📖 Secrets of Silence

The shattered glass from the window still lay scattered across the floor. The wind rushed in, making the curtains sway violently. Alia shivered as she tried to steady herself, but Ayaan’s eyes still carried that same heavy fear.

“What is all this?” Alia demanded sharply.
“Why do you have Anwar’s file? And who is that man watching us?”

Ayaan didn’t reply. He closed the file on the table, picked it up, and said quietly,
“It’s not yet time to answer those questions.”

Alia snapped angrily,
“I’m a reporter. Finding the truth is my job. If you don’t tell me, I’ll uncover it myself!”

Ayaan’s gaze remained fixed on her. After a moment, he spoke,
“You want the truth? Then be ready. Truth is often like poison.”

With that, he opened a copy of the file and placed it in front of her.
The moment Alia saw the first page, the color drained from her face.

These weren’t Anwar’s business documents—
It was a black list.

Dozens of names were written there—famous figures of the city, politicians, businessmen, even police officers. Beside each name was a date and a short note:
“Incomplete work.”
“Threat.”
“Must be silenced.”

With a trembling voice, Alia whispered,
“This… this is a hit list!”

Ayaan nodded.
“Yes. Anwar wasn’t just a businessman. He was playing a game where human lives were cheaper than money.”

Explosions of realization went off in Alia’s mind.
“So Anwar’s death—was it because of this list? Did someone kill him to bury this secret?”

Suddenly, her eyes caught the last page of the file.
There, a new name was written—
“Alia Khan.”

Her heart stopped for a moment.
With shaking lips, she asked,
“Why… why is my name here?”

Ayaan’s gaze grew heavy.
“Because you came too close to Anwar’s secrets. Your name was added the day you published your first report against him.”

Alia’s knees almost gave way.
It felt as if the ground was slipping from beneath her feet.

“But… if Anwar wanted to kill me, then why did he die himself?” Her voice was weak.

Ayaan spoke slowly,
“Because someone else—a bigger player in this game—was watching everything. Anwar was only a pawn. And now… that enemy is after you.”

The air in the room grew heavier with dread.
Outside, the wind howled louder.

Gathering her courage, Alia said,
“I have to uncover this. This file could become the biggest story for my newspaper.”

Ayaan’s tone hardened,
“This isn’t a story. It’s a death warrant. If you publish it, your days will be numbered.”

Alia met his eyes firmly,
“I’m not someone who runs from fear.”

Just then, the door burst open.
Zaryab—Alia’s colleague and close friend—stepped inside.

“Alia! I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here?” His voice was anxious.

Alia quickly shut the file, but Ayaan’s piercing eyes were fixed on Zaryab.

“Who is he?” Ayaan asked coldly.

“He’s my friend. My fellow reporter,” Alia replied.

For a moment, Ayaan was silent, then said slowly,
“Friends aren’t always friends. Remember that.”

Zaryab frowned in confusion.
“Who is this man, Alia? And what are you doing in this deserted mansion?”

Instead of answering, Alia grabbed his hand and said,
“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll explain everything later.”

From behind, Ayaan’s voice echoed,
“What you’re seeing is only the shadow of the truth. The real story is still ahead.”

As soon as they stepped outside, the wind grew fiercer. Tree branches shook violently, as if someone had rattled them. Alia and Zaryab got into the car and left the mansion behind.

On the way, Zaryab asked,
“What was all that? Who was that man?”

Alia took a deep breath and replied,
“The very man everyone suspects. But my heart tells me he’s not the killer—he’s trapped in something much bigger.”

Zaryab looked at her in surprise.
“Do you trust him?”

Staring into the darkness outside the window, Alia said,
“I don’t know yet. But one thing is certain—this game has already pulled me into its depths.”

End of Chapter 3:

Far away, in the city’s main square, a man stood watching the two drive away.
In his hand was the same paper once found with Anwar.
On it, a single line was written:
“The next strike is near.”

The man smirked faintly—
and vanished into the shadows.