Everyone laughed. He died in a lab fire. Accident, the police said.
When they flickered back, Anupama was not alone.
The screen went black. Then, in faint letters: "Next episode: The Second Copy."
Three hours earlier, she had received a message: "Adhyarathri. Sigma Point. Come alone."
The hum grew louder. The walls began to bleed light.
The sender: her deceased father.
Outside, the rain stopped. The lamppost died. And somewhere deep in the tea estate, a clock struck twelve—but kept striking. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.