"Village?" Anita echoed, her brows knitting in surprise.

Divya nodded, "Yes, a village. The Mukhiya himself came and made the payment in full. This is a huge deal for me. But...I don't want to go to a place like that all alone. If you could please escort me because I'm not very friendly with the employees. I'll get bored. It'll only be for a week, and honestly, I don't want to lose this opportunity because, as you know, I'm doing everything I can to revive the company."

"No, you shouldn't even think about letting it go," she replied, though her tone was uncertain. "But...I don't know. I have this strange feeling about it."

"I feel it too," Divya admitted with a nervous chuckle, "but I think it'll go away if you're with me. Please, Anita. I know I'm asking for a lot when I really have no right—"

"You have the right as my sister. Don't forget that," she interrupted her.

She forced a smile, relief flooding her face. "So, is it a yes then?"

She sighed, weighing the decision before finally nodding. "Not a week, though. Tell him you'll wrap everything up in four days. I can only stay that long."

"Four days is fine! Thank you!" she exclaimed while hugging her in an enthusiastic hug.

She hugged her back while trying to push away the strange thought in her head that something didn't feel right, though she didn't voice it, hoping her instincts were wrong.

•••••

Days later.

Anita couldn't suppress the giddy laugh that escaped her lips as the plane's wheels lifted off the ground. She gazed out of the small window, watching the world shrink beneath her, the patchwork of fields and buildings disappearing into a hazy horizon. It was her first time flying, and the thrill of the ascent shipped a rush of adrenaline running through her veins.

Next to her, Divya adjusted her seatbelt and grinned. "Back in the day, my brother wouldn't even let me step on a plane without an adult's supervision. But today..." She gestured around them, "here we are, flying on our own. Can you believe it?"

Anita chuckled, her fingers tracing the perimeter of the armrest. "Technically, we're not entirely on our own. I've shared our live location with Mother. She's monitoring our whereabouts from Mumbai. Even though she's not here physically, I feel like she's with us in spirit."

Divya sighed in relief. "I'm glad you did that because I still have this weird feeling in my chest, like something isn't right."

Anita turned to look at her, and her smile disappeared as she spoke. "Me too. I just hope our instincts are wrong." She lowered her voice while glancing around so that no one could overhear. "I've told Mother that if we're not back in four days, she should come looking for us. I don't like villages. A lot of them still practice customs like the ones in my hometown, and it terrifies me."

"Well, nothing of that sort will happen there," Divya replied calmly. "Besides, we're only there for work. We don't live there, and we're not staying long. Forget that. This plane will land in about four hours, and after that, we'll have to take whatever transportation we can find to the village. That'll probably take another fifteen hours to reach."

She nodded quietly.

Outside the window, the clouds stretched endlessly, but the knot in her stomach refused to loosen.

She pulled the shawl on her tighter around her shoulders, warding off the cabin's chill.

*****

It had been many days since Akash's last encounter with Anita.

Every day, he tried to push away the bitter memory of her words, but the sting lingered, carving even deeper wounds as time passed.

No matter how hard he focused on work or distractions, her accusations echoed in his mind continously.

As he sat in his office, his phone buzzed on the desk, interrupting his spiraling thoughts.

He glanced at the screen—it was from the station.

Frowning, he answered the call.

"Good afternoon, Son," the commissioner's voice came through. "I just received word that Mr. Deshmukh was released on bail a week ago."

His brows knitted in shock. "What? How? I haven't withdrawn the complaint."

"Yes, but he filed for bail through the court, and it was granted," the commissioner explained.

He inhaled sharply, before responding. "I understand. Thank you for letting me know. Have a good day," he said curtly and ended the call.

His hand hovered over his phone, as he thought of calling Anita to check on her safety.

His thumb poised over her contact for a moment, but then he stopped, his jaw tightening as the painful reminder of their last conversation surfaced in his head.

"We don't share anything anymore," he muttered to himself, lowering the phone.

Yet the unease in his chest refused to settle.

He was worried about her safety along with her family's.

"I need to know if they're safe," he decided, scrolling through his contacts again and landing on her mother's number.

He pressed call and held his breath, but after a few rings, a robotic voice informed him, The number you have dialed is switched off.

His stomach twisted.

