Pranati's scooter rolled to a stop outside the house, the engine cutting off with a soft sputter. She sat still for a moment, hands resting on the handles, as if grounding herself before stepping back into normal life.
Jassi appeared at the doorway almost instantly, arms folded. "Where were you the whole morning?" she asked, her tone sharp with irritation disguised as worry. "Do you know how late it is?"
Pranati removed her helmet, brushing her hair back. "I… I saw an accident," she said quietly. "It was bad. I fainted because of the shock. When I woke up, I was in the hospital."
Jassi's eyes widened at once. She rushed forward, placing her hands on Pranati's shoulders. "Hai Ram!" she exclaimed. "Hospital? Why didn't anyone call us?" Her voice trembled just enough to sound concerned. "Are you okay? You should have told someone!"
Pranati nodded slowly. "The doctor said it was shock. I don't remember what happened after the accident. Just… noise. Screams. Then nothing."
Jassi clicked her tongue sympathetically. "Such trauma at your age…" She guided Pranati inside, her grip firm, almost possessive. "You're lucky nothing serious happened. God knows what could have gone wrong."
But as Pranati turned away, Jassi's expression shifted—only for a second. The softness drained from her eyes, replaced by something calculating, something cold.
"Go rest," Jassi said smoothly. "You look exhausted."
Pranati gave a small nod and walked toward her room, unaware of the sharp gaze following her every step.
The door closed.
And Jassi's lips curled faintly, her concern evaporating as quickly as it had appeared.
Jassi waited until the house fell silent.
Only then did her phone vibrate in her palm.
She glanced toward Pranati's closed door once, then stepped aside, lowering her voice as she answered the call. "Haan… I got it."
There was a pause. Jassi's jaw tightened slightly.
"Yes," she said, measured and confident. "The payment has already come. Don't worry about that."
She walked toward the window, drawing the curtain just enough to peer outside. "She doesn't suspect anything," she continued. "The girl is shaken today anyway. Hospital, accident… all of it works in our favor."
Another pause. A faint, rehearsed softness entered her voice. "Convincing her is my responsibility. She listens to me. I'll make sure she performs."
Her fingers curled around the phone. "You'll get what you paid for."
She ended the call without waiting for a response.
For a moment, Jassi stood still, the glow of the screen reflecting in her eyes. Then she slipped the phone into her pocket, her face settling back into its usual mask.
Down the hallway, Pranati shifted in her sleep.
And Jassi smiled—thin, satisfied.
Next Morning
The early morning air clung cool and damp to the balcony.
Arnav moved through his workout in steady, controlled motions—push-ups slow and deliberate, muscles tightening and releasing as he focused on his breathing. Sweat traced a thin line down his spine, catching the pale sunlight filtering through the railings.
Control.
That was the point.
He rose, rolling his shoulders once, when a sound cut through the quiet.
Whip.
Sharp. Sudden.
Like thick hair slicing through air.
Arnav froze.
His breath stalled halfway in his chest. Slowly, he straightened, senses sharpening. The sound echoed again in his mind—too distinct to be imagination.
He turned.
The balcony was empty.
No movement. No shadow. Only the soft rustle of distant trees and the faint hum of the waking city below.
His gaze dropped instinctively to the edge of the railing.
Nothing.
Still, something felt… off.
The air felt heavier, charged in a way he had begun to recognize. His jaw tightened as he scanned the corners, the ceiling, the spaces where darkness liked to hide even in daylight.
"Who's there?" he asked quietly.
No answer.
The silence stretched.
After a moment, Arnav exhaled slowly, forcing his body to relax—but the tension didn't fully leave. His fingers curled unconsciously, as if bracing for something unseen.
From somewhere far below, unseen and amused, a presence lingered… then slipped away.
And Arnav knew one thing with unsettling certainty—
He was not alone anymore.
To be continued…