The auto finally stopped in front of a modest building in a middle-class locality of Mumbai. The building looked old but clean. Minakshi paid the driver and they climbed the stairs to the second floor with tired legs.

Harikesh Yadav, a 68-year-old man with a tired face and deep stress lines on his forehead, opened the door. He was Gajadhar’s old friend.

“Andar aao… jaldi andar aao.”

( Come inside… quickly come inside.)

He looked nervously left and right in the corridor before locking the door behind them.

The house was small but felt like a blessing after everything we had run from. As I entered, I saw a simple hall with a worn-out sofa. On the left was a tiny kitchen. There were two small bedrooms and two bathrooms. Nothing fancy, but it was ours for now — a sweet little shelter in this scary city.

We kept our bags down. Mihir and Mansi were so exhausted that they just lay down on the bed and fell asleep as soon as the fan started spinning above them.

But then Harikesh Dada ji called Maa outside on the balcony. I quietly followed behind them. They didn’t notice me standing near the door.

“Minakshi… Munna ko pata chal gaya hai ki Meera bhag gayi hai. Nandan bhi dar ke maare bhag gaya. Lekin Gajadhar… woh wahi tha.”

( Minakshi… Muna found out that Meera has run away. Nandan also fled out of fear. But Gajadhar… he was still there.)

He paused, his voice heavy.

“Munna ne unko maar dala. Ek padosi ne phone kiya tha. Muna bola hai ki woh Meera ko dhoondh ke rahega… kisi bhi kimat par.”

( Muna killed him. A neighbour called to inform. Muna said he will find Meera… at any cost.)

Minakshi covered her mouth, tears flowing down.

“Tum log tension mat lo. Yahan safe ho. Bas har mahine time pe kiraya de dena. Mumbai mein rehna thoda mehenga hai.”

(Don’t take tension. You are safe here. Just pay the rent on time every month. Living in Mumbai is a bit expensive.)

I felt like the ground had slipped from under my feet. Dada ji was dead. The same Dada ji who never cared much for us granddaughters, but still used to secretly buy me kachori and jalebi when I was small. He had saved us… and paid with his life.

I slid down the wall, crying silently. Maa came inside and saw me. She understood I had heard everything. She pulled me into her arms.

“Chup… chup Meera. Dada ji ki di hui zindagi ko barbaad mat karna. Hum sab theek ho jaayenge.”

( Shh… shh Meera. Don’t waste the life Dada ji has given us. We will all be fine.)

12:00 Midnight

I was lying beside Maa on the bed while Mihir and Mansi slept in the other room. Sleep was far away. My mind kept pulling me back to the past.

Flashback – Banaras (Few day's ago)

It was a normal morning. Kamna Aunty met Maa while she was going to the temple

“Minakshi, tere liye rishta laayi hoon. Mera devar Mukul. Achha ladka hai. Shaam ko milwa deti hoon.”

(Kamna Aunty: Minakshi, I’ve brought a marriage proposal for your daughter. My brother-in-law Mukul. He’s a good boy. Let’s meet in the evening.)

Maa had agreed.

By evening, everyone was sitting in the hall. Suddenly the door buzzed. Papa went out to open it.

Then came the sound of a loud slap.

Muna had come. He slapped Papa hard because he had taken 2 lakh rupees and never returned it. Not for the family — Papa had spent it all on other women. He had many affairs outside.

Muna and his men entered the house while beating Papa badly.

I was coming from the kitchen, holding a tea tray. I was wearing a pink and cream coloured saree. My long hair was open, and I had put on light makeup — not too much.

Muna’s eyes fell on me. He stopped beating Papa and stared.

Walking towards me

“Sale Nandan, yeh ladki kaun hai?”

(You bastard Nandan, who is this girl?)

“Meri beti hai bhai… chhodo mujhe. Uski shaadi ke liye hi paise maanga tha maine. De dunga…”

(She is my daughter, brother… leave me. I had taken the money for her marriage. I’ll return it…)

But Muna ignored him and moved towards me with dirty interest in his eyes.

( “Shaadi? Iski beti toh badi ho gayi hai na… Toh naam kya hai is pari ka?”)

(Marriage? Your daughter has grown up… So what is the name of this fairy?)

He extended his hand to touch my face.

End of Flashback...

I shivered and pressed closer to Maa. That was the first time Muna had seen me. And from that day, my nightmare truly began.

