The rusted key felt heavier than it should in Satya's palm. It wasn't just an object—it was a promise, a doorway to the truth buried beneath layers of deceit. The lifeless body on the ground was proof that they weren't the only ones chasing the past. Someone else was just as desperate to keep it hidden.
"We need to move," Virendra muttered, his voice tight with urgency. "If someone sent him, they'll come looking when he doesn't report back."
Saanvi nodded. "But where does this key lead? We have no idea what it opens."
Satya turned the key over in his fingers, his mind racing. It was old, its edges worn from time. It didn't belong to something modern—it belonged to something ancient, something forgotten.
His gaze flickered to the bookshelves lining the room. "There has to be something here. Whoever lived in this room wasn't just hiding—they were searching for Veer Meghawal's truth too."
Aryan ran a hand over the books, then paused. His fingers brushed against an uneven section of the shelf. He pressed against it, and with a soft creak, a panel slid open.
The group exchanged a tense glance before Satya stepped forward. Behind the hidden panel was a small compartment, filled with old, dust-covered documents. And in the very back, a lockbox.
Saanvi inhaled sharply. "That key… it has to fit."
Satya knelt down and inserted the rusted key into the lock. His hands were steady, but his heart pounded against his ribs. With a soft click, the lock turned, and the lid creaked open.
Inside lay a bundle of letters, a map, and an old pocket watch.
Satya picked up the letters first. The ink had faded, but the words were still legible. They were written by Veer Meghawal himself.
His breath caught as he read the first few lines aloud.
"To the one who finds this, I pray you do not suffer the fate I did. I loved, and for that, I was condemned. If my story reaches you, know that the truth still lingers in the shadows of this palace. Follow the anklet's echo, and you will find her."
Saanvi covered her mouth. "The anklet… he meant Meera."
Satya's fingers tightened around the fragile paper. This was more than just a letter—it was a message from the past, meant to lead them to the final piece of the puzzle.
But before they could read further, a noise echoed from outside the room.
Footsteps.
Heavy. Approaching fast.
Virendra's eyes darkened. "We need to leave. Now."
Satya grabbed the contents of the box and stuffed them into his bag. As Aryan slid the bookshelf panel back into place, the footsteps grew louder.
Someone was coming for them.
And this time, they wouldn't be as merciful as the last.
The past was no longer just a mystery. It was a battleground.