"The EYES....they never lie."
The sun was setting, and the sky burned orange. I stood in front of the colony gate, the wind lashing violently against my skin. I turned my eyes toward the colony. Most houses lay in darkness. A few glowed faintly, but there were no sounds—no voices, no life.
I pushed the gate. It groaned open with a long, aching creak.
I walked to the heart of the colony and stopped before the charred ruins of the house where Aanchal once lived. The air felt heavier here. Night fell in my mind. I remembered.
Raju died here. Thrown inside like garbage. This house had become his pyre.
He didn't scream then. But now—now I hear his screams.
Sarla never said much about this house. Maybe he got tired of beating around the bush. Or maybe, just maybe, he was afraid of what the truth might uncover.
A gentle yet firm touch startled me.
I spun around. Meera stood behind me, a playful chuckle escaping her lips.
"Were you scared?"
My heart thudded in my chest. "Of course. You startled me. Was it you who messaged me?"
"It was Mathur Uncle," she said, shrugging. "He likes to be dramatic."
"Why? What's going on?" My expression tensed.
"Oh, nothing we should discuss out here." She grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside Mathur Uncle's house.
Inside, Mr. Mathur, Antony, and a sharply dressed man in a tuxedo sat in the living room. The stranger's posture was unnervingly poised. I offered a polite greeting. The man leaned toward Mr. Mathur and whispered something. Mr. Mathur gave a curt nod.
"He's the guy I was telling you about," Mr. Mathur said, gesturing toward me. "He was in Goa a few weeks ago."
"Hmm," the man replied with a hum barely above a breath.
A cold unease settled in my chest. "What's going on? Something serious?"
The man didn't answer. Mr. Mathur's voice cut through.
"Do you know someone named Avinash Sinha?"
My throat went dry. "Why?"
Sweat beaded on my forehead.
Mr. Mathur waved his hand casually, almost dismissively. "Relax. He's dead. Killed, in fact. Honestly, the bastard deserved it. But his brother, Abhinav, doesn't think so. He's hell-bent on finding the killer—just like Sarla was."
He leaned forward. "Abhinav and Sarla are close. Very close. And recently, Abhinav got intel that the killer might be hiding here."
My chest tightened. "How...am I involved?"
"You're not," Meera said with a too-sweet smile. "But the killer's description Abhinav gave us... matches you. Almost perfectly."
I froze. "What?" The word exploded out of me.
"Don't panic," she said smoothly. "Abhinav's coming here personally. He'll search for anyone matching the description."
"And?"
"And," Meera's smile returned, "I want you to meet him. Tomorrow. With Sarla."
I walked into my room. Outside, the rain poured down in thick sheets, blurring the world beyond the glass. I sat near the window, watching it fall, my thoughts spiraling.
If Abhinav finds me and tells Sarla the truth, I'm screwed. There would be no choice left—I'd have to run. But if it comes to that, everything Sumeet and I did… it would be for nothing.
"Wanna have coffee?"
I turned. Sumeet stood beside me, holding two steaming cups.
"I don't know," I said with a frown. "I'm not feeling well."
"Why? What happened?" he asked, settling beside me and placing a hand on my shoulder.
I told him everything—the whole incident in Goa.
"Fuck," he muttered, snapping his fingers. "You killed someone. Just like that. No remorse." He looked at me, eyes wide. "You're more dangerous than the criminals we're chasing."
"I had no choice," I said, trying to ease the tension in my voice.
Sumeet looked away, exhaling sharply. "If this blows up, we're done. VPS is already arrested—we should've been in London by now. Sir Henderson will bury us if he finds out about your little stunt."
"I can't face Abhinav," I said, panic rising in my chest. "He'll recognize me instantly."
Sumeet glared. "What the hell do you want me to do about that?"
"Do something," I whispered, collapsing to my knees.
There was a long silence. Then Sumeet sighed.
"Fine. I'll do something."
He walked out of the room.
Sarla was sitting on the verandah, humming some song, when the sound of anklets put a smile on his face. "How come today my wife is here?" He sneered.
"Why? Can I come here? I grew up playing on this verandah. Father used to sit and teach me the alphabet here."
Meera sat near Sarla, who still kept his eyes closed.
"You want to tell me something?"
Sarla opened his eyes slowly.
"How did you know?" Meera twitched her nose.
"Experience." Sarla grinned. "Nothing special. I was a little worried."
Meera frowned.
"Why? What happened?" Sarla looked at her eyes.
"Abhinav is coming here. I don't like that guy much. He is arrogant and harsh. Talks with a belittling tone. He is a mountain of bad qualities. I don't even understand why you made him your friend?" Meera hurled her words like arrows.