On the other hand

While Meera lay awake reliving her nightmares, Aviral Rana was sitting in the VIP corner of his own club, Midnight Eclipse. The lights were low, music loud, and the air thick with smoke and expensive perfume. He was nursing his third drink of the night, his mood darker than usual.

A woman in a tight red dress approached him confidently. She was a call girl, used to rich customers who paid well for one night.

Call Girl: “Sir… one thousand for one hour?”

(Call Girl: Sir… one thousand for one hour?)

Aviral slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes were cold, filled with disgust. He looked her up and down like she was filth.

“Do rupaye ki bhi shakal nahi hai sali. Tu free mein bhi nahi leti toh sahi rehti. Sale tum jaisi ko zinda kyun rakha hai… mar jaana chahiye tum jaison ko.”

(You don’t even have a face worth two rupees. Even if you did it for free, no one would want you. People like you should just die. Why are you even alive?)

The girl lowered her head. This wasn’t new. She had heard worse. Without saying anything, she turned and started walking away.

Jay, who was standing nearby, quietly followed her and took her towards one of the private rooms.

Aviral’s blood boiled. He slammed his glass down and walked behind them. He pushed the door open.

Inside, Jay was only handing money to the girl. Nothing else was happening.

Aviral let out a bitter laugh.“Kya hai yeh? Itne gire hue standards ho gaye hain tere? Ek sali randi ke saath…”

( What the hell is this? Have your standards fallen so low? With a bloody whore…)

Jay Said “Sir… main aapse baad mein baat karta hoon.”

( Sir… I’ll talk to you later.)

Jay looked at the girl gently.

“Vani, kitni baar kaha hai… yahan se jao. Aur agar paison ki zarurat ho toh mujhse bol lena ek baar. Okay?”

(Jay: Vani, how many times have I told you… leave this place. And if you need money, just tell me once. Okay?)

Vani’s eyes filled with tears. She clutched the money and ran out of the room without looking back.

Aviral stared at Jay with pure contempt.

“Sale… kitna bhi kuch kar lo, kichar kabhi sona nahi ban sakta.

(Bastard… no matter what you do, mud can never become gold.)

Jay: “Aur sona hamesha sona hi rehta hai, bhale hi aap usko kichar mein milaane ki koshish karein.”

(Jay: And gold always remains gold, even if you try to mix it with mud.)

Jay took a deep breath and continued.

“Woh ladki yeh sab sirf paiso ke liye kar rahi hai. Uski beti ke dil mein ched hai… operation ki zarurat hai. Pati mar gaya aur sasural walon ne ghar se nikaal diya. Padhi-likhi nahi thi… paiso ki kami usko yahan laayi hai.”

( That girl is doing all this only for money. Her daughter has a hole in her heart… she needs surgery. Her husband died and her in-laws threw her out. She isn’t educated… the lack of money brought her here.)

Aviral: “Jhooth… sali jhooth bolti hai.”

(Aviral: Lies… the bitch is lying.)

“Nahi sir. Usne jhooth nahi bola. Main uske saath ek raat kaat chuka hoon. Sab hone ke baad usne paise liye aur roti hui bhag gayi. Woh mai uska first customer tha… main uske peeche gaya tha soch ke kahin forcefully toh yeh sab nahi karwa rahe hai. Tab pata chala woh hospital gayi thi. Usne abhi tak sirf mere saath hi soya hai. Woh try karti hai mera ehsaan na le, lekin main aisa hone nahi dunga.”

(Jay: No sir. She wasn’t lying. I’ve spent one night with her. After everything, she took the money and ran away crying. I was her first customer… I followed her thinking maybe someone was forcing her. Then I found out she went to the hospital. Till now, she has only been with me. She tries not to take my help, but I won’t let her refuse.)

Aviral looked at Jay with pure disgust and anger.

“Chup kar behenchod. Call girl ke saath so gaya… Chii chii chii..itni tujhe padi hoti to tu sota nhi uske sath)

Aviral: Shut up, you sisterfucker. You slept with a call girl… Disgusting… disgusting…Shut the fuck up. .. if you actually cared that much, you wouldn't have slept with her.)

He walked out of the room, his hatred for love, for women, for weakness burning even stronger.

Mumbai – One Week Later

Seven days had passed since they arrived in this chaotic city. The small 2BHK felt slightly less alien now, but the fear remained constant.

