The following morning, I found myself restless. My coffee sat untouched on the table, growing cold as my mind spiraled. The footage from the pen had become a loop in my brain—revealing, yet painfully incomplete. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t satisfied with glimpses. I needed clarity. I needed to get closer.

A name floated back into focus: Nikhil Singh.

My college friend. A tech genius with a curious mind and just enough moral flexibility. He had recently moved to the city, consulting for cybersecurity firms. If anyone could help me tighten the web around Mahir, it was him.

I grabbed my phone and dialed.

“Ritika?” His voice was warm, surprised. “Wow, it’s been—”

“I need a favor,” I said, skipping the pleasantries. “Today. Can you meet?”

A pause. Then, “Of course. Where?”

---

The café smelled of cinnamon and nostalgia. When I walked in, I spotted him instantly , head bent over a laptop, papers scattered around like a digital battlefield. He looked up, smiled, and stood.

“Ritika!” Nikhil beamed, pulling me into a brief hug. “You look exactly the same.”

I returned the smile, but my mind was already racing. “Thanks. You too.”

We sat. After a few seconds of small talk, I dove straight into it.

“I need your help with something sensitive. Surveillance-related.”

His brow lifted, but he nodded. “Go on.”

I told him everything , about the pen camera, about Mahir, and my obsession with decoding him. I didn’t bother pretending it was just professional curiosity anymore. Nikhil watched me quietly, his coffee forgotten.

“You’re serious about this,” he finally said.

“More than I’ve ever been,” I admitted. “The footage isn’t enough. I need something more sophisticated. Motion triggers. Audio enhancements. Remote syncing.”

He hesitated, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not... stalking him, are you?”

I met his gaze. “I’m studying him. There’s a difference.”

Nikhil exhaled, tapping his fingers against his mug, knowing very well that it is practically stalking but he can not deny his friend...right. “Okay. I can help. I’ll build you a new surveillance kit. Something discreet. A week, tops.”

I smiled, genuinely. “I knew I could count on you.”

He didn’t smile back immediately. “Just promise me something, Ritika.”

“What?”

“Don’t lose yourself in this. Whatever this is.”

His words hit a strange nerve, but I brushed it off. “I’m fine. I just need the truth.”

We spent the next hour mapping logistics. As I walked away from the café, the sun dipped low, casting shadows across the pavement. My heart beat faster, not from guilt but anticipation. The game had just deepened.

---

Meanwhile...

In his office, Mahir sat in contemplative silence. A file open in front of him, untouched. His eyes drifted to the window, then briefly to the pen resting in his coat pocket.

He frowned.

Only for a moment.

_______

The city slept under a blanket of lights, unaware of the storm swirling within me.

As I walked home from the café, Nikhil’s words echoed in my mind: Don’t lose yourself in this.

But I already had.

The footage from the pen had opened a door and now that it was ajar, I couldn’t close it. I didn’t want to.

I wasn’t just observing Mahir anymore. I was tracking him. Studying him like a riddle I refused to leave unsolved.

I went to sleep with his voice, soft, sharp, deliberate , playing on a loop. And when morning arrived, I wasn’t tired. I was energized. Possessed.

.
.
.
.
.

AN : Short chapter.. I know, but I hope you like our new friend, Nikhil.. Cute, isn't he? Do let me know your thoughts and don't forget him. 👀

See you in the next one❤