The car cut through the silent night, the only sound the hum of the engine and the distant cry of a jackal from the dense woods they were leaving behind. Aradhya clutched the small wooden box to her chest, Vikram’s journal tucked beneath her arm. The silver earring felt cold against her palm, a stark reminder of the danger her father was in. The image of the Sunderban photograph, of her mother vibrant and alive beside a smiling Vikram, burned in her mind. It was more than a photograph; it was a promise, a secret, a lead.

Avni drove with steady hands, her eyes scanning the road and the rearview mirror. The tension in the car was palpable, a silent understanding passing between the woman who had loved Vikram under obligation, and the girl who was just discovering him through fragments of a hidden life.