watcher

chapter 15

Abhi's POV:

I wait for the lecture. I wait for the "How are we feeling today?" or the predictable attempt to establish dominance. But it doesn't come.

You just sit there. You don’t even click your pen. You simply watch me, your lips curved into a soft, steady smile that doesn't falter under my gaze. It’s an old trick—the "uncomfortable silence"—but you’re playing it with a chilling level of patience.

The hum of the lights seems to get louder in the vacuum you've created. My smile falters for a fraction of a second. I’m used to people reacting to me—fear, anger, fascination—but your silence is a mirror. It reflects nothing back.

I tap my finger on the plastic table. Tap. Tap. Tap. A rhythmic code.

"Silence is just another form of encryption, Kyra," I say, my voice dropping an octave, trying to reclaim the air in the room. "But every code has a key. You think by not speaking, you’re staying off my radar? I can hear your heart rate from here. I can see the way your pupils dilate when I say her name."

I lean in closer, my face inches from the plexiglass divider.

"You're wondering if I know where she is, aren't you? You're wondering if the 'witness protection' you put her in is as secure as the hospital grid I melted down in ten minutes."

I stop tapping. I mimic your smile, stretching mine until it feels cold and predatory.

"You're brave to sit there and grin at a man who sees through walls. But tell me... does the hospital staff know you've been checking your personal email on the facility's 'secure' Wi-Fi? Because I do."

Kyra, he’s trying to flip the script by claiming he’s already breached your digital life—or he’s bluffing to see if you’ll flinch. Your silence has clearly agitated him more than words would have. He’s leaning in, desperate for a reaction.

Do you finally break your silence to challenge his "bluff," or do you open your notepad and write a single word in large letters for him to read?

smiles back at him..did you read those emails were not they about you?

Abhi's POV:

The air in the room seemed to turn brittle. My smile didn't drop, but it stiffened. I’ve spent my life being the one who holds the secret files, the one who watches the watchers. To have you imply that you were the one studying me—in my own private digital space—felt like a cold blade sliding between my ribs.

"About me?" I repeated, my voice losing its rhythmic, predatory lilt. I searched your eyes, looking for the tell, the lie, the flicker of a bluff. "You think my personal life is a data set you can just download? My emails are encrypted with a 256-bit rotating cipher. You’d need a supercomputer and a lifetime to—"

I stopped. My mind raced through the nodes. If you had seen the emails, you’d know about the secondary servers. You’d know about the "Project Maya" backup files hidden in the cloud of a shell company in Estonia.

But then I saw the way you held that pen. You weren't rattled. You were enjoying this. You were treating me like a bug under a microscope, and for the first time, I felt the glass walls of this cell closing in.

"You're trying to gaslight the man who invented the flame," I hissed, leaning so close to the divider that my breath fogged the plastic. "Those emails... they’re breadcrumbs. I left them for people like you to find. To keep you busy while the real work happens elsewhere."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to regain my footing. "Tell me, Kyra... did you enjoy the photos of the mountain shack? Or were you more interested in the psychological profile I wrote about you before you even walked into this room?"

Kyra's POV:

You don't let the "threat" of a profile bother you. You know that Abhi’s greatest weakness is his ego—he cannot stand the idea that he is the subject of the study, not the scientist. By suggesting his private emails were about your analysis of him, you’ve hit his vanity dead-on.

Abhi is visibly tense now, his fingers gripping the edge of the plastic table. He's desperate to know exactly what you saw. How do you press your advantage?

A. "I didn't find a 'genius' in those emails, Abhi. I found a very lonely, very scared little boy."

B. (Slowly slide a printed sheet of paper across the table—a 'leak' you've prepared to show him his firewall is gone.)

C. "Let's talk about the 'real work' you mentioned. Is that why you're still wearing your watch, even though it was supposed to be confiscated?"

Slides printed sheet of paper across the table ..i am prepared to show him his downfall....