The room was silent except for the sound of the ceiling fan.
Ananya lay on her bed, staring at the dark ceiling. Sleep refused to come.
Her phone suddenly vibrated.
She picked it up without interest.
Unknown Number
I won't survive tonight. If this message reaches you, don't ignore it.
Ananya's eyebrows tightened.
Spam, she thought.
Some sick joke.
She locked the screen and placed the phone beside her.
The vibration returned almost immediately.
Your father didn't die by accident. And my life is ending because of that truth.
Her heart skipped.
Her fingers froze around the phone.
Her father's death had been ruled an accident eleven years ago.
A closed case.
A painful memory no one liked to reopen.
She sat up slowly.
Ananya:
Who are you?
Three dots appeared… then vanished.
Another message came instead.
Tomorrow morning. 7 a.m. Old bus stand. Tea shop near the rusted shelter. Come alone if you want answers.
The screen went blank.
Ananya stared at it for a long time.
Something inside her told her—this was not a prank.
She lived alone in a rented room in Kolkata.
A small space with unfinished dreams and quiet nights.
During the day, she worked as a junior software tester.
At night, memories became louder.
Her father had been honest—too honest.
A government officer who believed rules mattered.
After his death, her mother never allowed questions.
"Some doors should remain closed," her mother always said.
But tonight, one door had opened on its own.
At 6:20 a.m., Ananya stood near the mirror.
Fear sat heavy in her chest.
Meeting a stranger at an empty bus stand was not logical.
It was dangerous.
Yet she picked up her bag and walked out.
Because unanswered questions were worse than fear.
The old bus stand looked forgotten by time.
Paint peeled from walls.
Benches were broken.
A single tea shop stood open.
6:58 a.m.
Ananya stood near the rusted shelter, scanning the area.
"Ananya?"
She turned.
A man stood a few steps away.
Young, nervous, eyes constantly moving.
"I'm Rohan," he said quietly.
"I messaged you."
Her voice shook.
"You mentioned my father."
Rohan swallowed.
"Yes," he said. "And that's why I don't have much time left."
The tea shop was empty.
Rohan pulled out a pen drive from his jacket.
"Everything is inside this," he said.
"Documents. Audio. Video."
Ananya stared at it.
"My father's death wasn't an accident," he continued.
"It was planned."
Her head spun.
"That's not possible," she said.
"He had no enemies."
Rohan let out a bitter smile.
"He exposed powerful people," he replied.
"That makes enemies automatically."
Rohan explained how the construction company he worked for used substandard materials and fake approvals.
Your father found out, Rohan said.
He was about to submit evidence.
"The night before submission, the accident happened."
Ananya felt tears sting her eyes.
"Why tell me now?" she asked.
"Because they're watching me," Rohan said.
"And I won't escape twice."
A black car slowed down near the road.
Rohan stiffened.
"They're here."
He quickly placed the pen drive into Ananya's palm.
"If anything happens to me," he said urgently,
"don't stay silent. Use this."
Before she could react, Rohan ran.
The car moved.
A sharp sound cut through the air.
Rohan collapsed on the road.
Police sirens followed.
People gathered.
The same word passed from mouth to mouth.
"Accident."
Ananya stood still, the pen drive burning in her hand.
She understood one thing clearly.
Truth was dangerous.
That night, she locked herself inside her room.
She inserted the pen drive into her laptop.
A folder opened.
Evidence_Inspector_A.doc
The first video showed her father.
"If you're watching this," he said calmly,
"then the truth survived, even if I didn't."
Ananya covered her mouth, tears falling freely.
The final file was a note.
You were never meant to stay quiet.
If you're reading this, fight.
She closed the laptop.
Fear was still there.
But courage stood taller.
She whispered—
"This isn't just his story anymore.
It's mine."
Chapter 1 End
To be continued…