Chapter 3: Collision

The girl shot me a wary look. Her eyes narrowed, suspicion flashing across her face. For a second, I saw a flicker of fear—then she hid it behind bravado, lips pressed into a thin line as if daring me to challenge her.

She mumbled, not exactly politely, 'You heard all that, so just forget it. Don’t get your hopes up. Our group works on national-level secret projects—not just anyone can get in.' She hugged her backpack closer, voice trembling but determined. It was the tone of someone who’d been mocked before, now refusing to show weakness.

I couldn’t help but laugh—short, incredulous, shaking my head. In the mirror, I saw her cheeks flush with embarrassment or anger—maybe both.

I glanced at her in the rearview, then, speechless, switched on my indicator and pulled over. Hazard lights blinked in the darkness, my fingers tapping the steering wheel. Silence stretched between us, broken only by distant fireworks from a far-off colony.

She clearly hadn’t expected me to stop. Her body tensed, back straightening, eyes darting to the locked doors. The car felt like a cage. She shrank back, clutching her bag—a steel dabba poking from the zipper, a little piece of home.

'Wh-what are you doing? Why did you stop all of a sudden?' Her voice rose, trembling but defiant. The fear was back, and I felt a pang of regret—maybe I’d pushed too hard.

I quickly explained, 'Don’t be scared, I’m not a bad person. I just wanted to talk for a moment. You can’t go to this interview.' I softened my tone, hands up in surrender. 'I have a daughter at home. I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.'

'This is obviously a scam company, calling you here at night. I’m worried you’ll go in alive and not come out at all.' I spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. I remembered every news story, every WhatsApp forward about missing girls and fake companies. Her haunted look reminded me of those police posters.

'Don’t you watch the news? The world’s not safe—job rackets, human trafficking, women and children getting taken, you name it.' I tried to sound like every worried uncle, every overprotective father. 'You have to be smart, beta. There’s a reason parents keep warning us, no?'

'From your accent, you’re not from around here. This area? Supposed to be a new industrial zone, but just a few years ago it was all demolished bastis. There’s no one here, let alone companies.' I gestured at the ghostly outlines outside. 'Even auto-walas don’t come here after dark.'

'You look so young—I can’t just watch you walk into trouble.' My voice cracked a little. I thought of my sister, her first day in the city, clutching her bag. Sometimes, strangers have to do what family cannot.

'How about this? Let me do one good deed today. Don’t go. I’ll take you back to the city for free, okay?' I forced a smile, trying to sound like a friendly big brother. 'No charge, I promise. Just think of it as a brother’s blessing for the New Year.'

Her eyes filled with tears. She blinked rapidly, fighting to keep her composure. For a moment I thought she’d say yes, but then pride and fear slipped back in.

She grabbed her phone, dialing with shaking hands. She found the number and pressed call—her lifeline to the world outside this car. I worried she was calling the police—my heart skipped a beat. Driving an illegal cab during crackdown season, I imagined losing my job, my car—everything. My palms grew sweaty.

But she was calling her boyfriend. Relief hit me like a wave. At least not the police—yet.

'Hello? What now?' Her voice was shrill, panicked, echoing in the small space. She clutched her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Her sobs filled the car, raw and unfiltered. She didn’t even try to hide her fear—just let it out, like a child after a nightmare. 'Baby, the taxi driver stopped before we even got there, right on the side of the road. Is he going to rob me or something?' She clutched her chest, hand pressed to her heart, as if to steady herself. 'Baby, come save me!'

I have never been so speechless. My jaw dropped. I wanted to protest, to explain, but the words stuck. Nothing in my years behind the wheel had prepared me for this kind of misunderstanding.

Suddenly, a string of abuses exploded from the phone. The boyfriend’s voice thundered out, full of swagger and menace: 'Oye, kaun hai re tu, illegal taxi chalaata hai kya? Haath lagaya toh dekh loonga! Tu jaanta hai Bhaiya Arjun kaun hai?' The mention of ‘Bhaiya Arjun’ was meant to scare me, but I pictured a gully cricket captain with a bad temper.

'Try me and I’ll bring my boys over and mess you up!' The southern accent added drama, but I wasn’t impressed. I grew up in Hyderabad—Telugu, Hindi, Kannada, Tamil, Urdu—I’d heard every threat there is.

What kind of delusional couple is this? I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. The world is full of drama, and tonight I’d collected the lead actors.

My temper flared. 'Who are you abusing, kid? Do you even know what’s going on?' I made sure the speakerphone caught every word. 'You don’t even know the full story, and you’re threatening me? Control your tongue!'

'If I were really a bad guy, would I let your girlfriend call for help? I’m saving her, okay? If I wanted to harm her, I’d have taken her phone by now. Use your brain, bhai.'

'Your girlfriend’s being scammed—do you understand that?' I practically shouted, hoping something would get through. 'This is a fake job! Are you so blind you can’t see?'

The girl sobbed harder, wiping her nose on her sleeve, not caring about her makeup anymore. She curled up, face hidden behind her bag. The car felt even smaller, the air thick with fear and misunderstanding.

'Wuwuwu, baby, he overheard the company’s secrets and now he says it’s all a scam.' She wailed the words, half-accusation, half-confession.

The boyfriend’s voice lost its bravado, turning sharp and impatient. He muttered something in Telugu, then snapped in Hindi, 'Don’t you have a brain? Didn’t your mother tell you not to talk outside?'

Then he turned on me again, even filthier this time: 'Oye illegal cab waale, apni nautanki band kar! Scam hai ya nahi, woh hamara kaam hai! Apna kaam kar, chup raho!'

I let out a bitter laugh—no good deed goes unpunished in this world. Maybe next time I’ll just keep my mouth shut.

Fine, you want to die that badly? My anger boiled, but I kept it inside. I gripped the wheel, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road ahead. I’ll take you there. Whatever happens, don’t blame me. I said nothing more, just started the car and pulled away. Sometimes, you have to let people learn the hard way.