The house was quiet that afternoon.

Somewhere in the kitchen, oil crackled softly in a pan. A ceiling fan turned lazily overhead, struggling against the humid Kerala air, while the faint sound of a Malayalam television serial drifted in from the next room.

Shabana sat near the living-room window, sorting freshly dried clothes into neat little piles.

She was wearing a simple cotton salwar, her hair loosely tied behind her head. A thin gold chain rested around her neck, and a pair of small earrings caught the afternoon light whenever she moved.

A sudden knock against the half-open front door pulled her attention away. Before Shabana could get up, the door opened.

"Shabana!"

A familiar voice.

She smiled almost instinctively.

"Sameera, you could at least knock properly."

Sameera Basheer stepped inside carrying a steel container in one hand and a small cloth bag in the other.

"I did knock."

"Lightly," Shabana pointed out quick.

Sameera ignored her and walked straight toward the kitchen.

"Amma ne biryani bheji hai."

("Amma sent biryani.")

Shabana followed her, laughing softly.

Sameera placed the container on the kitchen counter and opened it. The smell immediately filled the room.

"Chicken?" Shabana asked, peeping into the steel container.

"Zahir hai. Tumhare liye hi toh laayi hoon."

("Obviously. I brought it for you.")

Shabana smiled. "Tum jaanti ho na, main itna nahi khaati."

("You know I don't eat this much.")

Sameera gave her a look.

"Har dafa yahi kehti ho. Phir aadha dabba khud khatam karti ho."

("You say that every time. And then you finish half the container yourself.")

Sameera had lived two houses away from the Rahmans for almost seven years. Their families had long since stopped behaving like neighbours.

They borrowed sugar from each other, sent food across the compound wall, shared festival preparations, spent evenings sipping tea together and occasionally knew things about each other's households that even family members didn't.

"Azeem ghar par nahi hai?" Sameera asked, facing towards Shabana.

("Azeem isn't home?")

"Nahi. Dukaan gaya hai."

("No. He went to the shop.")

"Aur Nida?"

("And Nida?")

"College gayi hai."

("She's gone to college.")

Sameera sighed and leaned onto the kitchen platform. "Tumhaara sahi hai, ghar mein shaanti bani rehti hai poore dinn."

("Your situation seems good. At least, the house stays peaceful all day.")

Shabana smiled faintly as she placed the cups on the tray.

"Shaanti? Nida ghar par hoti hai toh poora ghar uski awaaz se goonjta rehta hai."

("Peace? When Nida is home, the entire house echoes with her voice.")

Sameera laughed and began helping Shabana in arranging space for the tray.

There was something comforting about this familiarity. Sameera had been around for years - long enough to enter the house without knocking, long enough to know where the tea leaves were kept, and long enough to notice when something was wrong without being told.

Sameera took a sip of tea and studied Shabana over the rim of the cup.

"Tum thaki hui lag rahi ho."

("You look tired.")

Shabana immediately looked away and muttered, "Bas thodi si."

("Just a little.")

"Raat ko phir se neend nahi aayi?"

("Couldn't sleep again last night?")

Shabana paused.

"Pata nahi. Aankhein band karti hoon toh neend aati hi nahi."

("I don't know. Whenever I close my eyes, I just can't fall asleep.")

"Kuch soch rahi thi?"

("Were you thinking about something?")

Shabana gave her a small smile and said, "Tum bhi na... har baat mein sawaal dhoond leti ho."

("You really do... you find a question in everything.")

"Padosan hoon. Itna toh haq banta hai."

("I'm your neighbour. I have that much right.")

The kitchen remained filled with the scent of cardamom and biryani, the faint hum of the ceiling fan, and the ordinary sounds of a house that knew nothing about the secrets buried inside it.

Meanwhile, several miles away, at the waiting area of Bhubaneshwar airport, Padmanabha Mahapatra was constantly on the phone call, almost about to yell at the person on the other side.

