That night, Sasmita couldn't breathe peacefully.
Her stepmother kept shouting downstairs—
"Rich boys don't come like this without reason!"
"What is your relationship with him?"
Sasmita stayed silent.
Because she herself didn't know the answer.
When everything became quiet, she locked her room and opened Facebook.
Her fingers trembled as she typed—
Sasmita: "Why did you come like that?"
The reply came instantly.
Srikant: "Because I don't let anyone decide your future."
Her heart skipped.
Sasmita: "You had no right."
For the first time, she sounded angry.
Three dots appeared… disappeared… appeared again.
Then—
Srikant: "Maybe. But I couldn't stay quiet."
She stood up and called him directly.
He answered on the first ring.
"Who are you, Srikant?" she asked, her voice shaking.
There was silence on the other side.
"Just someone who cares about you," he said finally.
"That's not enough! Those cars… those men… the way that man got scared when he saw you… this is not normal."
Her breathing became uneven.
"Tell me the truth."
Another pause.
Then his voice turned deeper. Slower.
"If I tell you everything… you might step away from this train."
The sentence hit her heart.
"Then maybe I should know," she whispered.
Suddenly, she heard noise on his side. Loud voices. Something breaking.
His tone changed instantly.
"Stay inside your house tomorrow. Don't go to college."
"What? Why?"
But the call disconnected.
Her heart started racing again.
Meanwhile—
In a dark underground parking area, Srikant stood in front of a man tied to a chair.
"You went to her house?" Srikant asked calmly.
The man nodded nervously.
"I just wanted to confirm if she is your weakness."
Srikant's eyes turned cold.
"She is not weakness."
"Then what is she?" the man asked, trembling.
For the first time, Srikant didn't answer immediately.
Because even he didn't know.
Next morning, Sasmita ignored his warning and went to college.
Halfway through her lecture, a message came.
Unknown Number:
"Stay away from Srikant. Or you will regret it."
Her phone almost slipped from her hand.
She looked outside the classroom window.
Across the road—
A black SUV was parked.
And someone inside was watching her.
The Love Train was no longer romantic.
It was entering a tunnel…
dark… silent… and dangerous.