Adhiraj Rathod stood frozen, his face a mask of disbelief rapidly twisting into a grotesque contortion of rage and fear. The words – Gulmohar, ledger, Sunderbans delta, abandoned lighthouse – echoed in the silent study, each one a hammer blow to his carefully constructed empire of lies. He stared at Avni, then at the letter in her hand as if it were a venomous snake.

“Jhoot! Saara jhoot hai yeh!” he roared, his voice cracking. “Avantika mar chuki hai! Uski baaton ka kya matlab? What is all this nonsense? This is a dead woman’s delusion!” He lunged forward, not for the documents this time, but towards Avni, as if to snatch the letter from her.