The 11:47 PM train from Siliguri Junction was always nearly empty. That night, the fog hung low like a secret unwilling to be revealed. Arjun boarded the last compartment, his breath visible in the cold air, his heart heavier than the suitcase he carried.
He wasn't running away.
He was running toward someone.
Aanya.
A girl he had met exactly 27 days ago — in the most ordinary way — when she accidentally spilled tea on his notebook at a roadside stall. She had apologized with a smile that felt like sunrise after a lifetime of darkness.
And then she disappeared.
No phone. No address. Only one clue left behind:
"If you ever want the truth, take the last train on the 24th."
Tonight was the 24th.
A Stranger in the Fog
The train lurched forward. As Arjun settled into his seat, he noticed he wasn't alone.
A woman sat across from him, face hidden beneath a dark shawl. Her fingers trembled around a silver locket.
"Don't trust what you see tonight," she whispered without looking up.
Arjun frowned. "Excuse me?"
She slowly lifted her gaze. Her eyes were identical to Aanya's.
But colder. Older. Broken.
Before he could speak, the lights flickered — once, twice — then went out completely.
The train plunged into darkness.
The Message in the Dark
When the emergency lights buzzed on, the woman was gone.
In her place lay the silver locket.
Inside it — a tiny photograph.
Arjun's photograph.
His chest tightened. How could she have this? He had never seen her before tonight… except she had Aanya's eyes.
The train screeched to an unscheduled halt in the middle of nowhere. Fog pressed against the windows like ghostly hands.
Then his phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
"Get down at the next stop if you want her alive."
Alive.
The word shattered his breath.
The Town That Didn't Exist
The train stopped at a platform with no name.
No lights. No people. Just an old signboard, its letters scratched away.
Arjun stepped off.
The train doors slammed shut behind him — and without warning, it departed, leaving him alone in a town that seemed erased from the world.
A single lantern glowed at the far end of the platform.
And beneath it stood Aanya.
Love Wrapped in Lies
He ran to her. She didn't move.
"Aanya… where did you go? What is happening?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "You shouldn't have come."
He froze. "I came because you asked me to."
She shook her head. "No. They asked you to."
Footsteps echoed behind them.
Men emerged from the fog — silent, deliberate, dangerous.
Aanya grabbed his hand. "My father leads them. He believes you have something he wants."
"I don't even know him!"
She whispered, "He believes you're the only witness to a crime you don't remember."
A Memory That Was Never Lost
The silver locket suddenly felt heavy in his pocket.
A flash hit him — headlights, rain, a roadside accident, a man dragged from a car, a terrified girl screaming.
Aanya.
He staggered. "I… I saw something. Weeks ago."
Her voice broke. "You saw my father kill someone."
The men closed in.
"Run," she said.
The Choice
They ran through narrow alleys swallowed by fog. Gunshots shattered the silence.
They reached a broken bridge overlooking a roaring river.
No escape.
Aanya turned to him, trembling. "If they catch you, they'll kill you. If they catch me, they'll own me."
He held her face. "Then we jump together."
She smiled through tears. "You'd die for someone you met 27 days ago?"
He shook his head. "No. I'd live for you. Even if it's only one more second."
Footsteps. Guns raised.
They leapt.
Moonlight
The river was ice and thunder. Arjun fought the current, searching for her hand.
Then — fingers intertwined.
They surfaced beneath a break in the clouds.
Moonlight poured down like a blessing.
On the shore, the men searched, their lanterns blind to the current carrying the lovers away.
Aanya rested her head on his shoulder, breath shaking.
"We're fugitives now."
Arjun smiled.
"Then let the world chase us."
The river carried them into the unknown — into danger, into exile, into a love born in fear but stronger than truth itself.
And somewhere in the distance, a train whistle echoed — as if the night itself had witnessed their escape.
The End… or the beginning?