Chapter LXVII
The tension in the room was thick — the kind that hangs in the air before a storm. I sat across from Hannah, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap as Anshuman and Anamika flanked me. We'd spent hours perfecting the plan, running through every detail again and again — not just for our sake, but for hers. She needed to understand what she was stepping into. Not just a role… but a battlefield.
"This won't be easy, Hannah," I said softly, my voice firm but gentle. "But you're the only one who can do this right now. You'll be watched every second, protected... but the risk is real."
Her eyes, wide and uncertain, met mine. For a second, I saw the young girl she used to be — innocent, kind, too gentle for this cruel world. But then… something shifted. She straightened her shoulders, drew in a shaky breath, and nodded.
"I want to do it," she said quietly. "If it helps stop them… I want to help."
I wasn't sure whether to feel pride or fear. But time was running out, and this was the only door left to kick open.
We moved quickly. I created a fake profile for her on a notorious black-market site known only by the initials "Awk" — a vile place where digital predators lurked like wolves behind screens. Everything had to look authentic. Tempting. Vulnerable. It sickened me to even think of painting Hannah in that light — but that's exactly what they hunted. And that's exactly what we needed to give them.
I asked Hannah to pose for the photos — not crude, not indecent — but provocative enough to trigger attention. She hesitated at first, her cheeks flushed with shame, her body stiff as I positioned the camera.
"It's okay," I whispered, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "You're not doing this for them. You're doing this for us. For the girls who never came back."
She closed her eyes for a moment, swallowed the weight of it all, then nodded. We captured the images, carefully editing them to strip away all identifying details. Then, with my heart pounding, I uploaded them to the Awk profile.
Even after I'd encrypted every file, my hands trembled slightly. The internet never forgets. One wrong move and her life could be destroyed forever.
So I turned to the one person I trusted for digital surveillance — Ritu.
"Keep your eyes everywhere," I told her. "Every server, every suspicious click, every message… if someone so much as looks at this account the wrong way, I want to know."
She gave a firm nod, her fingers already flying across the keyboard. "I'll watch the web like a hawk."
Next came the question of Hannah's safety. I couldn't leave her unguarded for a second. The men we were baiting weren't just hackers — they were traffickers, kidnappers, killers.
I made the call — Anshuman and Anamika would remain by her side 24/7. They would shadow her like ghosts, trained, alert, and ready.
But despite all that… I couldn't let her go just yet.
That evening, I personally drove her to the hospital. She clutched her bag tightly in the passenger seat, her gaze flickering between the road and her phone screen. I could tell she was scared — the kind of fear you don't speak about out loud. But she didn't say a word. Just sat there, breathing through it like a soldier headed to war.
When we reached, I walked her through the main doors — unable to resist giving her that one final moment of reassurance. That unspoken promise: I'm still here. You're not alone.
And then… I saw him.
Jatin.
He stood near the nurse's desk, casually flipping through a file — Mon's fiancé. Hannah's colleague. The man who might be pulled into this storm without even realizing it.
He looked up. Our eyes met.
I masked my surprise and offered a polite, "Hello." He returned it with a small, warm smile — oblivious, or maybe just pretending to be.
I didn't linger. I gave Hannah a small squeeze on her shoulder and walked away, my heart thudding painfully against my chest.
Outside, Anshuman and Anamika were already in position. They nodded silently as I passed them. Hannah was in their hands now.
And so it began.
The bait was set. The digital waters had been stirred. Somewhere, on the other side of the screen, monsters had started circling. Watching. Lurking.
We were ready.
Or at least, we had to be.
Because there was no turning back.
As I returned to the police station, my phone buzzed. It was Mon.
"Sam… please, can you come to my flat right now? There's a big problem," she said, her voice shaky—barely holding itself together.
A cold knot formed in my stomach. Without a second thought, I turned around and drove straight to her place. Every second felt heavier than the last.
When I arrived, I knocked on her door, but there was no response. I knocked again—firmer this time.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and before I could say a word, Mon grabbed me by my collar and dragged me inside, her eyes blazing with anger and pain.
She pulled me into her bedroom, slammed the door behind us, and turned to face me.
"Sam, what the hell is this?" she shouted, her voice cracking. "Why did you involve Hannah in all of this? Why do you only get protective for some people?"
I stood there, stunned. Her words cut deep.
"I… Mon, it's not what you think," I tried to explain. "We had no other option. Hannah is the only one we can protect properly. That's why I included her."
Mon's chest rose and fell as she tried to keep herself from breaking down completely.
"Sam, she doesn't know the kind of danger she's in. She's a doctor—she's supposed to save lives, not walk into fire. She trusts people blindly. Do you even realize what kind of hell you might be throwing her into?"
"I know," I said softly, guilt thick in my voice. "I swear to you, Mon—I won't let anything happen to her."
Mon scoffed. "Oh, great. You said it, so everything will magically be okay?"
She turned and started to walk away. I reached out and grabbed her wrist gently.
"Mon… if there's still any space left in your heart for me—please… forgive me."
She yanked her hand away. "Forgive you? For what?"
"For not trusting you," I whispered.
She stood still for a moment, then turned around, her voice colder than I had ever heard before.
"Sam, it's too late now. You're not someone I can forgive anymore. We're not even friends."
Her words felt like someone had punched a hole right through my chest.
I tried to hold back the tears, but they burned in my eyes. "Mon, please… if you don't forgive me, I'll die slowly inside every single day. I'm already suffocating in my guilt."
Mon stepped closer. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes—an old pain that had never really gone away. She leaned in, resting her forehead against mine, her breath trembling as she spoke.
"You remember that rainy day? The day you left?" she whispered. "You walked away… but I stayed there, Sam. I stayed in that storm, waiting for you."
My heart shattered.
"Since that day, I don't even know what it means to live. I've laughed, I've smiled, but none of it reached my heart. I haven't felt truly alive since then."
She pulled away, her voice now almost numb.
"Ashwin was bailed out. He told my family everything… and then my father gave me an ultimatum: if I wanted to continue my education, I had to marry Jatin."
I froze.
"Jatin… he's a good man. A doctor. That's how I met Hannah—through him. She became my friend when I had no one else left." Her voice wavered. "When my engagement was happening, I kept looking at the door… hoping you'd come. You didn't."
Tears were now streaming down both our faces.
She looked at me, broken and bitter.
"And now? Now you come back, asking for forgiveness. But it means nothing, Sam. You've already taken the part of me that could love again. Because of you, I don't think I'll ever be able to love anyone."
I tried to hold her, desperate for just one moment of closeness—one sign that she still cared. But Mon pushed me away.
"You've lost that right too," she said coldly, and turned her back to me.
And just like that… I stood there, watching her walk away, realizing that sometimes love doesn't end with a scream—it ends in silence, in a room filled with things left unsaid.
To be continue....