Still trembling with fear, Puja cautiously steps out of the room, keeping herself close to Detective Singh. As they move through the hotel, she sees several men in suits being led away in handcuffs by other officers. The oldman is nowhere to be seen.

Eventually, they reach the lobby and Puja spots her would-be rescuer from earlier: a tall, dark-haired man sitting astride a powerful motorcycle.

"That's him!" she exclaims, pointing at the man as he speeds off through the hotel doors. Detective Singh turns to her with a raised eyebrow, clearly surprised by her outburst. "He was here earlier," she explains shakily. "He warned me about the oldman... He saved my life!"

The detective nods understandingly and gestures for one of his officers to radio for backup while he turns back toward the hotel doors, shouting after the fleeing man.

"I-I don't know...maybe I could earn some money here, somehow," she says hesitantly. "There must be something I can do..." Her voice trails off, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She's terrified of being alone and helpless again, but the thought of depending on Krish is equally daunting.

Krish looks at her for a long moment before speaking. "Alright," he says gently.

"Of course," she says quickly, surprised by his offer but grateful beyond words. "I'd be honored to take care of your sister while you're gone. And I could help around the house too...really, I'd be happy just to have a place to stay."

A small smile tugs at Krish's lips as he studies her face. He nods, satisfied with her answer. "Alright then," he says with a sigh of relief. "Let's go find you something to eat and get you settled in."

The moment I screamed, Uncle's hold on me tightened painfully. He clapped a hand over my mouth, muffling my cries.

"You silly little fool," he growled into my ear, his hot breath making me gag. "No one's coming to save you. Now be a good girl and come quietly."

As he dragged me towards the platform exit, I struggled wildly, kicking and clawing at his arms. But he was too strong, and soon we were pushing through the crowd, heading deeper into the heart of the city.

"No...please..." *

"What are you doing?"

My voice trembled as I stared at the old man's face. He had turned to look directly at me, his eyes blazing with something dark and malicious.

"You think you can just walk away from this? Leave me here? You're crazy! What if someone finds you? Or what if the authorities get involved? Don't you see how dangerous this is?"

He glared at me through those piercing black eyes, his lips curling into a foul smile. "

She looks at him for a moment, considering his question. There was a time when she would have scoffed at his words—when she couldn't imagine anything more terrifying than being alone in the world. But now...now that she knows what it's like to be trapped and helpless, she realizes just how precious life really is.

"No," she admits quietly as the jeep speeds toward safety and freedom. "I believe you."

As you remove your disguise, Puja can't help but stare at you in surprise. She had no idea that the officer who rescued her was not much older than herself. "You... you weren't wearing a costume?" she asks hesitantly.

"No," you reply with a smile. "I am just another officer, trying to protect people like you." You hand her the water bottle and gesture for her to take a drink;

"My name is Puja," she says softly, taking a sip of water. "And I... I met that old man at the temple fair last week. He told me he could give me a good job in the city, and that I would make lots of money." She looks downcast, her shoulders slumping. "I didn't realize it was all a lie until today, when you stopped me from going with him."

You nod understandingly. "It's not your fault, Puja," you tell her gently. "

Her heart races as she listens to the men talking amongst themselves, their voices harsh and foreign to her ears. She tries to focus on breathing slowly, evenly, but it's hard when every instinct is screaming at her to run, to find someplace safe. The two women beside her seem reassuring in their civil uniforms, but she can't help but feel like they might be just as much a threat as the men who brought her here.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she watches the men gather around, their voices low and intense. She tries to listen to what they're saying but can barely make out any words; all she can focus on is the fear that coils tighter and tighter around her throat with each passing second.