The Office
The building was quiet.
It was 9:00 PM. The secretaries were gone. The cleaners were gone. The lights were dimmed.
Esha walked through the hallway. Her heels clicked on the marble. Click. Click. Click. It echoed. It sounded lonely.
She was wearing her coat. She kept it buttoned. She felt cold. She was always cold now.
She walked to the glass office.
Zaviyar was there.
He was sitting at his desk. He was not looking at a computer. He was looking at paper. Stacks of paper. Blueprints. Maps.
He had his sleeves rolled up. His tie was gone. His hair was messy. He ran his hand through it. He looked like he had been pulling it out.
He heard her steps.
He looked up.
His eyes were dark. There were purple circles under them. He looked like a ghost.
"You came back," he said. His voice was scratchy.
"I had work," Esha lied. "I forgot a file."
"Liar," Zaviyar said.
He stood up. He walked to the door. He opened it.
"Come in," he said.
Esha walked in. The room smelled like coffee and stale air.
"Where were you?" Zaviyar asked. He leaned against the doorframe. He crossed his arms.
"Lunch," Esha said.
"Lunch takes one hour," Zaviyar said. "You were gone for six."
"It was a long lunch."
Zaviyar looked at her. He looked at her eyes. He was looking for the truth.
"Did you see him?" Zaviyar asked.
Esha froze. Her heart skipped.
"See who?"
"Arjun," Zaviyar said. "I know he called your father. I check the logs."
Esha felt cold. He knew. He always knew.
"Yes," Esha said. "I saw him."
"And?"
"And he is scared," Esha said. "He thinks I am the variable. He thinks I am dangerous."
Zaviyar smiled. It was a slow smile. A cruel smile.
"Good," he said. "Fear makes people stupid. Did he try to buy you?"
"He tried to charm me," Esha said. "He told me not to be your weapon."
Zaviyar laughed. It was a dry sound.
"He is predictable," Zaviyar said. "He thinks everyone has a price. He thinks everyone wants to be 'good'."
Zaviyar walked to his desk. He picked up a marker. Red.
He walked to the glass wall.
He drew a line. A timeline.
"Two weeks," he said. "Launch day."
He drew a circle.
"9:00 AM," he said. "The crash."
He looked at Esha.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Esha looked at the red circle. It looked like a target. It looked like a bullet hole.
"The code is ready," she said.
"I didn't ask about the code," Zaviyar said. "I asked about you. Are you ready to pull the trigger?"
Esha looked at him.
"Why do you doubt me?" she asked.
"Because you hesitated," Zaviyar said. "Yesterday. In the elevator. You hesitated."
He walked closer to her. He stood right in front of her.
"You like him," Zaviyar said. "He is nice. He is polite. He brings tea."
Esha looked at his chest. She couldn't look at his face.
"He is my cousin," she thought. "He is my blood."
"He is the enemy," she said out loud.
"Prove it," Zaviyar said.
"How?"
"Give me his phone," Zaviyar said.
Esha blinked. "What?"
"You met him," Zaviyar said. "You have his number now. He texted you."
Esha went cold. How did he know?
"He texted the Anya phone," Esha lied quickly. "Just business."
"Show me," Zaviyar said. He held out his hand.
Esha stared at his hand. It was large. Palm open. Waiting.
If she gave him the phone, he would see the text. The text about the bicycle. The text to her old number.
He would know.
She had to think fast.
"I deleted it," she said.
Zaviyar's hand didn't move.
"Why?"
"Because it was unprofessional," Esha said. "He was whining. I didn't want to see it."
Zaviyar watched her. He was reading her face. He was looking for the twitch.
Then, he dropped his hand.
"Okay," he said.
He turned around. He walked back to the glass wall.
"Come here," he said.
Esha walked to the wall.
"Look," Zaviyar said. He pointed out the window.
Below them, London was shining. Lights. Cars. People. It looked like a circuit board.
"That building," Zaviyar pointed. A tall tower in the distance. The Roy Tower. "That is where they work. That is where they stole our future."
He put his hand on the glass. He pressed it flat.
"My grandfather died in a rental apartment," Zaviyar whispered. "He died waiting for the pension check. He died ashamed."
He looked at Esha. His eyes were wet. Not crying. Just shiny with hate.
"I promised him," Zaviyar said. "I promised I would take it back. All of it."
He looked at her.
"Don't go soft on me, Anya," he said. "I need you to be the knife. If the knife is dull, it hurts more."
Esha looked at the Roy Tower.
She thought of Arjun. She thought of the bicycle.
She thought of her father in the hospital bed.
She put her hand on the glass. Next to his.
"I am sharp," she said.
Zaviyar looked at her hand. Then he looked at her.
"Good," he said.
He leaned in.
He didn't kiss her. He just put his forehead against hers.
It was intimate. It was heavy.
"We are going to burn them," he whispered. "And then we will build something new from the ash."
Esha closed her eyes.
She felt his breath. She felt his heat.
She was burning already.
The Escape
"Go home," Zaviyar said. He pulled away. "Sleep. Tomorrow we start the war games."
Esha nodded. She stepped back.
"Goodnight," she said.
"Goodnight, Anya."
She walked out.
She walked to the elevator. She pressed the button.
Her legs were shaking.
She got in the elevator. The doors closed.
She leaned against the wall. She slid down. She sat on the floor.
She put her head in her hands.
He almost caught her. With the phone. It was too close.
She pulled the phone out of her bag. The Anya phone.
She looked at the text history.
There was nothing.
But the other phone... the Esha phone. It was in her pocket.
She took it out.
New Message.
From Arjun.
I know you are reading this, Esha. I know you are in London. Please. Let's talk. Before it's too late.
Esha stared at the screen.
It was already too late.
The code was set. The timer was running.
She put the phone away.
The elevator stopped. Ding.
She stood up. She fixed her coat.
She walked out into the lobby.
She was a ghost. She was a weapon. She was a liar.
And she was running out of time.