Alka Mall, 12:15 p.m.
Rohit stepped out of the cab, paid the driver, and tilted his head back to take in the towering glass façade of Alka Mall. This was his second visit in two weeks—third, if he counted the quick stop at the parking lot last Sunday.
For someone who had always avoided malls like a bad habit in his old memories, the place was starting to feel disturbingly familiar.
That was the problem. If someone who had known the old Rohit happened to see him now, they might begin to doubt everything about the person he had become.
He pushed through the revolving doors, the cool blast of air-conditioning hitting him like a slap. Without breaking stride, he pulled out his phone and dialed Akanksha again.
The phone rang once but was abruptly cut off.
A second later, his phone vibrated.
[Akanksha: Third floor. Zara showroom. Two bodyguards are following me everywhere. You can see me from a distance, but don't approach me directly.]
Rohit's lips twitched. 'Seriously?'
