Whisper in the dark

Chapter 17

The weight of the photograph lingered heavily between Ananya and Raghav. They sat in silence in Raghav’s office, the glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. Arun Malhotra, the notorious businessman whose face stared back at them from the aged photograph, had once held immense power in the city. His involvement in the hotel’s construction was unsettling, to say the least. It raised more questions than answers—questions that neither Ananya nor Raghav were prepared for.

Raghav's fingers tightened around the photograph, his eyes filled with a mix of shock and confusion. "I knew my family had ties to influential people, but this..." His voice trailed off as he tried to process the implications.

Ananya leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "This changes everything, Raghav. If Arun Malhotra was involved in the hotel’s construction, we’re dealing with more than just financial corruption. There’s something darker here."

Raghav nodded slowly, still staring at the photograph. "My family was always secretive about the hotel's early days. I thought it was just about keeping up appearances, maintaining a prestigious reputation. But now…"

He paused, his jaw tightening. "If my family is connected to Malhotra in any way, this isn’t just about the hotel’s history—it’s about my family’s legacy."

Ananya reached for the old letter they had found with the photograph. The paper was brittle, and the handwriting elegant yet hurried, as if the writer had been anxious to get their thoughts down before it was too late. She scanned through it again, her heart racing as she pieced together the cryptic lines.

"It talks about unfinished business," Ananya muttered, more to herself than to Raghav. "And a hidden room…"

Raghav’s head snapped up. "A hidden room?"

Ananya nodded. "The letter mentions a room where secrets were kept. It says Malhotra was determined to bury certain truths, but he feared they might be uncovered one day. I think we need to find that room, Raghav."

Raghav stood abruptly, his face hardening with determination. "If there’s a hidden room in this hotel, we’re going to find it. We need to know what’s in there—and what it means for both of us."

As they left the office and made their way down the dimly lit hallways of the hotel, the atmosphere felt heavier than before. The air was thick with anticipation, as if the building itself knew that its darkest secrets were about to be unearthed.

Raghav led Ananya to a section of the hotel that hadn’t been in regular use for years—an older wing that had been closed off to guests under the pretense of renovations. It was quiet, almost unnervingly so. The once grand hallways were lined with dust-covered furniture, and the faded wallpaper gave the impression of a time long forgotten.

"This part of the hotel was built during the initial construction," Raghav explained, his voice echoing in the empty space. "It was one of the first wings completed. If there’s a hidden room, it would be here."

They moved cautiously, their footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust that had settled on the floor. As they reached the end of the corridor, Raghav stopped in front of a large, ornately carved door. It was different from the others—older, and more elaborately designed, as though it had once led to something important.

Raghav hesitated before reaching for the door handle. "This door hasn’t been opened in years. My father always said it was part of the original structure, but he never explained what was behind it."

With a slow creak, the door swung open, revealing a dark, narrow passageway. The air was musty, filled with the scent of age and abandonment. They exchanged a glance before stepping inside.

The passageway led them deeper into the hotel’s underbelly, the walls closing in on them as the space narrowed. It felt claustrophobic, and the further they went, the colder the air became. Finally, they reached another door—this one much smaller and more unassuming. It was locked.

Raghav frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "There must be a key…"

Ananya suddenly remembered the key they had found earlier, the one that had led them to this point. She pulled it out from her bag, holding it up for Raghav to see. "Do you think this might work?"

Raghav took the key, his hands steady despite the tension in the air. With a click, the door unlocked.

The room they stepped into was nothing like they expected. It was small, almost cramped, but it was filled with old furniture, boxes, and what seemed to be filing cabinets stacked against the walls. It looked like an office, though one that had been abandoned long ago.

Ananya's heart raced as she began to look around, her eyes scanning the room for anything that might give them more answers. And then she saw it—a box hidden beneath an old desk, covered in dust but still intact.

She crouched down and opened it, her breath catching in her throat as she pulled out a bundle of papers. Her hands shook as she flipped through them, realizing what they were.

"These are records," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Detailed records of financial transactions—bribes, payoffs, everything Malhotra was involved in. This is evidence of the corruption he was hiding."

But that wasn’t all.

As she reached the bottom of the box, she found something else—photographs. Dozens of them, each one depicting a different scene, but they all had one thing in common: they were taken inside the hotel. And in some of them, people were lying on the ground, lifeless.

Raghav moved beside her, his face pale as he looked at the photos. "These are…"

"Murders," Ananya finished, her voice trembling. "These people were killed in the hotel. And someone took pictures of it."

The implications were horrifying. The hotel wasn’t just a place of corruption—it had been the site of multiple murders, and someone had kept detailed records of it all.

As they stood there, trying to comprehend the enormity of what they had just uncovered, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Someone was coming.

Raghav’s expression darkened. "We need to get out of here."

Ananya nodded, quickly gathering the papers and photographs. But as they moved to leave, Raghav’s eyes fell on something else—an old journal lying on the desk, its pages worn and yellowed with age.

He picked it up, flipping through it. It was a personal diary—Malhotra’s, from the looks of it. And as Raghav read the final entry, his face drained of color.

"My God," he whispered. "It’s not just my family’s hotel. It’s my family’s legacy. We’re responsible for this."

Ananya felt a chill run down her spine. The truth was finally coming to light, but with it came the realization that they were now part of something much larger—and far more dangerous—than they had ever imagined.

As they hurried back through the dark passageway, the knowledge of what they had found weighed heavily on their shoulders. But they knew one thing for certain: whoever was behind this wasn’t done with them yet.