Night had settled into the house like it belonged there.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just… present.
The kind of night where even the walls felt like they were listening.
---
Pranav didn't sleep.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, phone resting on his chest, eyes open but unfocused.
His mind wasn't racing.
It was… calculating.
---
Every word from the messages replayed in loops.
Every reaction at dinner dissected.
Every silence analyzed.
---
His father's response—
Too controlled.
Too quick.
Too dismissive.
---
Shraddha's reaction—
That flicker in her eyes.
That one second.
That wasn't confusion.
That was recognition.
---
Pranav turned his head slightly, staring at the dark window beside him.
His reflection stared back.
But it didn't feel like just a reflection.
It felt like someone else watching.
---
"Don't trust anyone in that house."
---
He let out a slow breath.
"Great," he whispered. "So now I trust ghosts?"
---
His phone buzzed.
He picked it up instantly.
Arjun.
---
Arjun: Tu soya nahi abhi tak?
Pranav: Data mila?
Arjun: Bhai tu insaan hai ya investigation machine?
Pranav: Answer.
---
A pause.
Typing…
---
Arjun: Thoda mila hai. But ajeeb hai.
---
Pranav sat up immediately.
Now he was awake.
---
Pranav: Bol.
---
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then came the message—
---
Arjun:
Flight manifest mein naam hai — Ishani Krishna.
But…
---
Pranav's grip tightened.
---
Pranav: But kya?
---
Another pause.
Longer this time.
---
Arjun:
Boarding record incomplete hai.
Matlab entry hai… but exit confirmation nahi hai.
---
Pranav's heartbeat didn't speed up.
It slowed.
Dangerously calm.
---
Pranav: Matlab?
---
Arjun:
Matlab system ke hisaab se wo plane mein chadhi…
Par officially utari hi nahi.
---
Silence.
Complete.
---
Pranav stared at the screen.
Then slowly stood up.
---
"Not possible," he whispered.
---
Unless—
---
His mind snapped into place.
---
She never reached the destination.
---
But that didn't mean she died.
---
His thoughts accelerated now.
Connecting dots.
Breaking assumptions.
---
"Plane crash…" he murmured. "Or cover-up?"
---
His phone buzzed again.
---
Arjun:
Aur sun… aur bhi ajeeb cheez hai.
---
Pranav didn't reply.
He just waited.
---
Arjun:
Flight ke baad kuch private jet movements hue the.
Sydney se Perth… Perth se Melbourne… phir Adelaide… phir wapas Melbourne.
---
Pranav's eyes narrowed.
---
"Cities…" he whispered.
---
A pattern.
There was always a pattern.
---
But before he could think further—
---
A sound.
---
Soft.
Barely there.
---
From outside his room.
---
He froze.
---
Not fear.
Not panic.
Just… awareness.
---
Slowly, quietly, he walked toward the door.
Every step controlled.
Measured.
---
He opened it slightly.
---
The hallway was dim.
Only a faint yellow light from the corner lamp.
---
And then—
He saw her.
---
Shraddha.
---
Standing near the staircase.
Looking… not at him.
But at something else.
---
At the wall.
---
More specifically—
At a framed photograph.
---
Pranav stepped out.
Silent.
Watching.
---
She didn't move.
Didn't notice him.
Or maybe—
She did.
And chose not to react.
---
He followed her line of sight.
---
The photograph.
---
His mother.
Ishani.
Smiling.
Alive.
---
Shraddha's fingers slowly rose—
And lightly touched the frame.
---
Not casually.
Not curiously.
---
Familiar.
---
Pranav's eyes sharpened.
---
"Couldn't sleep?" he said.
---
She froze.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Then turned.
---
"No," she said softly.
---
Her voice was normal.
Too normal.
---
"Or just visiting?" he asked.
---
A pause.
---
"I was just…" she hesitated slightly, "looking."
---
"At what?" he asked.
---
She glanced at the photograph.
Then back at him.
---
"At her."
---
Simple answer.
Too simple.
---
Pranav stepped closer.
---
"You knew her?" he asked.
---
Shraddha didn't respond immediately.
Her eyes lingered on the photograph again.
---
"I've heard about her," she said.
---
"From him?" Pranav asked.
---
A slight nod.
---
"That's it?"
---
She looked at him now.
Directly.
---
"What else should there be?" she asked.
---
Pranav held her gaze.
Longer this time.
Testing.
Pushing.
---
"People don't look at strangers like that," he said quietly.
---
Something flickered again.
There.
Gone.
---
"You notice a lot," she said.
---
"I remember a lot," he corrected.
---
Silence stretched.
---
Then—
She spoke.
Slowly.
Carefully.
---
"She seems like someone who didn't deserve what happened."
---
That line—
Hit differently.
---
Pranav's expression hardened instantly.
---
"What happened?" he asked.
---
Shraddha blinked.
---
"The crash," she said.
---
Too quick.
---
Too corrected.
---
Pranav stepped even closer now.
---
"You almost said something else," he said.
---
"No, I didn't."
---
"Yeah," he said quietly. "You did."
---
For a moment—
Neither moved.
---
Then—
She stepped back.
Just slightly.
---
"You're overthinking again," she said.
---
"There's no such thing," Pranav replied.
---
Another pause.
---
Then she turned.
---
"Goodnight, Pranav."
---
And walked away.
---
No explanation.
No defense.
No fear.
---
That was the problem.
---
Pranav stood there.
Looking at the photograph.
Then at the empty hallway.
---
His mind was no longer guessing.
---
It was concluding.
---
"She knows something."
---
Behind him—
A floorboard creaked.
---
He turned instantly.
---
Nothing.
---
Empty.
---
But this time—
It didn't feel empty.
---
It felt watched.
---
He walked back into his room slowly.
Closed the door.
Locked it.
---
His phone buzzed again.
---
Arjun:
Aur ek cheez…
Pilot ka naam Andrew tha.
Official report ke hisaab se crash mein mar gaya.
---
Pranav typed—
Aur unofficial?
---
Reply came instantly.
---
Arjun:
Unofficially… uska death certificate suspicious hai.
Time mismatch. Location mismatch.
---
Pranav's lips curved slowly.
---
There it was.
---
"Game on," he whispered.
---
He looked toward the door one last time.
---
Then at the message—
---
"Don't trust anyone in that house."
---
This time—
He didn't question it.
---
He accepted it.
---
And somewhere in the house—
Something shifted.