It was high time Kerala had been calling them.

Alpana was seen in various places rather than just that one market, which eventually created a huge matter of concern for the Mahapatras.

"We'll be reaching tonight. Make sure each one of our men is present for tomorrow's meeting," Padmanabha commanded to the person on call with a tone more stricter than usual.

Everything went on perfectly as planned since a decade. But now, situations have changed so drastically that it needs Padmanabha, himself, to deal with it.

"Take it easy, please," Rashmita pleaded, her voice devoid of usual bitterness. "We've have been doing this for long. We'll succeed this time, too."

He turned sharply, facing his wife straight. "What if we don't?"

Rashmita stood stunned for a moment. It seemed like even she didn't have any possible answer to that dangerous question.

Though Rashmita was unaware of all his plans, she definitely knew they were soon going to destroy every person around him.

By late evening, the city had begun settling into darkness. The streets outside Nishedh's office were still alive, but his cabin remained unusually quiet.

A single desk lamp illuminated the room. While three chairs surrounded the large wooden table and three people sitting on them.

Abhijeet, Nishedh and Amisha.

A laptop remained open in front of Nishedh, its screen displaying a map of Kerala with several locations marked.

Amisha sat beside him, her arms folded, her eyes fixed on the screen. Abhijeet stood on the other side of the table.

This was the meeting where they had to take all important decisions, on which their plans and future depended on.

"Amisha is proposing to rent a house in that locality, so that she can keep a good eye on Alpana and her routines," Nishedh spoke, breaking the silence.

Abhijeet breathed and exhaled a sharp breath.

"You have planned to disguise as a Muslim woman? Despite knowing it can cause you severe danger?" he asked, looking at Amisha.

"There's no other way, Abhijeet. Undoubtedly, I trust our men's ability to give us information, but while I was spying in Pakistan for Indian intelligence, we've always been taught - if you have a strong lead against your enemy and you believe it can help you succeed your mission, simply go for it."

"What exactly have you planned then?" Nishedh asked her, leaning forward with a serious expression.

Amisha stood up and walked slowly up to the balcony. She looked at the beaming lights of the city outside for a moment and turned back, facing both the men.

"One of my good colleagues, Mr. Tanishq Bajwa, is currently posted somewhere in the South. He's working with the Army on a few field assignments, but he still owes me a favour."

"A favour?" Nishedh repeated.

"We were part of the same operation in West Bengal for a while. Different covers, different responsibilities, but the same objective." Her expression grew distant for a moment, as though an old memory had surfaced. "He knows how to disappear into a crowd. More importantly, he knows how to become someone people don't think twice about."

Nishedh leaned forward. "And you want him here in this mission?"

"I want him beside me."

Abhijeet's expression tightened slightly. "As what?"

Amisha turned toward them. "My husband."

Nishedh blinked. Abhijeet stared at her for a second before letting out a quiet breath.

"Are you serious?" Nishedh asked, quietly.

"Two hundred percent serious."

She walked back toward the table and picked up a folder lying beside her laptop.

"We won't approach Alpana directly. That would be reckless. If she's been living under different identity for years, suddenly having strangers asking personal questions about her would only make her suspicious. We need proximity first. Familiarity. And trust. That'll make things easier for me to some extent."

Nishedh glanced at the photographs spread across the table.

"So you two plan to move into the same locality."

Amisha continued, "Yes. And become an ordinary resident as a couple. It has to be such ordinary that there shall be no questions or doubts about our existence."

"And Tanishq agrees to this?"

"I haven't asked him yet."

Nishedh looked at her incredulously, "You're planning all this before even asking your partner?"

"He'll definitely agree. I've known him for years."

"What happens after you establish contact?" Abhijeet asked.

"We'll simply observe. Where she goes. Who she meets. Whether she leaves the locality alone. Who controls the finances. Whether anyone from her family or any outsider monitors her movements."

"What if she doesn't remember that she was... Alpana? And still... is?"