Setting the phone down, he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, "Why is her phone turned off?" he murmured.

He dialed the restaurant's landline, and it was answered almost instantly.

"Good afternoon, Girish here!" the man greeted politely.

"This is Akash Kapoor. Is Anita at the restaurant currently?" he asked calmly.

"No, Sir," the man replied after recognizing the voice. "Ma'am went on a week's break yesterday."

His chest tightened.

A week's break?

The timing made his unease grow.

Without another word, he ended the call, gripping his phone tightly while his thoughts meandered.

Is she safe?

He hardened his knuckles against the desk, debating his next move.

The idea of her mother being unreachable didn't sit well with him, especially with Deshmukh out on bail.

He picked up his phone and tried the number again, silently wishing it to connect.

The number you have dialed is switched off.

The automated message echoed in his ears, fueling his anxiety.

He stood abruptly, and his gaze darted to the door.

Should I visit her house? No! I can't go in just like that again.

But as much as he tried to reason with himself not to, the thought of her safety gnawed at him.

Pacing the room, he muttered under his breath, "I hope you're safe, Anita."

****

Their plane had landed about twenty minutes ago, and they were standing near the baggage carousel, waiting for their luggage to arrive.

She pulled out her phone and tried her mother's line again.

She pressed the device to her ear, but the little hope in her heart faded after she heard the same mechanical voice: The number you have dialed is switched off.

"Mother never switches off her phone," she muttered with a sigh, her brows furrowing. "Why would she this time? And none of my sisters have a phone." She hissed quietly.

Divya approached her, rolling their luggage toward the corner where their group were supposed to gather.

Her employees, dragging their suitcases behind them, joined shortly after.

"The Mukhiya texted me," she informed, glancing at her phone. "He's sent a vehicle for us. Let's hope it's already here." She looked at Anita and added, "Before we start the journey, we'll stop by a restaurant to have dinner since it's going to be a long ride."

She nodded absentmindedly, her focus elsewhere.

Her unease had grown sharper, like an itch she couldn't scratch.

Why would her Mother switch off her phone without any reason?

The question circled her mind like a stubborn shadow, making her chest tighten with worry.

Divya noticed her distant expression. "Are you okay?"

She blinked and forced a small smile. "Yes. Just tired."

But the truth was far from that.

Something felt wrong, and she couldn't ignore the feeling no matter how hard she tried.

They stepped out of the airport into the cool night air.

Anita's gaze shifted to the line of vehicles waiting for arriving passengers.

Divya scanned the crowd and soon spotted a man holding a sign that read, Ms. Divya.

"There's our ride," she pointed, gesturing to the man.

The driver approached them, and politely spoke.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he said in a heavy local accent. "I'm here to take you to the village. The vehicle is just over there."

They followed him to a sturdy SUV parked at the curb.

The vehicle looked well-maintained yet worn from years of travel across rugged roads.

She glanced at Divya, her unease deepening, but she kept quiet.

The driver loaded their luggage into the trunk while Divya turned to the group. "We'll stop for dinner at a restaurant on the way. It's going to be a fifteen-hour drive, so everyone needs to eat and rest as much as possible."

The employees nodded in agreement, and they all climbed into the vehicle.

Anita sat beside her in the middle row, and the SUV pulled out of the airport.

Her gaze drifted to the darkened streets, lit only by sparse streetlights and the occasional flicker of neon signs.

Her thoughts kept returning to her mother.

What if something happened?

The question chomped at her, but she pushed it aside.

An hour later, the vehicle slowed down as they approached a roadside dhaba.

Its bright fluorescent lights spilled onto the dusty road, and the aroma of spiced curries and grilled bread floated in the air.

"This is the place," the driver announced, parking near the entrance.

The group stepped out, and headed inside.

The dhaba was modest but lively, with a few travelers and locals seated at wooden tables arranged under a corrugated tin roof.

The atmosphere was filled with the sounds of chatter, clinking utensils, and the sizzling of food being cooked on open stoves.

Divya turned to Anita after they settled at a corner table. "What will you have?"

She shrugged. "Anything light."

Divya ordered for the group while Anita's gaze wandered again.

Was this trip a mistake? she wondered, tapping her fingers against the table absentmindedly.

Her eyes then darted to her phone.

