We had been told we could explore the house while Dr. Raghav Malhotra was away, but neither of us felt like moving around, so we stayed where we were and sat in the garden, taking the same chairs his daughter had been sitting on earlier, arranged around a small circular white table that stood quietly in the middle of the space.
Time passed slowly.
Nearly an hour later, the low hum of an approaching MV broke the silence, and we watched as Dr. Malhotra returned, guiding the vehicle into the garden before stepping out, and without any visible mechanism or sound, the MV descended smoothly into the ground, the surface closing over it as if nothing had ever been there, the grass restoring itself within seconds.
He turned toward us before entering the house, his expression calm but attentive.
"Hey kiddos, I hope you ate something."
We didn't respond, but we didn't need to.
He read it on our faces.
Without another word, he turned slightly and called out toward the house.
"Madhu, come out!"
A young man stepped outside a moment later, dressed in a white shirt and black pants that resembled a uniform, his posture slightly stiff as he approached us, clearly the house helper. There was something unsettled about his appearance, a long scar running from his forehead down to the middle of his nose, carefully missing his eyes, and his skin darker than most people I had seen around here, which made the scar stand out even more.
"I told you to serve our guests before leaving, didn't I?" Dr. Malhotra said, his voice low, controlled, but carrying clear annoyance.
"Sorry sir… I mean Dr… I won't repeat," the man replied quickly, his nervousness visible in both his tone and the way he avoided direct eye contact.
Dr. Malhotra gestured for him to go, and within minutes he returned with juice for us, placing the glasses down before quietly stepping away to continue his work.
We nodded in acknowledgment, and then it was just the three of us again.
Dr. Malhotra pulled a chair and sat across from us, and for a moment there was complete silence, the kind that wasn't uncomfortable but uncertain, like he was deciding where to begin.
So I spoke first.
"My dad told me to visit you in India… that he won't be able to see me for fifteen years and—"
"I know," he said, interrupting gently but firmly, his voice steady, "and I can imagine there are a thousand questions in your mind right now, but I won't be able to answer everything at once."
He leaned back slightly, his tone softening.
"Ask one at a time, and we'll go through it slowly, I'll try my best to answer everything, okay?"
I nodded.
And began asking.
I started from the beginning, telling him everything I could, how I had fainted without any warning and woken up with my mind racing through a thousand thoughts in a single second, how even the faintest source of light had started to irritate me, how everything felt sharper, faster, overwhelming in a way I couldn't explain, but I held back one part again, the part about receiving those forty extra years, choosing not to say it out loud.
But this time, Anthony didn't stay silent.
*Ahem* "Sorry to interrupt… sir, he also got an additional forty years when he regained consciousness," he said, his tone steady, "the readings were accurate, we checked multiple times using different machines."
I turned toward him immediately, my expression tightening with annoyance, but he avoided my gaze and looked away, as if he had already decided it needed to be said.
Dr. Raghav Malhotra leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting, not shocked, but deeply focused.
"Forty more years?" he repeated, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful than reactive, "who would give that much to you… your father didn't tell me about this…"
He paused.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Wait… you didn't tell your father, did you?"
I didn't answer directly, I just rubbed the side of my forehead, and that was enough.
He understood.
"Alright…" he said after a moment, leaning back slightly, "just tell me what happened after that."
So I continued.
I told him about my professor, about what he had revealed regarding the chip, how the system worked, how it limited people without them even realizing it, and how everything had led us to Norway, how that decision had pulled us into something far bigger than we had expected, and how we had ended up here, stuck in India while everything else seemed to fall apart.
When I finally stopped, I looked at him directly.
"The only thing I need to understand right now is why I can't see my father… and why he told me to avoid scans and withdrawals," I said, my voice steady but firm, "that's enough for now."
Dr. Raghav Malhotra nodded slowly, taking a moment to process everything, his silence not empty but deliberate, like he was arranging the pieces in his mind before responding.
He was about to speak.
But I stopped him.
"Wait… sorry, sir… before that, could you tell me how you know my father?" I asked, shifting slightly forward, "I think that's where this should start."
He leaned back into his chair, adjusting his posture into something more relaxed, though his expression remained serious.
He let out a slow breath.
"Okay…" he said, almost to himself, "that's going to be a long story then."