she refuses to talk?"
"Then you leave. Politely. No pressure." Manish leaned forward. "But if she agrees, you listen. You don't interrogate. You let her tell you what she's comfortable sharing."
Rahul's jaw tightened. "And if she knows nothing?"
"Then we're at another dead end." Manish's voice was quiet. "But we don't know that yet."
Silence filled the room.
Outside, a scooter passed. Faded.
Manish stood. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will be long."
He picked up the folder. Climbed the stairs. Disappeared into his study.
Mohan stood too. Stretched. "I should get going. Early session tomorrow."
Rahul nodded.
Mohan paused at the door. Looked back. "We'll find her. We'll get answers."
Rahul wanted to believe that.
Didn't.
Just nodded again.
Mohan left.
The door clicked shut.
Rahul sat alone in the living room.
The ceiling fan hummed overhead.
Three days left.
Maybe less.
Rahul climbed the stairs to his room.
The guest room was dark when he entered. He didn't turn on the light. Just closed the door behind him and stood there, letting his eyes adjust.
The bed. The window. The crack in the ceiling.
Everything the same as before.
But the weight was heavier now.
He moved to the bed. Sat down. Lay back.
Stared at the ceiling.
His mind counted automatically.
Three days left on his leave.
Two days since arriving in here.
One chance to find the roommate.
Zero margin for error.
His shoulder ached. The old wound throbbing in sync with his pulse.
He replayed the plan in his head.
Tomorrow morning. Marketing firm. Somewhere in the city.
Walk in. Professional. Calm. Cover story rehearsed.
Ask for a brief discussion. Independent consultants. Background research.
Don't mention Ananya. Don't mention the case. Don't push.
Just listen.
But what if she refused?
What if she saw through the lie?
What if someone was already watching her?
Rahul's hands clenched into fists.
His breathing slowed. Controlled.
One step at a time.
Tomorrow, they'd find the company.
Tomorrow, they'd approach carefully.
Tomorrow, he'd get answers.
Or he'd run out of time.
Outside, the city hummed. Distant. Muffled.
Rahul closed his eyes.
Didn't sleep.
Just waited.
For morning.
For movement.
For the window to close completely.
Morning came too fast.
Rahul woke before the alarm. The room was still dark. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
Then stood.
Dressed carefully. Clean shirt. Pressed pants. Professional. Unremarkable.
He checked his reflection in the small mirror near the door.
Rajesh Sharma. Junior reporter. Independent consultant.
Not Rahul .
Not the fugitive.
Not the accused.
He descended the stairs. The house was quiet. Manish wasn't up yet. Or was already in his study.
Mohan arrived ten minutes later. Knocked softly. Rahul let him in.
"You ready?" Mohan asked.
Rahul nodded.
They didn't eat breakfast. Just drank water. Checked their notebooks. Reviewed the cover story one more time.
Manish appeared at the top of the stairs. "The company name came through this morning."
Rahul's pulse spiked. "Where?"
Manish descended. Handed Mohan a slip of paper. "South bhopal. Marketing and consultancy firm. Mid-sized. She's listed as a junior associate. And her name is Sneha"
Mohan glanced at the paper. Nodded.
"Remember," Manish said quietly. "Careful. Polite. No pressure."
"Understood," Mohan replied.
Manish looked at Rahul. "You don't speak unless necessary. Let Mohan lead."
Rahul nodded.
They left the house together. The morning air was cool. The streets were already busy—scooters, auto-rickshaws, vendors setting up.
They walked in silence.
Rahul's mind rehearsed every possible scenario.
She agrees to talk.
She refuses.
She recognizes him.
She calls security.
His hands stayed in his pockets.
His breathing stayed controlled.
But inside, everything was screaming.
The building was taller than Rahul expected.
Glass and steel. Seven stories. Corporate logos near the entrance. A revolving door that opened into a bright, air-conditioned lobby.
They stopped across the street. Stared at it.
"That's it," Mohan said quietly.
Rahul's throat was dry.
They crossed the street. Entered the lobby.
Inside, everything was clean. Polished. Professional. A receptionist sat behind a sleek desk, typing on a computer. Security guards stood near the elevators.
Mohan approached the desk. Smiled. Professional. Easy.
"Good morning. We're here for a brief consultation. We'd like to speak with one of your associates. It's regarding background research on industry practices."
The receptionist looked up. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No. But it's informal. Just a short discussion."
The receptionist frowned. "I'll need a name."
Mohan hesitated. Then provided it.
The name mohan had written on the slip of paper.
The receptionist typed. Waited. Then picked up the phone.
Spoke quietly. Paused. Listened.
Rahul's pulse hammered.
The receptionist hung up. Looked at them. "She'll be down in a few minutes. You can wait over there."
She gestured to a seating area near the elevators.
Mohan nodded. "Thank you."
They moved to the seats. Sat down.
Rahul's hands were shaking.
He pressed them flat against his knees.
Waited.
The elevator doors opened.
A woman stepped out.
Thin. Professional clothes. Hair pulled back. Glasses. She looked around the lobby. Her eyes landed on them.
She approached slowly. Cautiously.
Stopped a few feet away.
"You wanted to speak with me?" she asked.
Her voice was quiet. Guarded.
Mohan stood. Smiled. "Yes. Thank you for coming down. We're conducting background research. Just a brief conversation."
She didn't smile back. "About what?"
"Student housing arrangements. Administrative records from a few years ago."
Her expression didn't change. But something shifted in her eyes.
Recognition.
Fear.
She glanced at Rahul. Then back at Mohan.
"I don't think I can help you," she said quietly.
"It won't take long," Mohan said gently. "Just a few questions."
She hesitated.
Looked back at the elevator.
Then at them again.
"Five minutes," she said. "That's all."