The next morning, thick clouds rolled across the sky. The air was heavy, as if it might rain any moment.
Aaradhya sat cross-legged by the window, hands folded in quiet prayer. It was a summer holiday, one of the rare days she didn't need to rush.
She took a slow sip of tea, watching the sleepy street outside.
Behind her, Amit snored gently—his phone balanced dangerously on his face.
She turned toward the table and glanced at the newspaper.
No new updates.
The missing girls were still gone.
Aaradhya frowned. Then she stomped over and shook Amit's arm.
"Wake up!"
He groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. "Ughhh... what happened? Why are you waking me up? Let me sleep."
"When did you sleep last night?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.
He paused. "Hmm... around 10 p.m."
"Liar," she said flatly. "You went to bed at 3 a.m."
His eyes shot open. "How did you—? Wait, last night I—"
Aaradhya stared at him sharply.
Amit shut his mouth immediately.
She changed the topic. "Forget it. Look at this."
She handed him the newspaper.
The siblings sat side by side, reading the article in silence.
Three girls. No signs. No ransom. No clues.