Meera sat silently on the edge of the bed in her room, staring at the wall. Her long hair was tied in a simple braid, and she wore a faded light blue salwar suit. The cream dupatta that Aviral had taken was still missing — she had cried about it for two days before accepting it as her first loss in Mumbai.

She knew the truth.

Dada ji’s 1 lakh rupees would help them survive this month — rent, food, and basic needs. But what about next month? And the month after that?

Maa has started doing silai-kaam (tailoring) for neighbours, but it’s barely bringing in enough money. Mihir and Mansi need school soon. We need food. We need safety. In Banaras, everything was near — the market, the temple, even the danger. But here in Mumbai… everything feels so far, so big, so terrifying.

I have to earn. I must earn. But how? I’m only 18. I’ve studied till 10th only. Who will give me a job?

My eyes fell on Anuja Aunty — Harikesh Dada ji’s daughter. She was a confident woman in her late 30s who worked in a boutique nearby. She always looked neat and spoke politely.

I gathered whatever courage I had left and went to her.

Anuja was folding clothes in the hall when Meera approached hesitantly.

Meera voice softly, eyes lowered

“Anuja Aunty… aap mujhe ek job dhoondhne mein madad kar sakti hain? Kuch bhi… ghar ka kaam, boutique mein, ya kahin bhi. Main bahut mehnat karungi. Bas… humein kuch paise chahiye.”

(Anuja Aunty… can you help me find a job? Anything… household work, boutique, or anywhere. I’ll work very hard. We just… need some money.)

Anuja looked at the scared, innocent girl and sighed. She could see the desperation in Meera’s big doe-like eyes.

“Beta, Mumbai mein ladkiyon ke liye job dhoondhna itna aasaan nahi hai. Bahut khatra hai. Lekin… mera ek dost hai jo ek badi si club aur restaurant chain chalata hai. Woh kabhi-kabhi staff dhoondta rehta hai. Waitress ya helper ke liye. Par wahan raat ko kaam hota hai… safe nahi lagta.”

( Child, finding a job for girls in Mumbai is not that easy. There’s a lot of risk. But… I have a friend who runs a big club and restaurant chain. He sometimes looks for staff. Waitress or helper. But the work is at night… it doesn’t feel safe.)

Meera’s hands tightened on her dupatta (the spare one she had). The word “club” made her stomach twist with fear. But the thought of her mother’s tired eyes and her siblings’ empty plates was stronger.

Meera whispering “Aunty… agar aap kuch bhi arrange kar sakti hain toh bataiye. Main… main bahut dar rahi hoon, lekin ghar chalana toh padega na?”

(Aunty… if you can arrange anything, please tell me. I’m… I’m very scared, but I have to run the house, right?)

Anuja hesitated, then nodded slowly.

“Theek hai. Main aaj usse baat karti hoon. Par Meera… wahan bahut bade-bade log aate hain. Apna khayal rakhna. Aur kabhi akeli mat jaana.”

( Okay. I’ll talk to him today. But Meera… big people come there. Take care of yourself. And never go alone.)

That Evening

Anuja came back with a small chit of paper.

Club ka naam hai Midnight Eclipse. Manager se milna — Jay. Unhone kaha hai interview ke liye aa sakti hai

(The club’s name is Midnight Eclipse. Meet the manager — Jay. He said you can come for the interview.)

Meera clutched the paper tightly, her heart beating fast with both hope and dread.

She had no idea that the man who had snatched her dupatta in the traffic… was the same man who owned that club.

The neon lights of Midnight Eclipse glowed aggressively against the evening sky. Meera’s heart hammered as she and Anuja Aunty entered through the side staff entrance. The thumping music and smell of alcohol and perfume made her feel dizzy. She clutched the edge of her simple dupatta tightly, eyes wide with nervousness.

Jay was waiting near the backstage area, checking some papers. But before he could reach them, a 57-year-old man standing near the bar noticed Meera.

Shekhawat Rana — Aviral’s Chacha. Married for thirty years, with a daughter Shikha exactly Meera’s age. Yet his eyes darkened with open lust the moment they landed on the innocent, frightened girl in the salwar suit.

He started moving towards her with slow, predatory steps, a dirty smile forming on his wrinkled face.

Luckily, Anuja and Jay reached Meera first, blocking Shekhawat’s path. Jay quickly guided both women to a quieter corner backstage.

