Chapter 7: The Magician's Next Act

I closed the surveillance app, turning off the dashcam footage. I could only imagine… when those men realised there was no coin in the truck, what kind of chaos would erupt, how wild things would get. How would they take out their anger on Kunal? I didn’t dare look. I didn’t want to.

In truth, this was a two-person magic trick. Somewhere, the distant echo of a chaiwala’s bell floated in from the main road. My hand, still shaking, reached for my lucky talisman—a red thread tied by my dadi on the day I left home. India is a country of illusions and loyalties. Sometimes, you can’t tell which is which until the very last act.

The truck door creaked open, sunlight spilling in, but all that remained was the scent of stale onions and my fading laughter.

The red thread around my wrist pulsed with every heartbeat. The next act was about to begin—and this time, the stakes were higher than ever.