The Reeva tracking dust shimmered like a living mist, swirling ahead of the car as it wound through the narrow jungle road. The four of them — Kiara, Varun, Mishka, and Angad — followed its faint golden trail in silence, the forest thickening around them like a warning.
"Looks like it's leading us off the main road," Angad murmured, easing the car down a dirt path.
Kiara leaned forward, eyes fixed on the glowing fog. "Wherever it ends, that's where she is."
In the backseat, Varun held the half-empty vial of tracking dust. "Good," he said evenly. "About time we stopped chasing shadows." His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp — the focus of a trained Reeva hunter who'd done this a hundred times.
Mishka tilted her head, smiling faintly. "You sound almost disappointed, Varun. Hoping for a fight?"
"Not hoping," he said, loading his small silver-bladed knife. "Just prepared."
The mist began to thin and finally settled in front of a lonely cottage, tucked between overgrown trees. The setting sun painted the place in shades of orange and gold, deceptively calm.
Angad parked behind a fallen log. "End of the trail," he whispered. "Let's move."
They slipped out quietly, their footsteps soft on the leaves. Kiara crouched near a fence post, peering through a gap. Her breath hitched as the door creaked open.
A woman stepped out.
Aishwarya.
Alive.
She wore a long beige coat and dark glasses, her hair slightly messy but her expression smug. She dragged two bags — one stuffed with clothes, the other with cash. She crouched beside a stone, zipping them up with a little self-satisfied laugh.
"First thing tomorrow," she muttered to herself, "I'll deposit this and book my flight to London. Far from Yuvaan, far from all of them. They'll never know."
Kiara's fists clenched. "That witch…" she whispered. "She faked her own death."
Mishka's eyes glimmered. "And used someone else's body to frame Yuvaan. That's darker than I expected, even for her."
Varun's voice was calm but hard. "She staged the fire. Burned another woman alive — Divya Bhatra. We've dealt with killers before, but this…" He looked toward the cottage. "This is personal now."
Angad shifted impatiently. "Then why are we still watching her? Let's grab her before she vanishes again."
Kiara stopped him with a sharp glance. "No. If we catch her now, we'll lose proof. The police already believe Yuvaan killed her. We need to expose her smartly, not recklessly."
Varun crossed his arms. "You're learning," he said approvingly. "We'll let her move first — then strike when the trap is ready."
Aishwarya zipped her bags, oblivious to the eyes watching from the trees. She tossed her hair and whispered to herself, "Goodbye, India. Goodbye, Yuvaan."
Kiara's gaze didn't waver. Her voice dropped low, calm but seething.
"You won't get far, Aishwarya. Your lies just burned the wrong man."
The wind picked up, carrying ashes from somewhere far away.
It almost sounded like the whisper of a promise — vengeance, cloaked in patience.
street glowing dimly under the flicker of tired streetlights. Aishwarya hurried down the lane, her heels clicking against the pavement, clutching her heavy bags — one full of clothes, the other full of cash. The firelight from the cottage still flickered faintly in the distance, a grim echo of the corpse she left behind.
She exhaled shakily. "Almost there. Just a few more turns and I'll be out of this cursed city."
But as she reached the next corner, something strange caught her eye — a silhouette standing in the middle of the road. The figure didn't move. The light above buzzed, flickered, then steadied, revealing a familiar face.
Kiara.
Aishwarya froze, color draining from her cheeks. "K–Kiara?"
Kiara tilted her head innocently, eyes gleaming under the pale glow. "You look like you've seen a ghost." She took a few slow steps forward, her heels echoing softly. "Oh wait… maybe you are one. A ghost carrying a bag of cash?"
Aishwarya's grip on the bag tightened. Panic flickered behind her eyes, but she forced a mocking laugh. "You can't scare me with your little games, Kiara. I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh really?" Kiara's smile turned razor-sharp. "Then why don't we clear that confusion?"
Aishwarya spun around to run — only to stop dead in her tracks.
Varun stepped out of the shadows to her left. Mishka appeared to her right, her dark eyes glinting with daayan energy. And behind her, Angad blocked the narrow exit, his expression firm, no trace of his usual humor.
The air grew tense. Aishwarya's bravado faltered. "You can't do this… I'll scream—"
"Go ahead," Varun said calmly. "We'll tell the police the dead woman is shouting."
Before Aishwarya could react, Kiara raised a small, ornate dagger — its blade glowing faintly blue. She stepped closer, voice cold but steady. "You wanted to play with fire, Aishwarya. Now you'll burn on your own words."
Aishwarya tried to back away, but Mishka's spell froze her momentarily in place — just long enough for Kiara to pierce the dagger lightly into her arm. The blade didn't draw blood, only a shimmer of blue light spreading through her veins before fading.
Aishwarya gasped, stumbling back. "Wh–what did you do?"
Kiara lowered the blade, her expression unreadable. "A little something from the Reeva vault. Truth serum — the magical kind. It doesn't just make you speak the truth, Aishwarya. It drags it out of your soul."
Aishwarya's lips trembled. "You—you can't—"