“Sir… I’ve never been with anyone before… not a woman, not a man. You’re the first person I trusted this much…” Advertisements
The red light on the recorder kept blinking.
Rohan stood frozen beside the bed, staring at the open trolley bag as if his body had forgotten how to move.
A few minutes ago, he had been nervous for a completely different reason.
He thought this night was about trust.
About finally opening his heart to someone.
But now, looking at the things inside Vikram’s bag, Rohan felt something cold crawl up his spine.
There were no clothes.
No laptop.
Not even toiletries.
Only a thick brown folder.
Under it were several smaller envelopes, a digital camera, and what looked disturbingly like printed photographs.
Rohan’s throat tightened.
— “What… what is all this?”
Vikram didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he calmly picked up the folder, placed it on the table, and opened it like he had been preparing for this moment for a long time.
The first thing Rohan saw made his blood turn cold.
A photograph.
Of him.
Walking out of his apartment building two weeks earlier.
