Myra stared dumbfounded at Vishal, shocked at his words.

Here she was searching all day for a cover story in a library, flipping through old newspapers and articles but it never crossed her mind that the story would come searching for her.

If this news is true, assuming it is news and not some sick rumour, she couldn't think of a better story than this.

Of course it is a sensitive matter and using this story might have its cons, looking at how confidential the police will try to keep it. Many political and social issues will be raised if she decides to sail along the story's investigation.

But she didn't slog her ass in Columbia university for 3 years and studied investigative journalism to give up because of some social issues.

And neither would India stay calm when one of her daughters is robbed of her dignity.

"Yes." Myra mumbled after a long silence.

She looked at Vishal, her eyes held determination, "When do we start?"

***

Myra and Vishal stared from the safety of his car at the old building that had bold letters Police Station painted in english and in Hindi letters.

When Myra said 'when do we start' needless to say she didn't expect a local police station would be their first checkpoint.

She stole a quick glance at Vishal, his eyes were lost into oblivion but his jaw set tight. She couldn't say if he was lost in thoughts or angry, which was a shame because she was always so good at reading people's minds.

Except one. Her mind reminded her.

Myra pinched her nose bridge and got down from the car, Vishal soon followed her.

"I thought you said, the cops won't help the media?" She raised her doubt.

Vishal ran his fingers through his already perfectly set hair and sighed.

"Let's just hope that I'm wrong." He mumbled and walked towards the building.

Myra followed him, her eyes carefully watching and taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. As they walked closer the sounds of chaos grew louder.

Her eyes caught the scene where a couple of men in khaki uniform were thrashing few group of men. Beside the room, another couple of cops interrogating one man, trying to intimidate him surely, Myra observed.

They were all sorts of unsual people, crying women, scared men, and few women in colorful sarees who looked more bulkier than the cops themselves. They looked different, Myra thought to herself. They were quite touchy with the cops who looked done with them.

Are they prostitutes? Myra questioned to herself but shook away the thought ashamed to judge those women inspite of being a woman herself.

Her eyes focused back at the men who were thrashed mercilessly, their screams echoing into the busy corridors of the building.

The screams unsettled Myra in some way. She gulped pushing down the images that threatened to surface in her mind.

"SIR! SIR! PLEASE!" One of them yelled.

"Leave me, please!" A woman screeched.

"MYRA!" Vishal tapped on her shoulder pulling her out of her trance.

Myra jumped away from his touch but breathed out in relief once Vishal's face appeared through the dim street light.

Even though Vishal would never admit, her reaction scared him half to death. He cleared his throat, and manned up.

"I was calling you for so long! What are you looking at?" He asked.

Myra realized that she must have looked like a ghost, standing in the middle of the ground and staring at particularly nothing.

"Nothing. I-um. I'm sorry," She tucked her blond hair behind her reddened ears and walked past vishal, hoping he wouldn't drag the subject.

Vishal frowned behind her, mentally noting that she is very jumpy and to keep a minimum of 2 feet distance between them.

They soon went inside and vishal guided her through the building. He knew where to turn like it was mapped in his mind. It literally was, looking at the number of times he had been here.

They entered a room that had half door, like in an old sherif type movies. The room inside pretty much looked like it, built many decades ago.

Myra looked at the untouched documents stacked away in the cupboards since years and a fan above them swinging and revolving, doing its duty even before she was born. The eerie creaking of the fan and crickets from the thick trees beside the dusty window is only thing that can be heard.

Myra inched a bit closer to vishal unconsciously. She wanted to ask him so many questions. She wished he shared the plan he had in his mind with her, but it looks like Vishal isn't much of talker unlike the most men that she met.

The doors, or the half doors behind them were pushed open and a women in uniform, a bit younger than Myra came in.

Her eyes zoomed at Vishal, widening with excitement for a second before they fell on Myra.

"Nayaer." She addressed him with a half smile and looked confusedly between them. "Isn't this an unpleasant surprise?"

Myra felt Vishal shift beside her. Silence fell in this room again.

Vishal turned to Myra, "Myra, this is Yamini Dutta." Then he turned to Yamini.

"Yamini meet Myra Williams. She's a journalist from California."

The women shook their hands, sharing polite smiles.

As soon as the introductions were done, Vishal jumped right into the topic.

"Yamini, I need a favour."

Boy, does he hate small talk! Myra thought to herself.

Yamini leaned on the table and stared at Vishal for few seconds. Vishal didn't flinch at her piercing gaze and stared back.

She laughed out loud and turned to Myra, "You know? The last time this bastard asked me for a favour, I ended up waking up naked in his apartment."

Myra glanced at Vishal, whose ears were beet red. She had a hard time controlling her laughter at Vishal's expense. Flustered Vishal looked so babyish only difference is the beard.

"Yamini, this is serious!" Vishal snickered.

"Ha toh main kaha joke kar rahi thi? Sach hi toh hain!" [I wasn't joking around either, it's the truth!]

"Alright! About the favour..." He dragged indicating to change the topic.

And when he had her attention, "I want info on Dia Mhatre's case."

Yamini continued to dumb stare at him a couple more seconds before opening her mouth to say, "Nope. Can't be done."

"-But you're on the case!" He reasoned.

Yamini leaned on the table's edge and squinted her eyes pretending to think.

"Hm...Yes but the seventeen coffees that you promised are holding me back."

Vishal hung his head down smiling and looked up, "I promise we will have those seventeen coffees once I'm free."

Yamini rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Stop lying," She walked up to the large iron box similar to the one she had in her bedroom back in Haus khas. It was a cupboard, Myra realised.

Dutta took out a large file and placed on the table before them.

