The rusted cuff lay between them, a relic of Veer's suffering, a silent warning from the shadows. Satya's grip on the sketchbook tightened.
"This isn't just a coincidence," Saanvi said, her voice hushed. "Whoever left this knew we'd find it. They know we're looking."
Professor Raghav exhaled sharply. "And they're watching."
The weight of his words settled heavily in the air.
Virendra scanned the corridor, his jaw tense. "We need to leave. Now."
Satya hesitated. Something about the cuff felt eerily familiar—not just from the sketch. He knelt beside it, running his fingers over the corroded metal. A faint engraving peeked through the rust.
V…
His breath hitched. There was more beneath the grime.
"We don't have time for this," Virendra urged.
Satya ignored him, using his sleeve to rub away the dirt. As the metal cleared, a full inscription emerged.
V. Meghawal—Prisoner No. 17.
Satya's world tilted.
"Veer was officially imprisoned," Professor Raghav murmured, adjusting his glasses. "They didn't just execute him in secret… they recorded him as a prisoner."
Saanvi's expression darkened. "Which means there are records."
Virendra cursed under his breath. "If there were, they're long gone. Destroyed. If someone's still trying to keep this buried, do you really think they left evidence behind?"
Satya shook his head. "No. Not official records." His voice was quiet but firm. "But there's something else. Somewhere."
His fingers traced the engraved name again. V. Meghawal.
They needed to go where prisoners' names were kept.
"The old archives," Professor Raghav said, catching on. "If this was recorded, there's a chance something survived."
Saanvi nodded. "Then that's our next stop."
Virendra looked unconvinced. "And if whoever's been following us decides we're getting too close?"
Satya met his gaze, unwavering.
"They already have."
The journey to the archives was a quiet one. The road was deserted, the night thick with silence. A storm was brewing—heavy clouds stretched across the sky, shrouding the moon in darkness.
Saanvi sat beside Satya, absently tracing patterns on her sleeve. Her mind was elsewhere.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
She hesitated before answering. "I keep thinking about what we'll find."
Satya nodded. He understood. The truth had been hidden for a reason. And if the past was anything like the present…
Veer Meghawal's death had been no accident.
"We'll face it together," he assured her.
Saanvi offered a small, fleeting smile. "I know."
As the car neared the archives, a strange sensation settled over Satya—like stepping into something irreversible.
The truth was waiting.
But so was the danger.