The police station became a battlefield of fear and courage.
Vikram had come himself.
Cornered men were the most dangerous.
Aarav pulled Meera behind the records desk while Dev returned fire from the doorway.
"Stay down!" Dev shouted.
But Meera looked strangely calm.
She stood.
"Meera!" Aarav hissed.
She turned to him.
"I ran for three years. Not tonight."
Before he could stop her, she stepped into the open courtyard outside the station.
Rain had begun again.
Vikram stood near the gate, gun in hand, wild-eyed and furious.
"You should've stayed dead," he growled.
Meera lifted her chin.
"No. You should've been exposed sooner."
He aimed the gun at her.
Aarav ran forward—
But before Vikram could fire, Inspector Dev shot the gun from his hand.
The weapon flew into the mud.
Vikram tried to run.
Aarav tackled him hard to the ground.
Years of pain, helplessness, and rage crashed into that moment.
But instead of hitting him again, Aarav pinned him down until the constables handcuffed him.
"It's over," Dev said.
For the first time in years, Meera believed it.