The journey to Jodhpur was tense. Each passing mile felt like stepping deeper into a battlefield where unseen forces moved against them. If Samar Pratap Singh was still alive, he was their best shot at uncovering the truth about Veer Meghawal's betrayal. But if Devashish had already found him…
Satya pushed the thought away. They had to try.
The university where Samar had once taught was a grand, colonial-era structure. By day, it was bustling with students, but by night, it held the weight of forgotten stories.
Aryan had managed to pull some old faculty records. "His last known residence was a rented house near the outskirts of the city. But after he disappeared, the lease was terminated."
Virendra glanced at the dimly lit streets. "Then we start there."
They reached the house in silence. The building stood like a relic of a past long abandoned—windows sealed, doors bolted shut. But something felt… off.
Satya tested the door. Locked. But the dust on the handle had been recently disturbed. Someone had been here.
Saanvi whispered, "Are we sure no one lives here anymore?"
Before anyone could answer, a faint shuffle sounded from inside.
Everyone froze.
Then—the locks clicked open from within.
The door creaked, revealing a gaunt, sharp-eyed man with graying hair. His clothes were disheveled, his eyes weary. But there was something else in them. Recognition.
"You shouldn't be here," he murmured.
"Samar Pratap Singh?" Satya asked cautiously.
The man's grip on the door tightened. He studied them in silence before stepping aside. "Come in. Quickly."
They entered, and he locked the door behind them. Inside, the place was cluttered with books, scattered papers, and stacks of old photographs. The smell of aged ink filled the air.
Samar walked to a dusty shelf and pulled out a folder, tossing it onto the table. "If you're here, that means you've stirred the hornet's nest."
Satya met his gaze. "We need to know the truth about Veer Meghawal."
Samar exhaled sharply. "Then you're already in danger." He flipped open the folder, revealing sketches, notes, and records long erased from history.
"Veer wasn't just executed," Samar said grimly. "He was silenced."
A chill ran through the room.
Saanvi leaned in. "Who betrayed him?"
Samar hesitated. His fingers hovered over a name, written in bold ink on one of the pages.
Then—a loud crash from outside.
Headlights flooded the windows.
Satya's heart pounded. They weren't alone.