The countdown began at midnight.
Twelve hours.
That was all the time Zyan had before the person holding his parents decided which one of them would live and which one would die.
The mansion had transformed into a command center. Security personnel moved through every corridor while Harry's people worked from the underground operations room, tracing phone signals, analyzing surveillance footage, and searching every vehicle that had entered or left the surrounding area. Yet despite the activity around him, Zyan stood completely still in front of the large monitor displaying the three photographs.
His parents.
Prema.
Three lives reduced to a cruel equation.
He hated the person who had created it.
But what frightened him more was that the enemy knew exactly where to strike.
Harry approached him with a tablet. "We've identified the signal used to send the photographs."
Zyan turned. "Where?"
"Three different locations."
"That makes no sense."
"It does if they were using a relay network. The first signal bounced through a tower near the eastern highway. The second came through a server registered in another state. The third appeared to originate from a private network inside the city."
Zyan's eyes narrowed. "Inside the city?"
Harry nodded. "And there's more."
He turned the tablet toward him.
"We found a hidden communication channel inside your mansion's security network."
Zyan looked at the screen.
"Someone has been transmitting data from this house."
"When?"
Harry hesitated.
"For months."
Prema, who had been sitting nearby with Satya, immediately stood.
"Months?"
Harry nodded.
"Your movements, Zyan's movements, security schedules, family events. Whoever did this wasn't simply monitoring you recently. They had long-term access."
Zyan looked toward his sister.
She had gone pale.
"Who has access to the system?" she asked.
"That's what we're trying to determine."
"Then start with everyone," Zyan said.
His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath it.
"No exceptions."
Harry nodded and walked away.
Prema watched Zyan for a moment before approaching him.
"You haven't eaten."
"I don't care."
"You should."
"Prema—"
"You told me I couldn't let fear control my life. The same applies to you."
He looked at her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Zyan gave a quiet, almost humorless smile.
"You're becoming very difficult."
"I was difficult before you met me."
"That is true."
A faint smile touched her lips.
It disappeared quickly.
"Do you really think we can save them?"
Zyan didn't answer immediately.
"I don't know," he finally said.
The honesty surprised her.
He had always seemed certain. Even when facing danger, he carried himself like someone who believed every problem had a solution.
Tonight, for the first time, Prema saw the uncertainty beneath that confidence.
She reached for his hand.
Zyan looked down.
Her fingers were resting gently against his.
"You don't have to pretend with me," she said.
His gaze softened.
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost them."
"You won't face it alone."
His eyes lifted to hers.
"Neither will you."
Before she could respond, Harry returned.
"We found something."
Zyan immediately released Prema's hand and followed him.
The operations room was filled with screens. One of the technicians had enlarged a section of security footage from earlier that evening.
A staff member was walking through the north corridor.
At first, nothing seemed unusual.
Then the technician slowed the footage.
The staff member stopped near a decorative wall.
He looked around.
Then he removed a small device from his pocket and placed it behind the panel.
Harry pointed toward the screen.
"That device was transmitting the security data."
"Who is he?" Zyan asked.
The technician brought up his personnel record.
Vikram Rao — Security Systems Supervisor.
Zyan stared at the photograph.
"I know him."
"He's worked here for eight years," Harry said. "He had access to almost every internal security system."
"Where is he?"
Harry's expression darkened.
"Gone."
Zyan's jaw tightened.
"Find him."
"We already tried tracking his phone."
"And?"
"It was destroyed two hours ago."
Zyan looked back at the footage.
"Go back."
The technician replayed it.
Prema suddenly noticed something.
"Stop there."
The footage froze.
"What?" Harry asked.
She pointed toward the corridor.
"Behind him."
The technician zoomed in.
A small framed painting hung on the wall.
But the frame was slightly crooked.
Prema stared at it.
"I saw that."
Zyan turned toward her. "Where?"
"In the photograph of your mother."
Harry immediately understood.
He pulled up the kidnapping video.
The room where Zyan's mother was being held appeared on screen.
Behind her was a painting.
The same painting.
Prema's heart began beating faster.
"That isn't a coincidence."
Harry zoomed in on the background.
The painting was identical.
Zyan stared at the screen.