Silence filled the room for several seconds. Amisha and Nishedh knew very well how Abhijeet must have been feeling about this whole situation, and the only thing they could do, is to give him hope.

"If she's spent ten years believing she's someone else, suddenly telling her she's Alpana could destroy her sense of reality. We need evidence first. We need to understand what happened to her."

Abhijeet remained quiet, listening to Amisha.

She continued, "Alpana seems to have no signs of physical abuse or restrictions, Abhijeet. This detail is unusual for me. I've rarely come across something like this. Hence, I don't want to rush or take an uncalculated risk. I cannot deny that she might have never been exploited physically. She definitely might have. Let's hope for the best and do our work."

Abhijeet closed his eyes not longer than a second or two. It was evident that more than Amisha, Abhijeet is getting affected mentally due to this mission.

"I'll contact Tanishq tonight."

"Please," Abhijeet said quietly, "Be careful."

A faint smile appeared on Amisha's lips.

"I always am."

Before Abhijeet could turn to the door to leave, Amisha called him out.

"Abhijeet, I want every single document, official or unofficial, that has either Alpana's name or photo on it."

Abhijeet's first instinct was to hesitate and question her. But instead, he took a second and replied, "I already have few from the college. Rest will be handed over to you by the end of this week."

Amisha smiled faintly and Abhijeet gave Nishedh a brief nod before leaving the cabin and the door clicked shut behind him.

Nishedh slowly leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead.

"Amisha," he called. "You really intend to do this?"

"Of course. For Alpana."

"I understand that. But... you never what kind of people you'll have to deal with."

Amisha didn't answer immediately. She walked back toward the balcony and rested her hands against the railing.

"For someone who worked as a spy for years in Pakistan, we never fear people. We fear... from the mindsets of these people."

Nishedh stood up from his chair and reached for her hand.

"I just want you to come back safely. Always remember, your Nishedh is right here, waiting for you."

"I'll miss you," she looked down at their mingled hands and whispered, for once, letting her guards down.

And somewhere beyond the glass windows, the city continued moving - completely unaware that, inside one quiet cabin, a plan had just been set into motion that could finally bring a woman named Alpana back to the people who had spent ten years believing they had lost her.

A few months later,

"Let's not leave our bags here."

"But why not?"

"I just don't feel like!"

"Oh, god," she sighed. "Your 'feels' are dominating you with each passing day."

Both girls hurried to the canteen as they were called by Taarini and the boys about thirteen minutes ago.

Last night Lavanya had announced to the girls that she would confess to Karthik soon. At this point, she didn't care any more if he already has someone or is looking into someone specific.

The guilt of not confessing earlier was simply eating her up.

By the time Lavanya and Ipsita reached their table, everyone else had already settled in.

Taarini was sitting beside Karthik, while Revant had occupied the chair opposite her.

Hridayansh sat at the end of the table, scrolling through his phone with an expression that suggested he was only pretending to be interested in whatever was on the screen.

The moment Lavanya arrived, Revant looked up. "There they are."

The girls greeted each other, exchanging their typical girly smiles and vibes.

Ipsita slipped into the empty chair beside Taarini while Lavanya sat opposite Karthik.

Before Karthik could say something controversial to her and lead them to a playful banter, Lavanya briefly looked at him and quickly drifted her eyes off him.

Of course, this gesture of hers did go unnoticed by the boys, but not the girls.

"She's nervous," Taarini whispered, leaning onto Ipsita.

"I can see that."

"I thought she was going to confess today."

"She probably will, soon."

"So, Lavanya," Revant called out, clearing his throat. "Why are you staring at Karthik?"

Lavanya nearly choked on her drink.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed in her defensiveness. "When did that happen!?"

"I just saw that," Revant answered, casually eating his sandwich and unaware of the consequences he was going to face by her.

"You're so dead," Lavanya muttered.

Everyone laughed. Except the girls, who did laugh. Nervously. As they were the only ones who knew everything.

