Episode 103

The ornate frame of the antique mirror in the Malhotra drawing-room seemed to warp the reflection of the woman staring into it. Natasha traced the delicate gold leafing, her fingers hesitant, as if expecting the glass to shatter and reveal a different face beneath. The "first clue," as Devansh had cautiously termed the faded photograph found tucked within a forgotten book, had done more than plant seeds of doubt; it had sown a disquieting unease that had taken root and was now blossoming into a full-blown crisis of identity. The woman in the photo, a stranger yet hauntingly familiar, bore a striking resemblance to her, especially around the eyes. But it was the insignia on the woman's lapel, a stylized eagle with outstretched wings, that had sent a shiver down Natasha’s spine. She had seen it before, she was sure of it, though she couldn’t place when or where.

Downstairs, in the hushed opulence of his study, Mr. Malhotra was engaged in a hushed conversation with his eldest son. The air crackled with a tension that bel