Chapter 3: The Shadow Behind the Library

The morning fog hung low over the streets of Patna, swallowing the early sunlight in a pale, gray mist. It was exactly 6:45 AM. Mona stood in front of her mirror, her reflection showing pale cheeks and faint dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't slept a single wink. The mysterious torn piece of brown paper sat on her desk, its threatening words permanently burned into her memory.

“Meet me behind the old library building tomorrow morning at 7:00 AM...”

Her hands shook slightly as she pulled on her blue coaching uniform sweater. She couldn't tell her mother why she was leaving the house so early. She simply lied and said she needed extra time in the institute's self-study room before the morning lectures began. The look of pure trust in her mother’s eyes as she handed her a small tiffin box made the knot of guilt in Mona’s stomach tighten even more. She was walking into a trap, but she had no choice. She had to protect her secret deal with Professor Sharma. If her parents found out about her midnight sketches, the heartbreak on their faces would destroy her.

By 6:58 AM, Mona was standing at the edge of the coaching institute's campus, staring down the narrow, overgrown path that led behind the old library building. This part of the campus was rarely used. The library itself was a crumbling brick structure, its windows covered in decades of dust and cobwebs. The area behind it was dark, shaded by massive, ancient banyan trees whose roots twisted across the ground like sleeping snakes.

Mona swallowed hard, taking a slow, deep breath to steady her rapid breathing. She stepped onto the path, the dry leaves crushing loudly under her sneakers. Every small sound felt amplified in the eerie morning silence.

"Hello?" Mona called out, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "Is anyone here?"

No one answered. The cold wind rustled through the banyan leaves, sending a chill straight down her spine. She checked her watch. 7:01 AM.

"If this is a joke, it's not funny," she said, raising her voice slightly, trying to sound brave even though her knees were trembling. "I came alone, just like you asked. Show yourself."

For a few agonizing seconds, there was only silence. Then, from the deep shadows behind a thick concrete pillar of the library, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed.

Mona froze, her heart leaping into her throat.

A figure stepped out of the darkness and into the dim morning light. He was wearing a dark hoodie, but as he pulled the hood back, Mona’s eyes widened in absolute shock.

It was Aman.

He was holding a familiar black object in his right hand—her secret sketchpad. But his usual bright, cheerful smile was completely gone, replaced by a cold, serious expression she had never seen on him before.

"Aman?" Mona breathed, her mind spinning in confusion. "You? But... how? Why did you write that note?"

Aman looked down at the sketchpad, gently tracing the cover with his fingers before looking back up at her. "I didn't want to do it this way, Mona. But you wouldn't tell me the truth yesterday outside the staff room. You looked terrified, and when I saw you walk out without your pad, I knew something was wrong."

"So you spied on me?" Mona’s voice rose, a mix of anger and betrayal flashing through her. "You listened to my private conversation with Sharma sir?"

"I didn't have to spy," Aman said quietly, taking a step closer. "I was waiting by the open window near the corridor to make sure you were okay. The windows in the old staff room don't close properly, Mona. I heard every single word. I heard about the weekly five percent score increase, the secret Saturday painting sessions, and the threat to call your dad."

Mona felt all the air leave her lungs. "Aman, please... you can't tell anyone. If my parents find out—"

"I’m not going to tell your parents," Aman interrupted, his voice softening slightly, though his eyes remained intense. "Do you really think so poorly of me? I've known you for years. I know how much your parents' happiness means to you. But I also know how much you love your art. That's why I took your backup sketchpad from your locker yesterday afternoon before the supervisor locked the rooms."

Mona frowned, completely bewildered. "Then why the threatening note? Why tell me to meet you here in secret if you're not blackmailing me?"

Aman stopped just a few feet away from her. He held out the black sketchpad, offering it back to her. "Because I needed to get your attention away from the crowded corridors. And because Professor Sharma isn't the only one who can make a deal with you, Mona."

Mona slowly reached out and took her sketchpad back, holding it against her chest like a shield. "What do you mean?"

Aman took a deep breath, his serious expression finally cracking into a small, familiar smile, though it was filled with worry. "Mona, you are brilliant at biology and you can memorize complex chemistry structures with logical patterns, but your physics is a disaster. You know it, Sharma sir knows it, and I know it. There is no way you can raise your overall mock test scores by five percent every single week on your own. Not with the amount of stress you're carrying."

He pointed to himself. "I am the top scorer in physics and chemistry in my batch. My deal is simple: I will tutor you every evening after classes. I will teach you how to break down the hardest rotational motion and thermodynamics problems into simple steps. In return, you don't give up on your art. You clear Sharma sir's conditions, you get your premium acrylic paints on Saturdays, and you keep your promise to your parents."

Mona stared at him, completely stunned. The heavy cloud of fear that had been suffocating her since last night suddenly vanished, replaced by a sudden wave of relief so strong she felt dizzy. "You... you want to help me? That's it? No catch?"

"No catch," Aman chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, looking more like his usual helpful self. "Well, maybe one tiny condition. When you become a famous artist in the future, you have to give me your first official canvas painting for free. Deal?"

Amon's genuine kindness brought a sudden rush of tears to Mona's eyes. In a world full of cutthroat competition, high scores, and suffocating expectations, having someone stand by her side felt like a miracle.

"Deal," Mona smiled, wiping a tear from her cheek.

But just as the tension between them melted away, a sharp, loud crack echoed from the heavy bushes right behind the banyan tree.

Both Mona and Aman snapped their heads around toward the sound. The thick leaves were still vibrating, as if someone had just hurriedly pushed through them to run away.

Someone else had been hiding in the shadows. Someone else had just heard Aman confess that he knew about the secret deal with Professor Sharma.

Mona’s heart dropped like a stone into her stomach. If whoever was hiding in the bushes went straight to the director or her parents, both her dreams and Professor Sharma's career would be ruined before the weekend even arrived.

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