Anuja: “Meera… unke paas job toh hai, beta. Lekin…”

(Meera… they do have a job, child. But…)

Meera was worried “Lekin? Kya hua Aunty? Kya unhone mujhe hire nahi karna kyuki main zyada padhi-likhi nahi hoon?”

Meera: But? What happened Aunty? Are they not hiring me because I’m not well educated?

Anuja looked uncomfortable. Jay stepped forward, his expression serious but kind.

Jay: “Nahi Meera. Education yahan kai jagah matter nahi karti. Problem yeh hai ki abhi sirf ek position khali hai — Bar Dancer ki.”

Jay: No Meera. Education doesn’t matter much here in some places. The problem is that the only position available right now is for a Bar Dancer.

Meera’s face went pale.

“Bar Dancer? Woh kya karti hai? Sirf dance toh karna hota hai na? Main Kathak jaanti hoon. Bahut achhe se…

(Bar Dancer? What do they do? It’s just dancing, right? I know Kathak. Very well…)

Jay took a deep, tired breath. He looked at her innocent face and felt pity.

“Ek baar dekh lo kaisa kaam hai. Phir decide karna.”

Have a look at what the work is like. Then decide.

He pushed open the backstage curtain slightly. The stage came into view — girls dancing sensually on poles and the floor in tiny, revealing dresses. Bright lights, catcalls from drunk men, and heavy makeup. Everything looked vulgar and dangerous to Meera’s eyes.

Meera’s breath hitched. She stumbled back immediately.

“Nahi…! Nahi… main nahi kar sakti yeh…”

(No…! No… I can’t do this…)

Tears filled her eyes instantly. The fear she had carried from Banaras came rushing back. Without saying another word, she turned and ran towards the exit, sobbing quietly.

Anuja quickly followed her.

“Meera! Beta ruk toh…”

Meera! Child, wait…

Outside the Club

Meera stood on the roadside, crying. The loud Mumbai traffic felt less scary than what she had just seen inside.

Meera whispering between sobs “Maa ko kya bataungi… hum kya karenge ab?”

( What will I tell Maa… what will we do now?)

She had no idea that Shekhawat Rana was still watching her from the club entrance with dark interest.

Nor did she know that Aviral Rana — the real owner — was sitting in his private office on the upper floor, reviewing CCTV footage… and had just caught a glimpse of the girl in the simple salwar suit running out.

The same girl whose cream dupatta still lay in his drawer.

Meera stood under a dimly lit streetlight, tears streaming down her face. The loud music from the club still echoed in her ears. She felt dirty just from having seen that stage.

Anuja Aunty came running after her, breathing heavily. She placed a gentle hand on Meera’s shoulder.

Anuja: “Meera… ro mat beta. Suno… mere paas tere liye ek aur kaam hai.”

Anuja: (Meera… don’t cry, child. Listen… I have another work for you.)

Meera wiped her tears with her dupatta and looked up with hopeful but scared eyes.

Anuja: “Tujhe kuch karne ki zarurat nahi hai. Bas baat karni hai… phone pe. Call Girl wala kaam, lekin bilkul vulgar nahi. Tu un lonely logon se baat karegi jo dost nahi rakhte. Unhe sirf baat karni hoti hai… unki tanhai door karne ke liye.”

Anuja: You don’t have to do anything physical. Just talk on the phone. It’s a call girl job, but not vulgar. You’ll talk to lonely people who don’t have friends. They just want someone to talk to… to remove their loneliness.

Anuja: “Yahan 20 ladkiyan already kaam kar rahi hain. Yeh sab secret hai, okay? Koi real naam nahi, koi milna nahi. Agar kuch galat lage toh call cut kar dena. Aur kamai bahut achhi hai…”

Anuja: Twenty girls are already working here. This is all secret, okay? No real names, no meetings. If anything feels wrong, you can cut the call. And the earning is really good…

Anuja paused, then sighed and told the truth.

Anuja: “Main khud pehle worker thi… ab main owner hoon. Isiliye humara apna ghar hai aur woh 2BHK bhi humara hi hai jo humne tum logon ko rent pe diya.”

Anuja: I was a worker myself earlier… now I’m the owner. That’s why we have our own house and that 2BHK which we rented to you.

Meera’s eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her hands started trembling.

