Access.
That word refused to leave his mind.
Not strength.
Not intelligence.
Access.
Who could move freely without suspicion?
Who could stay close to everyone?
Who could watch him constantly—
Without him noticing?
The answer kept circling back to the same place.
And Sarthak hated it.
Evening.
The campus was quieter now.
Golden sunlight stretched across the empty corridors.
Sarthak stood alone near the vending machines, staring at his phone.
Three names remained in his mind.
Riya.
Ananya.
Vansh.
But only one of them—
Had been there from the beginning.
Only one person—
Knew him before everything broke.
Only one person—
Could stay near him without raising suspicion.
"…You look like you are planning a murder."
A familiar voice.
Vansh.
Walking toward him casually, hands in pockets.
Same relaxed expression.
Same lazy smile.
Normal.
Too normal.
Sarthak watched him carefully.
Every movement.
Every expression.
Searching for cracks.
"…Can we talk?" Sarthak asked quietly.
Vansh blinked.
"…That sounds serious."
"It is."
The smile faded slightly.
"…Okay."
Rooftop
The wind felt colder than usual.
Vansh leaned against the railing.
"So… what is this about?"
Silence.
Sarthak stood a few steps away.
Not too close.
Not anymore.
"…Where were you the day she fell?"
The question hit instantly.
Vansh frowned.
"…What?"
"That day."
Sarthak's voice remained calm.
Too calm.
"…Where were you?"
Vansh stared at him for a moment.
Then laughed lightly.
"You brought me here for that?"
No answer.
The silence itself became heavy.
And slowly—
The amusement disappeared from Vansh's face.
"…You are serious."
"Yes."
A pause.
"…Why?"
Sarthak finally looked directly into his eyes.
"…Because I think you are hiding something."
Silence.
The wind moved softly between them.
Vansh looked away briefly.
Then sighed.
"…I knew this would happen eventually."
That sentence—
Immediately sharpened Sarthak's attention.
"…What do you mean?"
Vansh rubbed the back of his neck.
"…You started looking at everyone like suspects."
A weak smile.
"…Guess my turn came too."
"You did not answer the question."
Silence again.
Then—
Finally—
"…I was there."
Everything stopped.
Sarthak's eyes widened slightly.
"…What?"
"I followed you that day," Vansh admitted quietly.
"You were acting weird… so I followed."
Heartbeat.
Slow.
Heavy.
"…Why did you never tell me?"
"Because I got scared!"
The sudden outburst echoed across the rooftop.
Vansh clenched his fists.
"…You think you were the only one destroyed by that day?!"
Silence.
For the first time—
His voice carried anger.
Real anger.
"I saw everything after she fell," he continued.
"I saw people blaming you."
A pause.
"And I did nothing."
The words sounded almost identical to Mahi's confession.
Guilt.
Everyone carried guilt.
But guilt—
Did not mean innocence.
"…Did you see anyone else?" Sarthak asked quietly.
Vansh hesitated.
That hesitation—
Was enough.
"…You did."
"No…"
"Vansh."
"I am not sure."
"Tell me."
Silence.
Then—
Very slowly—
Vansh spoke.
"…I saw someone leaving."
Sarthak's heartbeat stopped for a second.
"…Who?"
"…I could not see clearly."
Frustration rose instantly.
"But I remember…"
A pause.
"…they were wearing our college hoodie."
Silence.
That narrowed nothing.
Everyone wore those hoodies.
Unless—
"…Wait," Sarthak muttered.
His mind connected something suddenly.
The staircase.
The terrace.
The old building.
Someone moving freely.
Someone blending in easily.
Someone—
Always nearby.
"…Did you tell anyone this?" Sarthak asked.
Vansh shook his head immediately.
"No."
"…Why?"
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"Because I was scared you would break."
Silence.
"…And maybe," Vansh added quietly,
"…I was scared you would stop being my friend."
That hit harder than expected.
Because for the first time—
Sarthak realized something.
Everyone around him—
Was afraid of losing him.
Even after everything.
A vibration.
Both of them froze.
Sarthak's phone.
Unknown Number.
Again.
Slowly—
He opened it.
"Beautiful conversation."
The blood in his veins went cold.
"But you still missed the most important detail."
Sarthak's eyes darkened.
"…What detail?" he typed instantly.
Typing…
Stopped.
Typing again…
Then—
"Ask yourself this…"
A pause.
"Who benefits the most from keeping you alive?"
Silence.
And suddenly—
Everything changed.
Because that question—
Pointed somewhere terrifying.
Not toward the past.
But toward the present.
Toward someone—
Who needed Sarthak involved.
Someone—
Keeping him in the game intentionally.
"…No way," Sarthak whispered.
Because for the first time—
He realized something horrifying.
What if the sender…
Did not hate him?
What if—
They needed him?
To be continued…