Sarla smiled. "Apparently you have a problem with everyone I am connected with. You have problems with my brothers, you have problems with my friends and you even have a problem with me. Sometimes."
"That's not true. You always associate yourself with filthy people or at least never try to change them. Raju had issues which remained unsolved till his end, Mukesh is no different either. The list is too long."
Meera shrugged.
"Fine. I have a fetish of "filthy" people. Happy?" Sarla rolled his eyes.
"It's always the same with you. Every time I try to talk sensibly, you avoid it with jokes."
Meera bellowed. "I am the one joking? You are the one who decided to come here and whin about Abhinav for God knows what reason."
Sarla grunted. "It is impossible to even sit with you for a moment without creating a scene."
Meera rose. "You are pathetic. Just pathetic!" Meera walked away briskly.
Sarla sighed heavily.
"Never marry."
Sarla and Mukesh stood quietly at the riverbank as the boat approached, slicing through the water with practiced ease. It stopped with a soft thud against the shore. A moment later, Abhinav stepped out, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He opened his arms. "Sarla. How are you, my brother?"
Sarla embraced him briefly. "I'm fine. Sorry to hear about Avinash. He was a free soul."
Abhinav's smile faded. "That he was."
There was a short silence. The sound of water lapping at the shore filled the gap between them.
Abhinav looked around. "Where's the man you mentioned?"
Sarla waved a hand. "What's the hurry? You just got here. Let's get something to eat first. It's been a while since you were home."
Abhinav didn't argue, but his eyes remained sharp. "Call him over."
Sarla turned to Mukesh. "Go tell Suraj to meet me at my house. We'll be in the dining room."
Mukesh nodded and hurried off.
Abhinav rested a hand on Sarla's shoulder. "I heard about Raju on the way. I'm sorry."
Sarla let out a long sigh. "Same as Avinash. Burned alive."
Abhinav lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face. "You find the one who did it?"
Sarla took the cigarette from him and inhaled deeply. "Not yet. Too many suspects. Too many enemies. This place is boiling beneath the surface."
Abhinav lit another cigarette of his own. "Antony?"
Sarla nodded slowly. "He's at the top of the list. But I doubt he acted alone."
Abhinav stared at the horizon. "Of course not. No one ever does."
Sarla took another drag, then flicked the cigarette into the river. "Come on. Let's go."
Without another word, the two men turned and began walking toward the house, silence stretching between them like a shared burden.
Sarla and Abhinav sat quietly at the dining table, the late afternoon light slanting through the window. Abhinav scrolled through his phone, absorbed, until Sarla nudged his shoulder gently.
"Suraj is here."
Abhinav looked up just as Mukesh entered the room, followed by me, Sumeet, and Meera. His gaze immediately settled on the group. He stood, eyes narrowing slightly, and walked toward us. Without a word, he circled us slowly, as if assessing a lineup.
Then, he returned to his seat beside Sarla and lit a cigarette.
"You think that's your man?" Sarla asked, watching him and pointing finger towards me.
Abhinav exhaled a plume of smoke and leaned back. "That chubby guy… he does resemble him. But no, I don't think this fatty's the one I saw."
Sarla raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"The man I saw that night moved like a tiger—fierce, quick, precise. This one," Abhinav paused, glancing at Harsh again, "he doesn't radiate that. He looks too grounded. Too soft. But maybe," he added with a smirk, "he can help me find the one who killed my brother."
Sarla sighed, his fingers drumming the edge of the table. "If you believe that, I won't stop you."
Abhinav stubbed out the cigarette and stood. He approached me, looked me in the eye.
"Come with me," he said. "Let's see if you're useful."
Without waiting for a response, Abhinav turned and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the hallway.
I walked toward Abhinav, who was standing beside a dusty jeep.
"New here?" he asked, flicking his cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot.
"You can say so," I replied, trying to keep my tone polite.
His eyes narrowed, sharp as blades. "Were you in Goa anytime this year? Especially last month?"
I kept my gaze low. "I was on a job. Sarla can vouch for it."
He stepped closer, then slapped me hard on the back. "You resemble that bastard a lot. If you were just a bit fairer—and thinner—you'd be a corpse right now."
Without waiting for a response, he climbed into the jeep. "We start tomorrow. Don't disappoint me. I hate disappointments."
The engine roared to life, and he sped off, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.
I waved my hand to clear the air.
"Why didn't he recognise me?" I muttered to myself. "Am I really that different now… or is he playing a deeper, more dangerous game?"
I turned and headed back to my room, the weight of suspicion settling heavily on my shoulders...