For a few minutes, the conversation moved naturally from college assignments to an upcoming event and ranting about how they'll soon officially become seniors in a month or two.

Just as they were about to talk about something else, Hridayansh's phone vibrated.

He glanced down at the screen only to see 'Pritam Sahu' displayed on the caller ID.

"I need to take this," he said, before leaving the table and walking a few steps to the corner.

He received the call, but didn't answer immediately.

"Hello, Hridayansh?" Mr. Sahu spoke first from the other side.

"Yes, Mr. Sahu," he answered.

"Can you come to the library when you're free? There's something important for you. And yeah, that female friend of yours, I wanted to ask if she's related to Alpana in any possible way?"

Hridayansh paused for a second. He instinctively looked back at the table. At Ipsita.

Though he trusted Sahu a lot, he cannot let Ipsita get involved with Sahu and his investigations. Especially when Hridayansh himself stays cautiously with him.

"I'll come tomorrow," he replied, his eyes still on Ipsita. "In the evening. And no, my friend is not related to Ms. Alpana in any way."

"Suspicious. Both are Mahapatras. And... from the same college. Yet, they are not related?"

Hridayansh couldn't control his rage, but had to stay calm for the sake of Ipsita's safety.

"I'm sure about it, sir. They don't even know each other."

After muttering a goodbye, he slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Everything okay?" Ipsita asked quietly, appearing behind him, but keeping her distance.

Hridayansh looked at her. For a moment, he considered saying no. And telling her everything he knows.

Instead, he nodded, "Yeah."

But his expression said otherwise.

"They were done," Ipsita said, looking towards their friends ready to get up and leave from the canteen. "So we're heading back..."

"Oh, right."

Before Ipsita could turn to leave and follow her friends, Hridayansh coughed a bit hard, loud enough to make her hear and stop.

"Can you come with me for a minute, please?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "Where?"

"Just outside."

The question in her eyes was immediate. Yet, she nodded in approval. She turned back to her friends and gestured that she'll be right back in some time.

The moment they stepped outside the canteen, the noise softened behind them.

Hridayansh stopped near the corridor window. His expression had changed completely. And it didn't go unnoticed by Ipsita.

"What happened?" she asked first.

"Mr. Sahu called me. He wants me to come to the library."

"Why?"

"He didn't say the reason, yet. But..."

"But...?" Ipsita repeated, raising her brows.

Hridayansh took a breath before continuing. "I want you to... stay safe."

Ipsita's face seemed confused at first. But then she let out a small laugh. "Okay, but what's the reason? Am I in danger- "

"Please, don't," Hridayansh interrupted before she could complete, and subtly placed two fingers on her lips, indicating her not to continue further.

The moment barely lasted for a second.

His expression wasn't playful. There was no teasing smile in his eyes. Only concern.

Meanwhile Ipsita's heart gave an embarrassingly small flutter. All because of the sudden contact of his fingers on her lips and the distance that barely existed between them.

Hridayansh withdrew his hand immediately.

"Don't joke about things like that," he said more quietly.

Ipsita's fluttering heart rested for a moment. She could slowly see the worry on his face. And suddenly, the butterflies in her stomach felt less exciting.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"I don't know yet."

Ipsita looked down for a moment. The corridor around them continued as usual - students passing by, distant voices, footsteps echoing against the floor. Yet somehow, everything felt quieter.

She looked back at him.

"Is this about Alpana di?"

Hridayansh didn't answer immediately.

That was answer enough.

Ipsita's fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll be careful."

Hridayansh smiled faintly. There was a brief silence afterward.

Then Ipsita tried to lighten the atmosphere with a faint smile.

"You know, you sound very bossy sometimes."

"I know."

"And slightly overprotective."

"I know that too," he said, scratching the back of his head shyly.

Both smiled. But this time, neither of them laughed. Because beneath the warmth of that small exchange, both of them could feel it that something was moving.

Word count- 2.9k

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