Night arrived quietly.

Not with sound—but with fear.

Oil lamps flickered inside mud houses. Doors shut early. Voices dropped into whispers. Even the dogs seemed to understand that silence here was not peace—it was survival.

Haseena Malik sat inside her car, parked near the edge of the village. Cold seeped through the metal doors, creeping into her bones. She pulled her shawl tighter around herself, arms crossed, breath visible in the air.

For the first time in years, she shivered—not from danger, but from the raw, unfamiliar cold.

Exhaustion caught up with her.

Her eyes closed.

Just for a moment.

When she woke, the world had changed.

Darkness had settled thick and heavy. The village lay still, unnaturally so. She stepped out quietly and moved into the small rented room she had arranged earlier—a mud structure barely holding together.

A charpai.

A cracked mirror hanging crooked on the wall.

One small window facing the forest.

She hadn’t left.

Despite Karishma’s warning.

Because running was never how Haseena Malik worked.

She removed her watch and placed it beside her bag. No phone. No visible weapon. To anyone watching, she was harmless.

But every nerve in her body was awake.

From the window, she observed.

Men moved through the village—not like tired laborers returning home, but like sentries on duty.

Two near the ration shed.

One along the forest path.

One on the roof of the old, abandoned school.

Positions.

Coverage.

Control.

This wasn’t a village.

It was a camp.

Her gaze shifted instinctively toward the forest.

And then—

She saw her.

Karishma.

Bare feet brushing dry leaves. No torch. No hesitation. No sound.

The girl moved through the darkness like it belonged to her.

Haseena’s breathing slowed.

She shouldn’t be out at night.

Karishma paused near the ration shed and crouched behind a tree. Her head tilted slightly, eyes sharp—as if she were listening to something deeper than footsteps.

She picked up a small pebble.

Threw it.

Clang.

The pebble struck a tin sheet far away.

One guard turned.

Karishma moved.

Fast.

Silent.

She slipped behind the shed, reached beneath a loose wooden plank, and pulled out a small packet.

She froze.

Footsteps.

A shadow passed dangerously close.

Karishma didn’t panic.

She pressed her back to the wall, slowed her breathing, counted seconds—not heartbeats.

The guard moved on.

Karishma exhaled.

That was when Haseena stepped out of the darkness.

Karishma spun.

In one fluid motion, she raised her hand—ready to strike—

Haseena caught her wrist mid-air.

Firm.

Precise.

Non-violent.

Their eyes locked.

For a heartbeat, neither spoke.

“Aap?” Karishma whispered, startled.

“Tum kya kar rahi ho?” Haseena asked quietly.

Karishma pulled her hand free.

“Ye sawal mujhe poochhna chahiye.”

She glanced around nervously.

“Yahan khade rehna safe nahi hai.”

“Tum raat ko ration shed ke paas kyun ho?” Haseena pressed.

Karishma hesitated.

Then her jaw tightened.

“Kyuki kal do aur bachche gayab honge.”

Haseena felt the chill spread through her veins.

“Tumhe kaise pata?”

Karishma looked away.

“Pata hota hai.”

She held the packet tighter.

Haseena stepped closer.

“Kya hai usmein?”

“Jawab,” Karishma said quietly.

“Aur zeher.”

Before Haseena could respond, voices echoed nearby.

Karishma grabbed her hand.

“Bhaagna nahi aata toh seekh lo, didi.”

And she ran.

Pulled her along.

Haseena followed—heart pounding—not from fear, but disbelief.

They crossed the forest, ducked under low branches, slid down a small slope, and stopped only when the village lights were far behind them.

Karishma finally let go.

“You RAW ho,” she said suddenly.

Haseena froze.

“Main galat hoon?”

Silence answered.

Haseena studied her—really studied her this time.

“Tumein kaun batata hai ye sab?” she asked softly.

Karishma shrugged.

“Koi nahi. Bas… samajh aa jata hai.”

She opened the packet.

Inside were small, colorful sweets.

Laced.

“Bachchon ko yahi khilaya jaata hai,” Karishma said flatly.

“Pehle aadat. Phir supply. Phir gayab.”

Haseena’s fists clenched.

“Tumein ye sab kyun pata?” she asked, voice gentler now.

Karishma met her gaze.

“Kyuki main bhi kabhi ginati mein thi.”

The words hit harder than a bullet.

“They tried,” Karishma continued.

“Par main bhaag gayi.”

“Kaise?”

Karishma’s eyes darkened.

“Jaise aaj bhaagi.”

Haseena exhaled slowly.

This wasn’t instinct.

This was survival—sharpened into skill.

“Tum kisi ko batati kyun nahi?” Haseena asked.

Karishma gave a faint, sad smile.

“Gaon mein sach bolne wale zyada jeete nahi hain, didi.”

She paused.

“Aap bhi zyada din nahi tikengi,” she added.

“Par shayad… thoda farq daal sakti ho.”

She turned to leave.

“Main phir milungi.”

“Kab?” Haseena asked.

Karishma glanced back, eyes unreadable.

“Jab aap decide kar lo—ye case hai… ya zimmedari.”

And then she disappeared into the forest.

Minutes later, Karishma returned.

Her eyes went straight to the car.

“Ye gaadi yahan kyun rakhi hai?” she muttered.

“Kaisi RAW ho, kuch sikhaya nahi kya?”

Haseena blinked.

“Yahan kisi ne gaadi dekh li na,” Karishma warned,

“toh lene ke dene pad jaayenge.”

She thought for a second, then nodded toward the edge of the village.

“Pass mein ek purana garage hai. Kaafi time se band hai. Wahi le chalte hain.”

They drove silently.

The garage stood abandoned—rusted shutter, broken signboard, dust everywhere.

Karishma studied the car critically.

“Abhi bhi alag lag rahi hai.”

She bent down, searched nearby, grabbed handfuls of loose soil—

And began throwing mud over the car.

Haseena stared.

Karishma rubbed dirt along the tyres, splashed dust across the doors, dulled the shine.

“Ab purani lagegi,” she said calmly.

She stepped back, satisfied.

Then turned to leave.

As she walked away, she called out lightly—

“Day one as a spy in the village,” she said with a smirk.

“Mission failed.”

And she vanished into the dark.

Haseena stood there, staring at the mud-covered car.

For the first time in her career, she wasn’t questioning a case.

She was questioning the system.

Because this village wasn’t just hiding criminals.

It was hiding a child who had already learned too much to be saved easily.

And Haseena Malik knew—

This mission was no longer undercover.

It was personal.

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That's it for today's chapter! ✨

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