She tried her mother's number again, pressing the phone tightly to her ear as she waited, but it went straight to voicemail.

"She never switches off her phone. Why did she this time?" she mumbled under her breath.

Soon, their food arrived—steaming bowls of golden lentils and fragrant curry accompanied by soft, charred rotis fresh from the tandoor. The waiter placed everything on the table with a practiced efficiency.

"Let's eat," Divya muttered, handing her a plate. "We need energy for the rest of the journey."

She nodded and picked up a piece of roti, tearing it slowly and dipping it into the dal.

Each bite felt heavy, because her mind raced with worries about her mother.

The flavours, which might have been delightful under other circumstances, tasted very bland.

"Are you okay?" Divya then asked, watching her carefully.

She forced a smile and nodded. "I am."

After their meal, they returned to the SUV.

The employees were already seated in the back row, chatting quietly.

Anita and Divya climbed into their spots, and the driver started the engine.

The first few hours of the drive passed in silence, broken only by the occasional bumps in the road and the low buzz of the engine.

The city lights had long faded, and was superseded by stretches of empty highways illuminated by the vehicle's headlights.

Anita leaned her head against the window for fresh air.

Just as she started drifting into an uneasy sleep, the driver suddenly hit the brakes, jolting everyone awake.

"What's going on?" Divya asked, her voice sharp with alarm.

"There's something on the road," he muttered.

Anita leaned forward, peering through the windshield.

In the faint light of the headlights, she saw a large tree trunk stretched out across the road, blocking their path.

Already, the surrounding area was eerily quiet, and the trees on either side swayed gently in the night breeze.

After the driver stepped out of the vehicle, Divya and Anita exchanged uneasy glances. "This doesn't feel right," Divya whispered.

Anita nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.

She glanced at the employees in the back, who were now whispering nervously among themselves.

The driver approached the fallen tree cautiously, inspecting it with his flashlight. After a moment, he turned back toward the car and shouted, "It's just a tree. Probably fell from the wind. I'll try to move it." his voice then rose. "We are here!"

Just then, a loud rustling noise erupted from the darkness beyond the road.

Anita's breath caught in her throat from fear as several shadowy figures emerged from the trees, their silhouettes illuminated by the SUV's headlights.

Divya gasped. "What... what's happening?"

"Lock the doors!" Anita shouted, her voice trembling while she reached for the lock on her side.

They marched straight toward the vehicle, their boots crunching against the gravel.

The driver, now standing to the side, watched silently as if this had all been planned.

"Anita," one of the men said, his voice firm. "Come with us."

"Why should I?" she shot back, fear lacing her tone.

"The Mukhiya sent us," the man replied. "He has no business with anyone else here. He wants just you." the man forcefully opened the door.

Divya immediately stepped between Anita and the men. "She's not going anywhere!" she yelled, her voice fierce despite the terror in her eyes. "The Mukhiya hired me, not her."

The leader smirked. "Your job was to bring her here, and you've done that. You've already been paid. Now leave, or we'll make you leave."

"What nonsense!" Divya shouted, refusing to move. "She's my responsibility, and I'm not letting you take her. He paid me to come and inspect..."

The men ignored her words and moved toward Anita.

Divya grabbed her hand, pulling her back, but the men were stronger. Two of them snooped Divya's grip away while the others seized Anita's arms.

"Let me go!" Anita screamed, kicking and struggling, but they overpowered her easily.

"Stop it!" Divya cried, clawing at the men. "You can't take her!"

However, the men shoved her aside. She fell against the car with a thud, tears streaming down her face as she watched them drag Anita toward another vehicle parked nearby.

Anita screamed and thrashed, but it was no use.

One of the men roughly tied her hands and feet with coarse rope. "Stay quiet," he growled, and shoved a cloth into her mouth to muffle her cries.

Divya on the other hand ran toward them, still yelling, "Anita! Let her go!" She grabbed onto one of the men, but he pushed her back again.

"She's not yours anymore," he said coldly.

The men threw Anita into the back seat of their vehicle and slammed the door shut.

Her muffled cries filled the air while the car sped off, leaving Divya standing helplessly in the middle of the road, her own sobs echoing into the night.

She forced herself to snap out of her panic because she couldn't just stand there, doing nothing.

