The night had an unusual stillness. Jaipur's monsoon wind carried a sharp chill, whispering through half-open windows, brushing against curtains like unseen fingers.
In her dimly lit room, Siya Kapoor sat cross-legged on her bed, the glow from her phone painting pale shadows across her face.
Dozens of unread messages from Lucy blinked on the screen — each one shorter, colder, emptier than the last. The cheerful tone that used to fill their late-night chats had vanished.
> "She's hiding something," Siya muttered, scrolling again, her voice trembling. "I just know it."
She placed the phone down, staring blankly at the ceiling. It wasn't just Lucy's silence that scared her — it was her change. The girl who once laughed easily now flinched at sudden noises. Her hands trembled when holding a cup of tea. Her eyes darted toward every reflection as though someone — or something — was watching.
Siya tried to rationalize it. Maybe Lucy was just tired, haunted by Sid's death. But deep down, she knew — this was something far worse.
She closed her laptop and hugged her knees, the weight of uncertainty pressing against her chest. Her mind replayed the old days — the way Sid would tease Lucy in the cafeteria, the warmth in Lucy's eyes when she looked at him, the kind of love that didn't need words.
Now, that warmth was gone. Replaced by fear. By guilt.
> "What's coming, Lucy?" she whispered into the silence.
The rain began again, tapping against the windowpane like an uninvited visitor. Outside, Jaipur's streets glowed beneath streetlamps — reflections of gold and crimson swirling in puddles. A city that looked peaceful, but underneath, something was stirring — unseen yet inevitable.
Siya's phone buzzed.
A notification.
She opened it — another system alert from Lucy's encrypted number:
> "Signal compromised. Don't reply."
Her pulse skipped. Signal compromised?
Lucy wasn't just scared. She was running from something.
She rushed to her desk, pulling out a small notebook — her "logic diary," as Sid used to call it.
> "If something doesn't make sense, write until it does," he'd said once.
And so she did.
She scribbled times Lucy left abruptly. Unknown numbers that had called her. The odd symbols in her notebook last week. The pattern forming between everything — a timeline of secrets.
When she looked at it, her stomach turned.
The puzzle didn't lie: Lucy was involved in something dangerous… something connected to Sid's death.
> "I need to know the truth," she murmured. "I won't lose her too."
She snapped her notebook shut and stood by the window. The rain blurred the skyline into smears of orange and black. Somewhere in that darkness, she felt it — a presence, a storm building.
Maybe it was paranoia.
Or maybe it was Nick Verma.
His name still carried a shiver through the Agency. The man who vanished after Sid's mission. The ghost everyone feared but no one dared to speak of.
> "If he's back… then Lucy's in danger," Siya whispered.
She wiped a tear that she didn't remember shedding.
> "I'll protect her. No matter what it takes."
Outside, thunder cracked. The storm raged louder — like fate announcing itself.
And somewhere across the city, Nick's shadow began to move.
The game had quietly begun.
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