Meera whispering “Aunty… yeh bhi… galat kaam hi toh hai na? Main… main aisa nahi kar sakti…”

(Aunty… this is also wrong work, right? I… I can’t do this…)

Anuja: “Soch le Meera. Ghar chalane ke liye kuch toh karna padega. Maa akeli silai se kya sambhalegi? Mihir-Mansi ki padhai, khana… Mumbai mein sab mehenga hai.”

(Anuja: Think about it, Meera. You have to do something to run the house. How much can your mother manage with just stitching? Mihir and Mansi’s education, food… everything is expensive in Mumbai.)

Just then, an auto-rickshaw stopped near them. Anuja gently pulled Meera’s hand.

Anuja: “Chal, baith. Ghar chalte hain. Raste mein aur baat karte hain.”

(Anuja: Come, sit. Let’s go home. We’ll talk on the way.)

Both of them sat in the auto. Meera kept looking down at her hands, her mind filled with confusion, fear, and helplessness. The auto started moving through the crowded Mumbai streets.

Meera’s innocent world was slowly being pushed into darkness… and she didn’t know how to stop

The auto stopped outside their building. Meera and Anuja climbed the stairs in silence. The weight of the day pressed heavily on Meera’s shoulders. As soon as they entered the house, she went straight to the corner of the small room, sat on the floor, and hugged her knees to her chest.

Minakshi watched her daughter with worried eyes but said nothing. She knew Meera needed space to think.

After a long time, Meera finally whispered to herself, her voice barely audible, “Main earn karungi. Independent banungi. Apni family ko sambha lungi. Maa ko aur chhote bhai-behen ko kisi ke saamne haath nahi failana padega.”

("I will stand on my own two feet. I will become independent. I will take care of my family. My mother and younger siblings won't have to hold out their hands to anyone.")

She took a deep breath, picked up the phone Anuja had given her, and dialed the number with trembling fingers.

When Anuja answered, Meera said softly, “Aunty… main ready hoon. Main yeh kaam karungi.”

("Aunty… I’m ready. I’ll do this job.")

Just minutes after Meera’s call ended, Anuja’s phone rang again. An unknown number.

She picked up, confused.

The man on the other side introduced himself confidently. “Hello Anuja, mera naam Shekhawat Rana hai. Rana Industries ka owner. Mujhe aapse milna hai. Bahut accha deal hai.”

Anuja frowned. “Deal? Kis baare mein? Main koi company nahi chalati.”

(A deal? About what? I don't run a company.)

“Paise ki baat hai,” he replied with a low chuckle. “Bahut saare paise.”

("It's about money," he replied with a low chuckle. "A lot of money.")

A strange doubt entered Anuja’s mind. Did he know about the kind of work she did? After a moment of hesitation, she changed her clothes and left to meet him at a nearby upscale café.

At the café, Shekhawat Rana was waiting in a private corner. The moment Anuja sat down, he came straight to the point.

“Kal club ke bahar jo ladki aapke saath thi… usko main ek raat ke liye chahta hoon.”

(The girl who was with you outside the club yesterday... I want her for one night.)

Anuja’s blood boiled. She stood up immediately. “Shut up! Main ladkiyan nahi bechti!”

("Shut up! I don't sell girls!")

She turned to leave when his voice stopped her.

“Five lakh.”

Her steps slowed.

“Ten lakh.”

She walked even slower.

“Twenty-five lakh.”

Anuja stopped completely.

“30 lakh,” he said calmly. “For one night only.”

Anuja turned around slowly. Greed had begun to cloud her mind. Fifty lakh was an unimaginable amount.

“30 lakh… sirf ek raat ke liye?” she asked, her voice low.

("30 lakhs... for just one night?" she asked, her voice low.)

“Yes,” Shekhawat replied with a dark smile. “Aur agar main bore nahi hu toh aur raatein… aur zyada paise. Ab jawab do?”

(And if I don't get bored, then more nights... and more money. Now, give me an answer.)

Anuja’s thoughts raced. Meera ke liye itne paise…

Shekhawat’s eyes gleamed as he caught the name.

“Ooo… toh uska naam Meera hai,” he murmured, almost to himself.

The deal was done.

Anuja returned home late that night, her mind swirling with numbers she had never imagined in her life. 30 lakh rupees for one night. The greed had completely swallowed her hesitation. She had shaken hands with Shekhawat Rana and sealed Meera’s fate without a single word of protest from the girl herself.

To be continue..