She turned back to the driver, who was still standing quietly, his face unreadable.

"Why didn't you help?" she yelled at him.

The driver's gaze moved to her, his expression neutral, and he replied. "There's nothing I could have done. They were too many. It was better to stay out of their way."

"Out of their way?!" she shouted louder, her frustration boiling over. "You saw what they did! You saw how they—"

"I know," he interrupted. "But you don't understand. There's nothing I can do. The Mukhiya has control here. He's not someone you can just oppose."

Her stomach dropped at the mention of his name.

The fear that had been eating her earlier now took root deep inside her.

She just understood something was indeed not right.

"Take me to where they went," she whispered. "We're not stopping until we find her. Now!" she shouted when the driver made no attempt to move from his rooted spot.

On the other side, the car sped along the narrow, winding road.

Anita struggled against the restraints binding her hands, feet, and mouth.

The rough ropes cut into her skin, tightening with every movement.

Panic surged through her veins, but she forced herself to remain still, knowing that struggling might only make things worse. Her mind raced with questions and fear.

Why had they taken her? What did the Mukhiya want from her? Was she going to be kept here, trapped in the unknown place, far from anyone who could help?

The men's cold, disinterested stares from the front and back seats remained on her.

The car bounced over the uneven road, and her mind wandered back to the last moments before they took her.

She silently prayed Divya and the others were safe.

She strained her neck, attempting to catch a glimpse of the road ahead through the crack in the car's windows.

It was dark now, the sky overhead deepening into a heavy shade of indigo.

The car then rattled to a halt.

The men opened the door, and she instinctively tried to recoil, but they were too quick.

Strong hands grabbed her arms, pulling her roughly from the car. Her body was lifted against her will, and despite her inaudible protests, they moved her with efficiency, like she was an object, not a person.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," one of them said.

They led her to a building—an old, unwelcoming structure hidden in the shadows, far from the eyes of any passerby.

More panic crawled in her blood.

Where was she? What was going to happen to her there?

After they forced her through the door, the harsh lights of the building flashed on, blinding her momentarily.

The men shoved her into a small room, its walls bare and cold.

The door then slammed shut behind her, and the sound of the lock clicking into place echoed.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away because crying would do nothing.

She needed to think. To plan. She had to find a way to escape.

She struggled once more against the ropes, but it was no use.

She was trapped.

There was no furniture, no window to look out of. Just an enclosed space.

Her hands were still bound, but the ropes felt less tight now, and she could move them slightly. She clenched her fists, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

One of the men returned, carrying a small bowl of food.

He set it down on the floor with little regard for her distress.

"You'll eat," he said in an impassive tone. "It'll keep you strong for tomorrow."

She didn't respond because she didn't care about the food.

All she cared about was how she was going to get out of this.

The man left, and once again, she was alone in the silence of the room.

The dim light above buzzed incessantly.

She sat on the cold floor, her legs aching, and hugged her knees to her chest.

She used her elbow to check if her phone was still in place.

It was in the pocket of her saree along with some money.

She tried to pull it out, but the rope around her hands made it nearly impossible.

Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the knot, however, after several painful attempts, she managed to free it.

She glanced at the phone that only had 6% battery left.

She tried calling her mother again.

The same automated voice greeted her: "The phone is currently switched off."

"Akash!" she then whispered desperately, her finger hovering over his contact.

She wanted to call him and tell him about what was happening, to let him know she needed his help.

But, before she could dial, the door suddenly swung open with a violent creak.

The man who had brought her food earlier stormed in, his face contorted in fury. In one quick movement, he yanked the phone from her hand, and with a brutal toss, threw it against the wall. It shattered completely.

She barely had time to react because he crouched down and slapped her across the face with a force that made her head spin.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" he hissed, his voice seething with anger. "Who did you call?"

Her cheek burned, and she turned her face away, biting back her tears. "Why does the Mukhiya want me?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man didn't answer her.

Instead, he gripped her wrists tightly, and without warning, he tightened the ropes even further. The pressure made her wince as it dug into her skin, leaving no space for her to move or try anything else.

He stood over her, his eyes cold. "It's just four hours from sunrise. Try to get some rest before we proceed with our journey," he sneered, before walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.