The Quite Before The Storm
The envelope slipped from Ira's trembling fingers. The photograph of Aanya—pale, hooked up to machines, unrecognizable in her vulnerability—dangled between them like a death sentence. Ira's pulse throbbed in her ears. She could feel the walls closing in again, but this time it was worse. It wasn't just about Aanya's disappearance anymore.
It was about something far more sinister.
Ira's eyes darted back to Ishita, who stood frozen, staring at the photo with the same horrified realization.
"That's not possible," Ira whispered, her voice barely audible. "Aanya—what are they doing to her?"
Ishita blinked, her usual composed demeanor faltering for the first time. She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned the photograph over again, as if the back could offer some clue—some explanation.
But there was nothing.
Ira exhaled slowly, forcing herself to think. "This can't be a coincidence. The photo… Aanya was part of the trials, but she shouldn't have been. She was never supposed to be a patient."
Ishita set the photo down on the desk. "It's worse than we thought. These trials—they weren't just for patients. They were… experimenting on staff too."
Ira swallowed hard, the weight of the words hitting her like a physical blow. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear it. "How do you know that?"
"Because I've seen her," Ishita said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "Aanya. I've seen her around here, in the past. She was part of a very select group. She wasn't just another doctor. She was—" Ishita paused, as though weighing her words carefully. "—she was a test subject, Ira. And it looks like she's still one."
Ira's mind raced, her breath quickening. "A test subject for what? What were they trying to do?"
Ishita shrugged, frustration crossing her face. "That's the question, isn't it?"
Ira gripped the edge of the desk, her fingers tightening around the smooth wood as if it could anchor her to reality. There were too many questions. Too many holes in the story that didn't add up.
"We need more," Ira said, steeling herself. "We need to find out what happened to her. What happened to all of them."
Ishita nodded. "We can't just walk into Malhotra's office again. They'll be watching. But we know enough. Whoever's behind this wants it buried. They're hiding something big. And we've seen just the tip of the iceberg."
Ira turned to leave, her mind already working, plotting their next move. But just before she reached the door, something stopped her. A sudden, sharp thought broke through the haze of panic.
"Wait—if Aanya was a part of the trials… and if she's still in the hospital, maybe she's not the only one." Ira's eyes widened as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "There could be other patients. Other doctors. People we don't even know about yet."
Ishita hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You think there are more?" she asked, her voice full of suspicion.
"I'm certain of it."
Without another word, Ira turned on her heel and walked out of the office. Her heart pounded as she passed the darkened hallways, the fluorescent lights casting long, eerie shadows. There was no time to lose. They were no longer investigating a missing colleague—they were uncovering a criminal network that could go deeper than they'd ever imagined.
The hospital had always been a place of healing—at least, that's what Ira had told herself when she first started here. But now, every face she passed seemed to hold a secret, every room a hidden truth. And Ira knew, deep down, that if she didn't find the answers soon, they would never come to light.
Ishita followed her, her voice low as they moved down the hall. "So what's our next step?"
"I'll find out where the trials were being conducted," Ira said, her eyes scanning their surroundings. "There's a research lab on the fifth floor. It's supposed to be restricted, but I know a way in. I'll go alone."
Ishita raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"Malhotra doesn't know you're involved yet. If we get caught now, it'll be over. You stay here. I'll get the information."
Ishita seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. "Don't do anything stupid."
Ira smiled grimly. "When have I ever?"
The fifth floor was even quieter than usual. The air felt colder, somehow, and the fluorescent lights hummed with an eerie intensity. Ira moved swiftly, her shoes barely making a sound against the sterile tile floor as she approached the back stairwell.
It was a tight squeeze through the service entrance, but she had done this a thousand times before. The research lab was just ahead. She could see the entrance now, a set of double doors marked with a red "RESTRICTED" sign. The thick, industrial locks were meant to keep people like her out. But Ira had learned a long time ago that rules only existed for people who were afraid to break them.
She pulled out a set of tools she kept hidden in her jacket and went to work on the lock. Her hands were steady despite the mounting tension in her chest. There was no time to hesitate now. If someone saw her, it would all fall apart.
The lock clicked open with a soft, satisfying sound.
Ira stepped inside.
The lab was colder than the hallway, and the air smelled faintly of antiseptic. She flicked on the lights and immediately scanned the room. It was a standard research space—benches covered in equipment, files strewn about, and computers blinking dimly in the corner.
But it was the files that caught her attention.
They were stacked high on a central table, labeled with a name that sent a jolt of recognition through her. "Project Phoenix."
Ira's breath hitched. She recognized the name from her research on the trials. It was a code. A cover-up.
She reached for the first folder, fingers trembling as she flipped it open. The contents were chilling. Genetic samples, surgical procedures, test results.
And then there was a final sheet, scrawled with a series of names.
Aanya's was on it. And there, listed right next to her, was Ira's own name.
Her heart skipped a beat.