The evening sky had just begun to fade into a deep violet, the last traces of sunlight clinging softly to the temple spire behind them. What they had witnessed there still lingered, unsettling their thoughts. The faint scent of incense and the echo of temple bells seemed to follow them along the quiet path back into the village, as if the moment refused to let go.
They walked side by side, unhurried—yet heavy with thought. They now carried more questions than answers.
The narrow road was lined with small houses, their windows glowing warmly. A soft breeze stirred the leaves, carrying with it the distant murmur of evening prayers. Normally comforting, tonight it felt distant, almost unreal.
As they walked, their minds circled around the strange patterns they had begun to notice over the past few days. And now, with what Diya's mother had revealed about the past, those patterns felt less like coincidence and more like something deliberate… something dangerous.
Suddenly, Sumendu stopped.
"It's your father," he said, his voice tightening with urgency. "He wants to visit his brother again—despite everything. Don't you see? It's the pattern pushing him. The same thing must be about to happen again."
Diya turned to him, her expression shifting from confusion to realization.
"I think there's danger waiting for him at my father's house," Sumendu continued quickly. "They'll be expecting him. It's a trap. And if we can stop him from going—just this once—we might be able to break the pattern. It's only about tomorrow. He just needs to stay back."
For a split second, silence hung between them. Then Diya nodded sharply. She understood.
"We need to get home. Now."
They broke into a run.
Within minutes, they reached Diya's house, breathless and tense. Diya rushed straight to her father's room—only to find it empty. Her heart sank as her eyes fell on the open space where his travel bag had been. It was gone.
"No…" she whispered.
She hurried back to Sumendu, who was already searching frantically for her mother. He found her in the backyard, seated on the ground, tears streaming down her face. He knelt beside her, trying to calm her, though his own fear was barely contained.
Diya joined them moments later.
"Where is Dad?" she demanded, her voice sharp, almost breaking.
Her mother looked up, sobbing. "He left… He said his brother had called him after so many years. He believes… he believes his brother has changed." Her voice trembled. "I tried to stop him. We argued… but he wouldn't listen. I don't see anything good coming from this."
"Nothing good will come from it," Diya replied, her voice rising with panic. "This is a trap! How could you let him go?"
"Diya," Sumendu cut in firmly, stepping between them. "This isn't the time to fight."
He looked at both of them, urgency blazing in his eyes.
"We still have time. If we reach my home before anything happens, we can still break this pattern. That's what matters now."
He extended his hand slightly, as if pulling them both forward.
"Come. We have to go—now."
The next bus leaves in 15 mins we need to rush...
As they raced toward the bus stand, their breaths came in sharp bursts, hearts pounding with urgency. Just ahead, the last bus was already pulling out of the depot.
"Wait!" Sumendu shouted, but the engine roared louder.
Without a second thought, he sprinted forward and slammed his hand hard against the side of the bus, banging on the door with all his strength. The sharp, sudden impact startled the driver, who hit the brakes instantly. The bus jerked to a halt.
Inside, passengers lurched forward, and a chorus of irritated voices rose at once—angry complaints, curses thrown in his direction. But Sumendu barely noticed. This was no ordinary interruption, no careless act.
Desperate times demanded desperate measures.
He stood there, chest heaving, eyes fixed with determination. This wasn't just another journey.
It was the kind that comes only once in a lifetime—and failure was not an option.