Chapter 39: Smoke Without Fire

Rehan didn't sleep that night.

The forest outside was quiet, but his mind raced like thunder behind his eyes. He sat in the study of the safe house, lights dim, sipping cold black tea that had gone bitter with time. In front of him was the same list he had studied before — people close enough to betray Aarav and Mira.

Too many names.

Too many smiles that now felt suspicious.

His fingers drummed against the table as he stared at the timestamped message Aarav had received on his encrypted line — the one that required a long-forgotten password only a handful of people once had.

He had narrowed it down to three.

And one of them was still within reach.

By morning, Rehan had made up his mind.

He asked Naira to meet him in the greenhouse at the edge of the property — a place Mira used to go for peace, but which now served as neutral ground for hard conversations.

She arrived dressed in a soft cardigan and jeans, hair tied up casually. She smiled. "You said it was urgent?"

Rehan kept his hands in his pockets. "You've been with us a long time. Even before Mira, even before the investigation."

She nodded. "You know that."

"So I need to ask," he said carefully, "have you used the backline account recently? Aarav's old secure email."

Naira frowned slightly. "No. That account's been dead for years, hasn't it?"

"That's what I thought," Rehan said, watching her closely.

A beat passed.

Then she smiled again. "Why? Did someone get in?"

Rehan didn't answer.

He stepped forward, pulling out a small flash drive from his pocket. "This was used to send information. Same model you handled last month — when you said you were updating Mira's medical data."

Naira's smile faltered for a second — not enough for most to notice.

But Rehan noticed.

She folded her arms. "Are you accusing me?"

"No," he said flatly. "I'm watching. That's different."

Her expression tightened. "Aarav trusts me."

Rehan nodded. "He used to trust a lot of people."

And then he walked away, leaving the unspoken accusation floating in the air.

Back inside, Rehan dug deeper. He called Imran, Aarav's tech contact in the city.

"I need to know something," Rehan said. "Who last accessed the backup router from the safe house?"

Imran hesitated. "I haven't logged in for weeks… but the last ping came from the property. Day before Mira was taken."

Rehan's pulse spiked. "Device ID?"

Imran checked. "Burner phone. IP masked. But here's something weird — it used the same WiFi network Mira's cane tracker connects to."

Rehan froze. "So the person was in the house."

"Yes."

"Can you trace the device again if it pings?"

"Trying. But they're good. Real good."

Rehan hung up and stared out the window.

They were running out of time.

That evening, he checked Mira's old walking cane — the one she left behind when they upgraded to a new model with a GPS chip. At first glance, it looked untouched.

But inside the handle, where no one ever looked?

A second tracker, embedded in the hollow grip.

"Son of a…" Rehan breathed.

It was transmitting.

Quietly.

Steadily.

Someone had marked Mira like prey.

And that someone had been inside the house the whole time.

Just as he turned to return to the others, a faint sound came from the hallway — a floorboard creaking.

Rehan paused.

But when he checked, the corridor was empty.

Too empty.

In the shadows behind the house, a figure watched Rehan silently. The flash drive was gone now. The evidence had been moved. The mask was still in place.

And the plan was accelerating.

Because Rehan was getting close.

Too close.