Aruna had never believed in coincidence.
He believed in patterns.
And that night, as he sat alone inside his car parked across from the laboratory building, he could see the pattern becoming clearer.
The light on the third floor was still on.
Even though it was past eleven.
The laboratory was supposed to close at nine.
Arun turned off the engine, but he didn’t turn off the interior light. He let his fingers tap lightly against the steering wheel, a slow, steady rhythm that mirrored the way his mind worked—measured, patient, relentless.
Someone was inside.
Someone who wasn’t supposed to be there.
He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving the rectangular window glowing faintly in the darkness. From this distance, he couldn’t see movement. But the light alone was enough.
Peopl
