Aftermath
They were executed a week later.
The news called it justice.
Sera watched without sound.
Two months passed before Rahul walked free.
He looked smaller outside prison—older, too—but when he saw her waiting across the road, he straightened. Almost proud.
"You didn't have to come," he said.
"I wanted to," Sera replied.
She thanked him. Formally. Carefully.
Rahul smiled—not happy, not relieved.
"I didn't do it for you," he said. "I did what a father should've done. For Nehra."
That was all.
They parted without shaking hands.
The Café
"Hey," Raghav said, sliding into the chair. "Coffee?"
She nodded. Her hands were steady.
"Nehra's awake," he added lightly. "Doctor called an hour ago. Thought we'd go after this."
Sera's lips curved, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Raghav stirred his cup. Hesitated.
"There's something I never asked," he said. "The bodyguard. The voicemail."
She looked at him then.
"You remember," she said, "when I asked you to arrange a meeting with retired criminals?"
Raghav went still.
"That's when I found Rahul. Arvind destroyed his life long before Nehra. Made him do things he could never forgive himself for."
She took a sip.
"So I didn't force him. I redirected him."
"And the voicemail?" Raghav asked quietly.
Sera leaned back.
"Fabricated. But truthful."
She met his eyes.
"Arvind had said those words before. I just... let them exist again. In the right moment."
Raghav swallowed.
"That's dangerous."
"Yes," she agreed. "But effective."
Outside, traffic moved on.
Inside, something felt finished.
Sera stood.
"Let's go see Nehra."
She didn't say it—but somewhere between the coffee cooling and the truth settling, Raghav realized:
The trial wasn't the end.
It was just the last thing she needed to close.
And whatever came next—
.
.
.
Sera Dutt was already walking toward it alone.