"They're not in some random warehouse."
Harry nodded slowly.
"They're somewhere connected to your family."
"Or somewhere designed to look connected," Zyan replied.
Prema stepped closer.
"Can you identify the painting?"
Harry enlarged it.
A small brass plaque was visible beneath the frame.
The words were difficult to read.
The technician sharpened the image.
MALIK ESTATE — EAST WING.
Everyone in the room froze.
Zyan turned toward his sister.
"Is there an east wing?"
She nodded.
"But it's been closed for years."
"Why?"
"My grandfather sealed it after the old fire."
Zyan looked at Harry.
"Take me there."
Harry immediately shook his head. "If this is a trap—"
"It probably is."
"Then you're not going."
Zyan stared at him.
Harry didn't back down.
"You're exactly what they want inside that wing."
"And my parents may be there."
"Which is why I'm going first."
Zyan's expression hardened.
Harry stepped closer.
"You're too emotionally involved."
Zyan almost laughed.
"You think I don't know that?"
"I think you know it and don't care."
For several seconds, the two men stared at each other.
Then Zyan nodded.
"Fine."
Harry looked surprised.
"You go first."
Prema spoke before Harry could answer.
"I'll come too."
Both men turned toward her.
"No," Zyan said immediately.
Prema crossed her arms.
"You just agreed not to control me."
"This isn't control. This is danger."
"Everything around you is danger now."
"That doesn't mean you walk toward it."
"And if the person behind all of this expects me to stay behind?"
Zyan fell silent.
Prema continued, "They've been watching me for months. They know my habits. They know your family. They know your security. Maybe there's something I can recognize that none of you can."
Harry exchanged a look with Zyan.
She had a point.
Zyan hated that she had a point.
"You stay behind me," he finally said.
Prema raised an eyebrow.
"You don't get to order me around."
His lips twitched despite the situation.
"Then stay close to me."
"That I can agree to."
Satya immediately stepped forward.
"I'm coming too."
"No," Zyan and Prema said together.
Satya looked offended.
"I was just trying to be supportive."
"You can support us by staying somewhere safe," Prema said.
Satya sighed. "Fine. But if you two disappear, I'm blaming both of you."
They left the operations room with Harry and six armed security personnel.
The corridor leading toward the abandoned east wing was darker than the rest of the mansion. Dust covered the floor, and the air smelled faintly of old wood and something metallic.
Zyan walked beside Prema.
His hand brushed hers once.
Neither moved away.
At the end of the corridor stood an enormous wooden door.
Harry examined the lock.
"It's been opened recently."
Zyan looked at him.
"How recently?"
Harry touched the metal.
"Still warm."
Prema's heart jumped.
Someone had been there.
Recently.
Harry slowly opened the door.
The darkness beyond seemed to swallow the light from the corridor.
They entered.
The room was empty.
Too empty.
No furniture.
No people.
No sign of Zyan's parents.
Then Prema noticed something on the floor.
A photograph.
She bent down.
Her hands trembled when she picked it up.
It was a photograph of herself.
Taken at the temple.
The same day Zyan had first seen her.
On the back was a handwritten message.
THIS IS WHERE IT BEGAN.
Zyan took the photograph from her hand.
His expression changed.
"Prema."
"What?"
He turned the photograph over.
There was another line beneath the first.
AND THIS IS WHERE IT ENDS.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them.
The lights came on.
A screen descended from the ceiling.
Zyan instinctively pulled Prema behind him.
The screen flickered.
Then the face of the masked man appeared.
He was smiling.
"Welcome home, Zyan."
Zyan stared at him.
"Where are my parents?"
The man leaned closer to the camera.
"You still don't understand."
"What?"
"This was never about your parents."
The screen changed.
A live image appeared.
Prema froze.
It showed her hostel room.
Her bed.
Her books.
Her photographs.
Her entire private life.
Then the camera shifted.
Someone was standing inside the room.
A woman.
Prema recognized her immediately.
Her breath caught.
"Satya?"
The masked man smiled.
"Now, Zyan…"
The screen displayed a new message.
ELEVEN HOURS REMAIN.
Then the image went black.
And somewhere behind them, a lock clicked into place.