Chapter 4: Doubt, Distance, and Danger

When I woke up the next morning, Priya was already up, putting on makeup in front of the mirror. She looked different—colder, somehow. She didn’t smile when I called her name.

Now fully sober, I thought back on last night and felt pretty damn happy. I stretched, feeling like a king. For once, life seemed perfect. I hugged her from behind and started getting handsy again.

She stiffened, pulling away slightly, eyes fixed on the mirror. But this time, she stopped me. She turned around, lips pursed. “Kabir, can we talk for a second?”

I saw her face was a little cold and asked what was wrong. Her tone was different—more serious. “Why didn’t you mention the gold before?”

She complained, asking why I hadn’t mentioned the gold before. Her voice was sharp, almost accusatory. I felt my stomach drop. I finally remembered what I’d said and regretted drinking so much. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Had I really told her everything?

I didn’t know why she kept grilling me about this, but instinctively, I got cautious. I tried to remember my NDA, my promise to myself never to talk. I needed to fix this—fast.

I quickly explained I’d just heard about it, was just talking nonsense, nothing for sure. “Yaar, I was just joking. Tumko lagta hai main sach bol raha tha?” I tried to laugh it off, but she didn’t smile.

Her expression changed. She eyed me suspiciously. “Who did you hear it from? How could you make it sound so real if you were just making it up?” She stared at me, eyes narrowed. My heart thumped. What did she really want?

I said, “What do you think I do? I’m in marketing—of course I make things sound good! I just overheard some workers talking when I went back to the PG that afternoon.”

I tried to sound exasperated, even throwing in a shrug for effect. “Yaar, mere dimaag ka khel tha sab!”

She stared at me. “Then why’d you say you picked up a piece?” Now she was really grilling me, like I was some criminal. I kept my face blank.

I said, “You know how strict our site was—like Fort Knox. How could I get in? I was just bragging.” I added, “Amit ko thoda udaa raha tha bas. Kuch nahi hai mere paas.”

She thought for a bit, then asked one last question. She paused, tapping her nails on the table. “Did you tell anyone else about the gold?”

I said, “Why are you still on this? I was just drunk and bragging last night. Normally, I’d never say anything. You know about that NDA we signed, right? I wouldn’t dare blab.”

I tried to sound annoyed, even indignant. But inside, I was shaking. Seeing I was annoyed, she finally stopped asking. She forced a smile, picking up her bag. “Chalo, chhodo. Let’s not fight.”

But when I hugged her from behind again, she turned around and told me she’d just gotten a call from a classmate in Mumbai and had to leave right away. She started packing, moving briskly. “Sorry, Kabir. It’s urgent. I’ll call you from the airport.”

I was annoyed. “Come on, you’re ditching me now? Who’d ask you to come over right before Diwali?” I pouted, but she only smiled, holding up her phone. “Look, it’s my classmate’s number. He’s in trouble.”

She gave her trademark smile and showed me her flight itinerary. Her phone screen glowed with a real ticket—Mumbai, 2:35 PM. I felt foolish for doubting her.

“Really, I’m not lying. I’ll be back in a couple of days—wait for me.” She kissed my cheek, her perfume lingering. “I promise, Kabir. Don’t get into trouble, okay?”

Seeing her ticket, I couldn’t argue, so I forced a smile. What else could I do? I told myself not to overthink. “Alright, I’ll let you off this time. Come find me as soon as you’re back.” I tried to sound playful, but my heart wasn’t in it.

“Okay.” She squeezed my hand, picked up her bag, and walked out, head high. She kissed my cheek, packed up, and left. The door clicked shut. The room felt colder.

I slept a bit more, then checked out and went home. The receptionist gave me a knowing grin. “Mast night tha, bhai?” I just smiled weakly.

On the way, I thought about our conversation and still felt weird. Priya’s questions echoed in my head. Was I just being paranoid? What was up with Priya, always asking about the site? Could she have been sent by the company to spy on me?

The thought made me laugh. “Arrey, main kaun sa PM hoon?” Still, the suspicion wouldn’t leave.

But thinking about last night, I quickly dismissed it. She was too real, too warm to be part of any company plot. Or so I told myself. Who’d go to such lengths just to get some uncertain info? She was probably just curious.

In small towns, gossip is currency. Maybe she just wanted a good story for her friends in Mumbai.

Right, there’s someone I need to thank first. Amit had been the perfect wingman. I owed him big time.

I pulled out my phone and called Amit. I grinned as I dialed, already planning our next night out.

But weirdly, no answer. His phone rang out. That wasn’t like him—Amit always picked up, even in the middle of a cricket match.

I called Amit several times, but still got nothing. Each call went unanswered. I sent a WhatsApp—single tick only. Was he still sleeping?

Then I called his house. His mum said he’d come home last night, but early in the morning he got a call and rushed out. “Amit subah 6 baje gaya tha, beta. Bola, urgent kaam hai.” Her voice was worried, but not alarmed yet.

I was puzzled. It was almost Diwali—what urgent business could there be? How could he be missing for half a day? Amit wasn’t the type to disappear. I started pacing my room, unease gnawing at me.

Thinking about it, I walked back to my building. The lane was quieter than usual. Somewhere, a kid burst a cracker, and a dog barked in protest. My building loomed ahead, its paint peeling in places, but usually safe and familiar.

But downstairs, I saw a crowd and police cars flashing their lights. Something had happened.

Neighbours were huddled in groups, whispering. The blue-and-white police jeep was parked right outside the gate. My stomach turned to ice.

I got a bad feeling and hurried over to see what was going on. I pushed past a couple of uncles, craning my neck. There was a commotion on the ground floor, and I caught sight of the constable taking notes.

Pushing through the crowd, I saw neighbours from my building talking to the police. One aunty was wringing her hands, another was whispering to the inspector. Someone pointed upstairs, and the watchman shook his head, looking scared.

The old man who lived downstairs spotted me and came over. He was the same uncle who always complained about my bike parking. Today, his face was grave. He grabbed my arm gently.

“Kabir beta, you’re back. There was a burglary in our building last night. You’d better go check if anything’s missing from your place.”

My phone buzzed, but it was just a spam message. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling something was off. The gold in my drawer suddenly felt heavier than ever. And for the first time, I wondered if taking it had been the biggest mistake of my life.