I'm sorry, baby. Mama's so sorry.
Upstairs, the silence shattered.
Frantic pounding on the door. Desperate. Terrified.
"Help! Please! Someone, if you're inside, open the door! They're going to eat me!"
The voice was raw, strangled with panic.
The girl froze where she'd been hiding behind the couch. She'd followed Mama's instructions. Locked the door. Waited. But the sound — so loud, so close — made her eyes go wide.
The man screamed again. Louder this time. More desperate.
She stood slowly, clutching her rabbit. Mama said to wait for her or Papa. But the man outside sounded so scared. He needed help.
Her hand reached for the lock.
Slowly, the bolt slid back.
She opened the door just a crack, peeking through.
A man stood there. Tall. Smeared with something dark that looked wet. His head tilted at a strange angle.
Then he spoke. His voice came out strained but clear.
"Thank God. Please, open the door. Let me in. They're coming. They'll eat me."
He looked hurt. Just a regular person who needed help. He sounded so scared.
She didn't think. She just pulled the door open and stepped aside.
The man stumbled in. She slammed the door shut behind him and locked it again, just like Mama taught her.
Outside, groans echoed. Footsteps shuffled past.
Inside, the man collapsed against the wall, breathing hard.
"Thank you," he gasped. "Thank you. You saved my life."
The girl nodded, still holding her rabbit tight.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"Mama said not to tell strangers."
"Smart." He smiled weakly. "My name's Vikram. I live upstairs. 7B."
"Are you sick?"
"No. Just scared." He looked at her. "Are you here alone?"
"Mama said to wait for her or Papa."
"That's good. That's very good." Vikram looked around the apartment, then back at the door. "We should stay quiet. And keep that door locked. Okay?"
She nodded.
And together, they waited.
NOW
"Your name?" Reyan asked, studying the man who'd saved his daughter.
The stranger lowered his knife slowly, reading the tension in the room. "Vikram," he said. "Vikram Mehta. I lived in 7B. Two floors up."
Reyan processed it. Name. Apartment. A neighbor. That made sense. Sort of.
"I'm Reyan. This is Samir and Taj." He paused. "And... thank you. For saving my daughter. I don't know how to—"
"Don't." Vikram held up a hand. "If anyone should be thanking anyone, it should be me. She saved my life."
Reyan blinked. "What?"
Vikram looked at the girl, still wrapped in her blanket, watching them with wide eyes.
"I was upstairs when it started. Heard the screaming. Grabbed what I could and ran. Made it down to the fifth floor before they cornered me." He looked back at Reyan. "I was pounding on doors, screaming for help. Your daughter—" He gestured toward her. "She opened the door. Pulled me inside and locked it again before those things could follow."
A bitter smile crossed his face.
"A seven-year-old saved me because I was too panicked to think straight. Some adult I am."
Reyan looked at his daughter. She'd been alone. Terrified. And she'd still found the courage to save a stranger.
His chest tightened.
"You did good, baby," he said softly. "You did so good."
"Is Mama coming home?" she asked. Her voice was so small.
The question hung in the air like a blade.
Reyan felt everyone's eyes on him. Samir and Taj looked away. Vikram suddenly found the floor very interesting.
Reyan crouched down to her level, forcing calm into his voice.
"Mama is... she's in a safer place right now, honey. She can't come home yet, but she's safe. She wanted me to tell you that she loves you very much."
"But the people outside." Her lip trembled. "They're mad, right? Papa, are they mad at us?"
"They're..." Reyan swallowed hard. "They're sick, baby. Very sick. And yes, they're angry, but not at you. Never at you."
"Is Mama sick too?"
Yes. She's dead. I killed her. I drove a knife into her heart and watched her die in my arms.
"No, honey. Mama's fine. She's just... she'll come back when it's safe. I promise."
Another promise. Another lie.
She nodded and clutched her blanket tighter. Reyan stood, his knuckles white at his sides.
When he looked up, Samir was staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite read.
"We need to talk," Samir said quietly. "In the other room."
They moved to the bedroom — Reyan and Priya's bedroom, where the bed was still unmade from two days ago when the world was normal. Laundry sat folded in a basket that would never be put away. A book lay open on the nightstand, bookmark halfway through.
Samir closed the door.
"You lied to her," he said flatly.
"What was I supposed to say?" Reyan's voice came out sharp. Defensive. "That her mother's dead? That I—"
His voice cut off. Brutal and raw.
"She's seven. She needs hope."
"I know." Samir's tone softened. "But she deserves the truth."
"The truth will destroy her."
"The lie will destroy her more." Samir ran a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted. "Reyan, I get it. I do. But we can't build whatever this is—" He gestured vaguely at the apartment, at the group of survivors beyond the door. "—on lies. It'll fall apart."
"Then let it fall apart later," Reyan snapped. "Right now, she needs hope. Even if it's false hope."
Samir was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded toward the closed door.
"And what about him?"
"Vikram?"
"Yeah. Do we trust him?"
"He saved my daughter."
"Or he's been holed up here with her for a day and a half, and we only have his word for what happened." Samir's voice was calm but pointed. "I'm not saying he's lying. I'm saying we don't know him. He could be dangerous."
"He's a survivor. Just like us."
"So were half the people we killed to get here." Samir crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not telling you to throw him out. I'm just saying... watch him. Keep your eyes open. For her sake."
Reyan looked at the closed door. Beyond it, he could hear Taj trying to make his daughter laugh. Vikram's quiet voice offering her water.
"You think I'm making a mistake," Reyan said.
"I think you're doing what you have to do to keep your daughter safe." Samir met his eyes. "I'm just making sure you don't forget to keep yourself safe too."
A pause.
"We should rest," Samir said finally. "Figure out our next move in the morning."
"What next move? We're trapped here."
"For now. But we can't stay forever. Food will run out. Water. We need a plan."
Reyan nodded slowly. He felt so tired. Bone-deep tired. The kind that sleep wouldn't fix.
"Yeah. Okay. Tomorrow."
Samir hesitated at the door. "My sister," he said quietly. "Vaishali district. It's not far from here. Maybe... maybe we could—"
"We'll find her," Reyan said, meeting his eyes. "Once we figure out how to move safely. We'll find her."
Samir's jaw tightened. He nodded once. "Thanks."
"You came with me to find my family. It's only right."
"Yeah, well." Samir managed a weak smile. "Let's hope she's as lucky as your daughter."
He stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Reyan sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.
Two families. Two promises.
And a city full of the dead standing between them.