The rain poured through the broken window.
The symbol on the floor slowly began to fade as water spread across it—but the message remained clear in Aanya's mind.
You were wrong.
Inspector Rathore stepped closer to the writing.
"That's his handwriting," he whispered.
Aanya stared at him.
"You said he drowned."
"I saw him fall," Rathore replied sharply. "I pulled him out of the water myself."
Her pulse quickened.
"Then how is this possible?"
The inspector didn't answer.
Because he didn't have one.
Suddenly, Aanya's thoughts connected.
"What if he didn't die?" she said.
Rathore looked at her immediately.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?" she pushed back. "Was there a postmortem? A proper investigation? Or did your powerful friends make sure the case closed quickly?"
The words hit him.
Hard.
He didn't deny it.
"There was pressure," he admitted quietly. "The body was declared dead within hours. The funeral happened the next day."
"And you saw the body?" she asked carefully.
He hesitated.
That hesitation said everything.
"I saw him at the lake," he said. "Unconscious. Not breathing."
"That's not the same as dead."
Silence.
The storm outside seemed to listen.
Aanya's mind raced.
If Karan survived…
If someone helped him…
If he waited ten years…
Then this wasn't random revenge.
This was planned.
Careful.
Precise.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn't an unknown number.
It was a message.
No number displayed.
Just text.
"The lake never gave him back. Someone else did."
Aanya's heart pounded violently.
She showed the message to Rathore.
His face lost color.
"Someone else?" she whispered.
Rathore stepped back slowly.
"There was one more person at the lake," he said.
Aanya froze.
"You said there were six."
"Yes."
"Five witnesses. Karan. And me."
He swallowed.
"But there was someone watching from the other side of the lake."
The rain slowed slightly.
"Who?" she asked.
Rathore's voice dropped.
"Your father."
The world tilted.
"What?"
"He wasn't part of the argument," Rathore continued. "He arrived later. He saw everything. He helped carry Karan out."
Aanya's chest tightened.
"But in the official report… he claimed he wasn't there."
"Because he wasn't supposed to be," Rathore said quietly.
Aanya's thoughts spiraled.
If her father helped carry Karan out—
If there was confusion—
If the body was rushed—
Then what if…
The wrong body was identified?
Her breathing became uneven.
"Inspector," she whispered, "what if the person buried ten years ago… wasn't Karan?"
Thunder exploded overhead.
And at that exact moment—
The front door creaked open.
Slowly.
Both of them turned.
No wind.
No visible force.
Just the door… opening.
On the doorstep—
A soaked envelope.
Aanya moved toward it carefully.
Her name was written on the front.
Inside was a single photograph.
Taken last night.
Her father.
Standing near Lake Pichola.
Not alone.
Behind him—
A man in a dark hood.
Face hidden.
But beneath the photo—
Four words were written:
"He remembers everything."
Aanya's hands began to shake.
Because if Karan was alive—
Then this wasn't revenge anymore.
It was something else.
Something bigger.
And her father—
Was still alive.