The scream cut through the darkness.
Prema instinctively moved closer to Zyan, and his arm came around her waist before either of them could think about it. Harry switched on a tactical light, sweeping the beam across the underground chamber, but the room appeared empty. The monitors had gone black, leaving only their faint reflections in the glass.
"Did you hear that?" Prema whispered.
"I heard it," Zyan replied.
"It sounded like a woman."
Harry was already moving toward the far wall. "The sound came from deeper inside."
Zyan kept Prema beside him as they followed.
A narrow passage appeared behind one of the equipment cabinets. It looked old, almost forgotten, but fresh footprints crossed the dust.
Harry crouched and examined them.
"Someone came through here recently."
Zyan looked at Prema.
"Stay behind me."
She gave him a look.
He sighed.
"Fine. Stay beside me."
"That sounds better."
Despite the danger, the corner of his mouth lifted.
"You're getting used to arguing with me."
"You make it easy."
They continued down the passage.
The deeper they went, the colder it became. The mansion above them seemed impossibly distant now. The stone walls carried every sound, making it difficult to determine whether the footsteps they occasionally heard belonged to someone ahead of them or merely echoed from behind.
Then they reached another door.
It was unlocked.
Harry raised his weapon and entered first.
"Clear."
Zyan stepped inside with Prema.
The room contained only a wooden table, two chairs, and a single lamp.
One chair was empty.
The other wasn't.
Prema stopped breathing.
A woman was sitting there.
Her hands were tied, but she was conscious.
"Mom!"
Zyan rushed forward.
His mother looked up.
"Zyan."
He cut the restraints immediately.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Where's Dad?"
She looked toward the darkness beyond the room.
"He was taken somewhere else."
Zyan's expression tightened.
"Who brought you here?"
"I don't know. Someone came through the security corridor. I barely had time to react."
Prema stepped closer.
"Did you see his face?"
Zyan's mother looked at her.
For a moment, something unreadable crossed her face.
"No."
Then she suddenly grabbed Prema's hand.
"Are you Prema?"
Prema nodded.
Zyan's mother stared at her.
"He told me about you."
Prema's heart stopped.
"Who?"
"The man who brought me here."
Zyan immediately turned toward his mother.
"What did he say?"
"He said you would come looking for me."
Zyan's jaw tightened.
"What else?"
"He said that you would bring her."
His mother's gaze moved toward Prema.
"He knew you would never leave her behind."
Zyan went silent.
Prema felt his hand find hers again.
His mother noticed.
There was no judgment in her eyes.
Only concern.
"You love her," she whispered.
Zyan didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
His mother already knew.
A metallic sound came from the corridor.
Harry immediately raised his weapon.
"Someone's coming."
Zyan moved Prema behind him.
Footsteps approached.
Slow.
Measured.
Then stopped outside the door.
Everyone waited.
Nothing happened.
Harry moved toward the entrance.
Suddenly, the lights returned.
The room was empty outside.
But something had been left on the floor.
A small black box.
Harry carefully examined it before picking it up.
"Don't open it," Zyan said.
"I wasn't planning to."
The box suddenly activated.
A tiny screen lit up.
A countdown appeared.
09:47:12
Prema stared at it.
"What is that?"
Harry's expression darkened.
"The remaining time."
Zyan's mother looked confused.
"Remaining time for what?"
Before anyone could answer, the box played a recorded message.
The masked man's voice filled the room.
"I'm glad you found her."
Zyan stepped toward the device.
"Where is my father?"
"You found one."
The voice laughed softly.
"Now find the second."
Zyan's eyes hardened.
"You won't get away with this."
"I already have."
The recording continued.
"You keep thinking this is a war between you and me. It isn't."
The screen changed.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Zyan's father.
He was standing inside what looked like an abandoned office.
Behind him was a wall covered with photographs.
Prema looked closer.
Her heart dropped.
Among the photographs were Zyan's family.
But there was something else.
A photograph of her parents.
Prema stopped breathing.
She stepped closer to the screen.
"That…"
Zyan looked at her.
"What?"
She pointed.
"My parents."
The room went completely still.
Zyan stared at the photograph.
Prema's parents had died years ago.
There was no reason for anyone connected to this conspiracy to have a photograph of them.
Unless the person behind everything had known them.
The recording continued.
"Now you understand."
Prema's voice trembled.
"Who are you?"
The masked man answered from the recording.
"Someone who remembers what your family forgot."
"My family?"
He laughed.
"No, little one."
The voice became colder.
"Your parents."
Prema felt as though the floor had shifted beneath her.
Zyan immediately turned toward her.
"Don't listen to him."
"But why does he have their photograph?"
"We'll find out."
The recording continued.
"Your parents weren't simply victims of an accident."
Prema froze.
Zyan's expression changed.
"What did you say?"
The man's voice became almost gentle.
"They were silenced."
The recording ended.
Prema stared at the black screen.
Her entire life had been built around one fact.
Her parents were dead.
A tragic accident.
A painful memory she had learned to carry.
Now someone was telling her it had been a lie.
Zyan moved toward her.
"Prema."
She stepped backward.
"No."
He stopped.
"I need to know."
"We'll find out."
"I need the truth."
"And I'll help you find it."
Her eyes filled with tears.
Zyan reached toward her but stopped before touching her.
He waited.
Prema closed the distance herself.
She pressed her forehead against his chest.
His arms slowly wrapped around her.
"I don't know what to believe anymore," she whispered.
"You don't have to decide tonight."
"What if my whole life is a lie?"
"Then we'll uncover every lie."
"What if my parents were killed because of your family?"
Zyan's body became still.
He didn't give her a comforting lie.
"I don't know."
She lifted her head.
"But if that's true," he continued, "I'll find out who was responsible."
"And then?"
His eyes met hers.
"Then I'll stand beside you while you decide what you want to do."
Prema searched his face.
"You won't decide for me?"
"No."
"You won't hide things from me?"
"No."
"Even if the truth hurts?"
His voice lowered.
"Especially then."
For the first time since the nightmare began, Prema believed him.
Then his mother suddenly spoke.
"There is something you need to know."
Zyan turned.
"What?"
"When I was brought here, I heard the man talking to someone."
"Who?"
"I couldn't see them."
"What did they say?"
His mother hesitated.
"They called him…"
She looked at Prema.
"Brother."
Prema's blood ran cold.
Zyan's eyes narrowed.
"Brother?"
His mother nodded.
"And there was another name."
"What name?"
She looked toward the photograph of Prema's parents.
"Arjun."
Prema stopped breathing.
Her father's name was Arjun.
Zyan immediately noticed the change in her face.
"Prema?"
She couldn't answer.
Because suddenly she remembered something from childhood.
A man.
A deep voice.
A silver ring.
And one sentence her father had repeated whenever that man visited their home.
Never trust him.
The memory disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced.
Prema grabbed Zyan's arm.
"I've seen him before."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
She closed her eyes.
"The man in my memory."
Before Zyan could ask another question, every light in the underground corridor switched on simultaneously.
A speaker crackled overhead.
The masked man's voice returned.
"Now, Prema…"
A pause.
"Let's see how much you remember."
A door opened at the end of the corridor.
Someone stepped into the light.
An older man.
Silver hair.
Black suit.
A familiar silver ring.
Prema's face went pale.
Zyan stepped in front of her.
The man smiled.
"Hello, little Prema."
Prema stared at him.
Then the memory finally returned.
He was the last person she had seen before the night her parents died.