The night didn’t arrive all at once. It didn’t fall like a curtain or announce itself with darkness. It seeped in slowly, almost politely—through the windows, through the narrow cracks of the city, through the thin defenses Aryan had built inside himself. It slid along walls and corners, dimmed the edges of objects, softened outlines, until everything felt less defined. He stood where he was for a long time after placing the envelope back on the table, unmoving, as if even the smallest shift of his weight would make the truth louder, sharper, impossible to ignore. The air felt dense, heavy with something unspoken. The room felt smaller now, not because the walls had moved closer, but because the space inside him had begun to divide. There was the man who had believed in control—absolute, c
