The musty smell hit Manish as soon as he entered the cramped office—dusty files stacked like forgotten tombstones, the stale bitterness of tea long gone cold, and something heavier... the metallic tang of tension that wrapped around the room like a suffocating fog. The creak of the old fan overhead barely stirred the thick air.

Chaudhary sat hunched, spectacles sliding down his nose, the same old crease between his brows that never left no matter how many files he’d won. He moved his fingers deliberately, careful to reveal the contents of a thick, weathered folder. Yellowed, curling pages lay spread before them, but the weight contained within was far from fragile.