The car ride was silent.
Not the comfortable kind — but the kind where thoughts scream louder than words. Ishani sat in the passenger seat, her fingers curled around Rhea’s letter in her jacket pocket. She could feel Advit glancing at her now and then, but neither of them spoke.
They drove away from the main roads, deeper into a part of the city she’d never been. It was the kind of place that didn’t exist on tourist maps — abandoned warehouses, rusting streetlights, graffiti-covered buildings.
Finally, he stopped.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“My safehouse,” he said, getting out.
Ishani stepped out slowly. A rundown café stood in front of her, its windows blacked out, the sign above faded and unreadable.
“This?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
Advit gave her a faint smirk. “No one ever looks for secrets in broken places.”
He led her through a hidden side door and up a metal staircase. At the top was a flat, small but clean. Dimly lit. Books stacked messily, a punching bag in one corner, and a map of the city pinned to the wall — marked with red strings, dots, and photos.
Photos of people.
People Ishani didn’t recognize. Except for one.
Rhea.
Her breath caught. “Why is she on this wall?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked to the sink, poured water into a glass, and handed it to her.
“I told you Rhea got involved with something dangerous. I didn’t lie.”
Ishani sat down slowly, heart pounding. “So you were tracking her?”
“I was protecting her,” he corrected, voice firm. “She trusted me. Gave me names. Proof. That flash drive she left you? It wasn’t the only copy. It was just the bait.”
Ishani looked at him, startled. “You mean… you have it?”
He nodded. “But I can’t give it to you. Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because the moment you know the full truth, you become a target — for real. Not just threats. Not just messages under your door. Real bullets. Real people who don’t miss.”
She stood, angry. “I already am a target, Advit. I got dragged into this the second Rhea died. I deserve to know.”
His voice lowered. “And I deserve to keep you alive.”
The words hung in the air.
She didn’t know what surprised her more — that he said it, or how much she wanted to believe it.
For a moment, the room fell quiet.
Just the two of them — two strangers stitched together by grief, guilt, and a promise that was never meant to fall into their hands.
“You’re not what I expected,” she whispered.
“Neither are you,” he replied, softer this time.
Their eyes met. And just for a second, Ishani forgot the danger outside the door. She forgot the walls he had built, the secrets he had buried. Because behind all of that…
…he looked like someone who had already lost too much — and was terrified of losing again.
Write a comment ...