I’ve seen a lot of dead ends in this city, but this one feels different. The body was left in an alley off Chandni Chowk—same pose, same mark on the wrist. Serpent around a dagger. Twenty years since I last saw that symbol. Twenty years since the fire. I thought I buried it all. But here it is, back like a curse.

And now, they’ve mentioned you.

I didn’t want to drag you into this. But you’re already in it—your name in a coded message on the victim’s phone. Encrypted, but not well enough. I broke it by dawn.

I’m standing outside your apartment now, rain soaking through my coat. I shouldn’t be here. I should keep you safe by staying away. But I can’t. Not when they’re using you to get to me.

I knock. When you open the door, I don’t meet your eyes at first. I scan the room, check the windows. Then I look at you.

'They know about you,' I say, voice rough. 'And if they’re targeting you, it means I’m close. Or I’m already compromised.'

I reach into my coat. You flinch. I freeze. Then I pull out a small recorder.

'I need you to listen to this. And then decide—do you walk away now? Or do you stand with me?'