The room was cold. The kind of cold that seeped into the bones, not just the skin. Haider stood near the desk, flipping through the old file they had found at the docks. Abrish sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the flickering light above. The silence between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken words, buried accusations, and the weight of everything they had uncovered.
Abrish finally broke the silence. "There's still something missing. Something we're not seeing."
Haider didn't look up. He kept flipping the pages, scanning names, dates, figures—numbers that meant nothing without context. "We know my father and yours were business partners. We know my father betrayed him. But why?" He turned to face her, the frustration clear in his voice. "What was so valuable that it was worth destroying a man's life?"
Abrish exhaled, rubbing her temples. "It wasn't just about money. It never is." She gestured towards the paper in his hands. "There's something bigger."
Haider's eyes narrowed. "You think it's connected to the files we found at the warehouse?"
Abrish leaned forward. "Think about it. If this was just a business betrayal, why would people still be trying to keep it buried after all these years? Why the threats? The warnings?"
Before Haider could respond, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, expecting another cryptic message, but it was an unknown number. He hesitated before answering.
A distorted voice spoke on the other end. "You're looking in the wrong places."
Haider's grip on the phone tightened. "Who is this?"
The voice ignored his question. "If you want answers, go back to where it all started."
A click. The call ended.
Haider stared at the phone, his mind racing.
Abrish sat up. "Who was it?"
He relayed the message, watching as her expression hardened.
"Back to where it all started…" she murmured. "That could mean a dozen different things."
Haider exhaled sharply. "Or just one."
The Forgotten House
Night had fallen by the time they arrived at the abandoned estate on the outskirts of the city. The gates were rusted, the walls weathered by time, but the structure still loomed, carrying the weight of secrets long buried.
"This was your family's old property?" Abrish asked, eyeing the vines snaking up the stone walls.
Haider nodded. "We haven't used it in years."
They pushed through the creaking gate and stepped inside. The air was thick with dust and the scent of decay. Their footsteps echoed in the vast, empty halls.
"This place feels…" Abrish trailed off, shivering.
"Haunted?" Haider finished.
She didn't answer.
They moved cautiously, checking room after room, searching for anything that might be a clue. Then, in the study, Haider found it—an old ledger, tucked behind a shelf.
He flipped it open. Inside, names were listed, followed by transactions—large sums of money moving between accounts, coded messages in the margins.
"What is this?" Abrish peered over his shoulder.
Haider's voice was low. "Proof."
A noise from behind them made them freeze.
A shadow moved in the hallway.
They weren't alone.
The Encounter
Haider pushed Abrish behind him, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. The floorboards creaked as the shadow stepped closer.
"Who's there?" Haider called out.
Silence.
Then, a voice they didn't recognize. "You shouldn't have come here."
A man stepped into the dim light. His eyes locked onto Haider's with something unreadable—recognition, maybe even guilt.
"You… know me?" Haider asked.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he glanced at the ledger in Haider's hand. "If you found that, you're in more danger than you realize."
Abrish stepped forward. "Then tell us the truth."
The man sighed. "The truth is a burden. Once you carry it, there's no going back."
"Try us," Haider said, his voice steely.
The man hesitated before finally speaking. "Your father wasn't just a businessman. He was part of somethingmuch darker."
Haider clenched his fists. He had suspected as much, but hearing it aloud was different. "And Abrish's father?"
The man exhaled. "He found out the truth… and he paid the price for it."
A heavy silence settled over them.
"Who else knows?" Haider finally asked.
The man hesitated. Then, in a low voice, he said, "More people than you think. And some of them don't want you alive."
A chill ran down Haider's spine.
Abrish's eyes burned with anger. "Then tell us everything."
The man shook his head. "Not here. It's not safe."
Before Haider could press further, a sound echoed from outside—footsteps approaching.
"We have to go. Now," the man said urgently.
Haider exchanged a glance with Abrish. They had come here searching for answers, but all they had found were more questions.
Still, one thing was clear—this was bigger than they had ever imagined.
And someone out there was watching.