His fist struck the wall. The impact echoed through the corridor. “Why won’t you open?”
Silence answered him. His breath came harsh as he pulled out his phone and called Devendra.
He arrived quickly. “Thakur Sa?”
“The underground chamber.” Abhinav stepped back. “It will not open.”
Devendra’s expression changed. “You know about this place?”
“Meera showed me once.” Impatience edged his voice. “Can you open it?”
Devendra stepped forward. His fingers found the stone with practiced ease. He pressed. Nothing. He frowned. Tried again. Nothing. The wall stood unmoving.
“It should open,” he murmured.
Abhinav ran a hand through his hair, forcing reason into the panic rising within him.
“It’s old stone. The mechanism must be jammed.”
Devendra did not respond. His eyes stayed on the wall.
Abhinav stepped back. “Forget it. If it does not open, she could not have gone inside.”
The logic felt obvious. Necessary. He needed it to be true.
Devendra remained where he stood. Unease settled across his face. In all his years at Anand Mahal, the hidden door had never failed.
Not for any Thakur. Not for any Thakurain. Not for him. Not even for Meera as a child pressing small hands against the stone under his watch.
The mechanism did not jam.
The thought settled cold within him.
His hands came together. No words left his mouth. Only a silent prayer offered desperately to Kul Devi.
‘Protect her. Please.’
Abhinav had already pulled out his phone again. His thumb moved through his contacts and stopped at Rajveer.
Not a friend. Not even close. A man he had just done business with. But Mewar royalty.
The call connected on the second ring.
“Abhinav,” Rajveer began, voice smooth, measured. “I trust…”
“Meera is missing.”
No preamble. No politeness.
“Two hours. Maybe more. Her phone is left behind. I need help.”
“Where was she last seen?” Rajveer sounded alert.
“Old wing of the Haveli. Yellow clothes.”
“The grounds?”
“Checked. Nothing.”