"I'm not lying- Bas bohoth busy tha."(I'm just very busy)" Vishal answered and they both continued to rant in Hindi.

Myra tuned out their voices and focussed on the file. It was bad enough she had to watch them flirt before her and now fight like couples in a totally foreign language.

Myra breathed out, shifting the papers. 'It's all for greater good' she reminded herself.

She took pictures of the file and attached them into a document. There was heavy information in this file, Myra could tell.

For next exact 5 minutes as she worked on the file, Yamini and Vishal continued to chat.

She stole a glance at Vishal in between the page turning wondering what they were talking. Lucky for her they were now conversing in English.

"Who's assigned incharge for this case?" Vishal asked Dutta.

Yamini smacked her lips softly taking a moment to answer, "Ishaan Malik."

Two words. Those two words made Vishal's face go pale and then to red in anger. He didn't speak next, he stared outside the window his eyes lost.

Myra was bit concerned but more curious. Who is that? She wondered.

And her answer soon walked in, in the form of a 25-ish lean and fit man in formals who had a aura like 'I'm respected here but I'm here for you.'

His pleasant smile turned into a frown when he saw Myra with the file in her hands and then to scowl when he saw Vishal beside Yamini.

He looked at Myra again, his eyes fixed on her for longer than she liked.

"What is he doing here?" That man asked still looking at Myra.

Myra avoided his gaze and carefully placed the file back on the table.

"We were just leaving." Vishal mumbled and walked past him towards Myra.

"Yamini, tell him that this isn't a bloody bar where he can walk in anytime he wants." The man looked at Yamini still avoiding to look at Vishal.

Yamini sighed in frustration, "Don't drag me into this, Ishaan." She said softly.

Myra understood that it was the same Ishaan they were talking about and it so explains why the room is suddenly so tense.

Ishaan scoffed, "Well, you should've thought about that before you dragged them in here."

"It's not her fault, I asked her to-" Vishal was cut off by Ishaan.

He sharply turned to Vishal, his eyes holding rage. "You shut up! I didn't ask you shit!"

Vishal's jaw ticked off, he took a step closer to Ishaan, his height relatively towering over him.

"My mouth has a mind of it's own."

Malik scoffed again, "Explains all the bullshittery you do in the name of journalism."

Vishal closed the gap and grabbed Ishaan's collar, his body raging with anger. His fist itched to connect to Malik's jaw. Malik didn't back down either, instead he stared right into his eyes with an angry scowl framing his symmetric face.

Yamini and Myra showed up beside the men on each other's sides. Gulping the uneasiness down Myra tried to hold his arm. Her sweaty hands failed to catch hold of his large bicep, her anxiety kicking in with the mere touch. When he wouldn't budge she gave up.

"Vishal. Let's go." She tried to talk to him.

"You don't teach me how to do my job," Vishal seethed.

"No. You do it perfectly fine by screwing people's lives." Ishaan seethed back.

Vishal pulled his arm back, curling his palm into a fist and reached for Ishaan's face.

Myra bunched Vishal's shirt into her palms and yelled "-Vishal please!"

He stopped right before his fist could connect Ishaan. Ishaan's face was unflinching but his eyes were now staring at Myra with curiosity.

Vishal stepped back and fumed out of the room. Myra's hand fell behind as he walked out of her grip. Myra glanced at Ishaan who still had the same unreadable stare. His aura now emitting totally different energy than when we walked in.

Myra walked out and strode towards their car. Vishal was already in, his eyes staring straight ahead, trying to calm his anger.

Myra silently got in and sat with her hands in her lap. Her mind still reeling back to how she held him back. She touched him, well not exactly skin to skin but-

"I'm sorry for what happened tonight." Vishal interrupted her thoughts. He was now totally in control of his emotions.

Myra turned to him, his sharp black eyes were already on her. Myra sucked in a deep breath and turned away.

"Which part?" She grumbled.

"I-um-" Vishal gulped and started again, "I'm not usually like this."

Like what? She wanted to ask.

Myra wanted to ask him more on whatever happened in there but she dropped the idea as she doesn't know him yet and it's none of her business.

"It's fine. We had a long day." She said softly.

Silence fell between them, their shallow breaths were audible in the closed car. Myra couldn't stop glancing at Vishal, she couldn't help but feel the need to understand what is going on in his head.

It was weird because she never cared about her co workers before. She wondered why the need to get to know him now.

Vishal glanced at his smart watch, which instinctively made her look at hers. Her analogue watch showed 8:05 PM.

Vishal revived engine and pulled the car back on the road. He pulled his phone out, dialled a contact named, Jethin and placed it on speaker.

"Ha Vishal? Kaam hua kya?"(Yes, Vishal? Is the work done?)

"Ha. I've got info. Myra and I are currently heading to Mhatre's house."

As soon as Vishal completed those sentences Myra snapped her head at him with confusion.

"Chal theek hai. Kal milthe hai." (Alright. See you tomorrow.)

"Is it ok to meet them now? What makes you so sure that they want to talk to us?" Myra fired questions once he hung up the call.

"I don't, but once the news is out every channel would want to talk with them. And once the media is involved, police will try to protect the case as tight as pack of wolves."

Vishal looked at her from the corner of his eyes. She had her thinking face, classic chewing lip and distant eyes.

"You'll be interviewing them, so better prep yourself." He advised softly.

On cue, Myra pulled out her notepad. She scribbled down some questions that she thought would be appropriate to ask the parents whose just found out that their 15 year old kidnappped daughter was being assaulted.

Myra sighed internally. It's going to be a very long night for her.

***

After so long I finally found some motivation and here it is! The 4th chapter.

It's gonna get real from next chapter. So hang tight.

Let me know your thoughts about this chapter.

Vote and comment!

~Aurora, ❤️.