Meera adjusted her lawyer’s robe as she stepped out of the courtroom, the sound of her heels echoing through the corridor of the Delhi High Court. She had just won a high-profile case, but her mind was elsewhere. A name from the past had resurfaced unexpectedly—Anjali.
The last time she had seen Anjali was in school, nearly fifteen years ago. They had been inseparable, sharing lunchboxes, dreams, and even their biggest fears. But fate had pulled them apart after the twelfth grade. Meera had moved to Delhi for law school, and Anjali had stayed back in their small town of Dehradun, pursuing journalism. Life had gone on, but the bond they once shared had faded into memory.
That morning, while preparing for court, Meera had received a LinkedIn notification—a connection request from Anjali. Curious, she had accepted it immediately, and within minutes, a message had followed.
Anjali: "Meera, it's been so long! I just moved to Delhi for work. Would love to meet. Let me know when you're free."
Meera had smiled at the message but hadn't responded yet. She wasn’t sure why. Was it guilt for not keeping in touch? Or fear that too much had changed?
That evening, as she walked into her apartment, she found herself typing a reply.
Meera: "Anjali! It’s been forever. Let’s meet tomorrow at India Gate, 5 PM?"
The Meeting That Changed Everything
The next day, as Meera arrived at India Gate, she saw a woman sitting on a bench, nervously tapping her fingers on a notebook. Anjali.
"Still writing in a diary, I see?" Meera said with a smile.
Anjali looked up, her face unusually tense. "And you still talk like a lawyer!" She forced a smile, but Meera could sense something was wrong.
"Is everything okay?" Meera asked as they walked along Rajpath.
Anjali hesitated before speaking. "I moved to Delhi not just for work. I had to leave Dehradun because I uncovered something dangerous. I wrote an investigative report on an illegal land-grabbing operation, and ever since, I’ve been receiving threats."
Meera’s instincts kicked in. "Anjali, this is serious. Have you filed a complaint?"
Anjali shook her head. "I don’t have strong proof yet. If I go public without it, they’ll discredit me."
Meera took a deep breath. "Let me help. We’ll gather evidence legally. If this is as big as you say, we can take it to court."
The Chase Begins
Over the next few weeks, they worked together—Anjali uncovering leads, and Meera ensuring everything was legally sound. Late-night stakeouts, long strategy discussions, and the thrill of seeking justice brought them even closer.
One night, after a deep dive into the case, Anjali received an anonymous text:
"Drop the story, or you won’t live to see the next sunrise."
Meera clenched her fists. "That’s it. We’re going to the police."
Anjali hesitated. "We need more proof first. I think someone close to me is leaking my movements."
Meera’s blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"
"I’ve been careful, but they always seem to know where I am. Even this meeting—I didn’t tell anyone, but look at that black SUV parked across the street. It’s been following me for days."
Meera turned discreetly. The SUV had tinted windows, but the presence was unmistakable.
"We need to get out of here—now." Meera grabbed Anjali’s hand, and they quickly took an auto-rickshaw to her apartment.
The Betrayal
At Meera’s apartment, they spread out the documents and photographs Anjali had collected. The land mafia was bribing officials, forcing families out, and even involved in disappearances.
"We need a whistleblower," Meera muttered. "Someone from inside who will testify."
Anjali nodded. "I think I have one. My ex-colleague, Rohit, used to work with me in Dehradun. He left suddenly after I started this story. I just found out he moved to Delhi, too."
They arranged to meet Rohit the next evening at a quiet café. But just hours before their meeting, Anjali received a call.
"Anjali… they know about me. I can’t talk—" The line went dead.
Anjali’s hands shook as she turned to Meera. "They got to him."
The Final Showdown
Realizing they had no time to lose, they decided to go public with the evidence. Anjali arranged an exclusive news broadcast, and Meera prepped legal documents for immediate action.
But just as they were leaving for the studio, Meera’s phone rang.
"If you air that story, Anjali dies. Choose wisely, Counselor."
Meera froze. "How do they have your number?"
Anjali’s face paled. "I told you, someone close to me is leaking information."
Meera’s mind raced. Then it hit her. The only person Anjali had trusted fully was her old editor from Dehradun.
"Anjali, your editor. Have you ever questioned him?"
Anjali’s eyes widened. "No… but it makes sense. He was the one who first told me to drop the story."
Meera grabbed her laptop and began searching. Within minutes, she found an obscure company registry listing the editor’s name linked to a shell company owned by the land mafia.
"We have our proof," Meera whispered.
Anjali wasted no time. That night, the story aired, and the next morning, Delhi police raided multiple locations. The editor was arrested, and the land mafia’s operations were exposed. The black SUV disappeared from Anjali’s street.
The Aftermath
A week later, Anjali and Meera sat at the same café where their journey had begun.
"You saved my life, Meera," Anjali said.
Meera smirked. "I just did what lawyers do—argued our way to justice."
Anjali laughed. "Maybe. But I know one thing—no matter how much time passes, some friendships don’t fade."
Meera raised her chai. "To old bonds, new beginnings, and never letting fear win."
As they clinked their cups, the city lights shimmered around them. They had faced danger, betrayal, and fear—but they had come out stronger. And this time, their friendship was unbreakable.
