Author POV

Darkness pooled in the corners of the small room, cut only by a single swinging bulb that threw a yellow halo over the walls. Every inch of visible space was claimed — photographs of Shaurya Rajvansh pinned, taped, and framed in obsessive repetition. Wedding-day portraits, candid shots, him in suits, him laughing, him with Arav on his lap; some pictures were fresh, some browned at the edges. A map with a few routes circled in red, a newspaper clipping about the engagement, and a dozen Post-its with dates and times completed the collage.