Chapter 10: The Man Returns
Tanoy couldn't shake the feeling.
Something was wrong.
Not just wrong—
Impossible.
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the floor.
The cheque was still in his hand.
Cold.
Real.
Too real.
But everything else—
The hospital.
The room.
The girl.
Gone.
"No room 1101…"
"No patient named Rupkotha…"
The receptionist's words echoed in his head again and again.
Tanoy pressed his palms against his face.
"Then what did I see…?"
His voice was barely a whisper.
The fan above him spun lazily, its faint sound filling the silence of the room.
From outside, he could hear his daughters laughing.
Playing.
Calling for their mother.
Life was moving on.
Normal.
Unaffected.
But Tanoy—
He felt like he was losing his grip on reality.
"Tanoy?"
Nipa's voice came from behind.
He quickly straightened up.
"Yes?"
She stepped into the room, her eyes filled with concern.
"You've been acting strange since yesterday. Did something happen?"
Tanoy hesitated.
For a moment—
He almost told her everything.
The man.
The offer.
The girl.
But then he stopped himself.
How could he explain something that didn't make sense even to him?
"It's nothing," he said quietly. "Just office pressure."
Nipa didn't look convinced.
But she nodded.
"Come eat something."
"I'll come," he replied.
She left.
But the concern in her eyes stayed with him.
Tanoy looked down at the cheque again.
Fifty lakh.
Enough to change everything.
Enough to fix everything.
"Or destroy everything…" he murmured.
Suddenly—
His phone vibrated.
Tanoy frowned.
He didn't recognize the number.
For a moment, he considered ignoring it.
But something—
Something told him to answer.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then—
A voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
"I was wondering how long it would take."
Tanoy's entire body froze.
"You—"
His voice trembled.
"Yes," the man said. "Me."
Tanoy stood up instantly.
His heart was racing now.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "What is all this? That hospital—there's no such room! No such patient!"
A soft chuckle came from the other end.
"I know."
Tanoy went still.
"What… do you mean you know?"
"I mean exactly what I said," the man replied.
"There was no room 1101."
"No patient named Rupkotha."
Tanoy felt the world tilt.
"Then what did I see?" he whispered.
A pause.
Then—
"You saw what you needed to see."
Tanoy's breath caught.
"This… was a test," the man continued calmly.
A test.
The word hit him harder than anything else.
"A test?" Tanoy repeated. "You think this is some kind of game?"
"Not a game," the man said.
"Something much more important."
Tanoy clenched his fists.
"You made me believe I was about to commit murder!"
"And yet," the man replied quietly, "you didn't."
Silence.
Tanoy's anger faltered.
"You had the opportunity," the man continued.
"You had the motivation.
You had the reward."
Each word landed heavily.
"But you still refused."
Tanoy swallowed.
"I went back to return the cheque," he said.
"I know."
That answer sent a chill down his spine.
"How do you know that?" Tanoy asked slowly.
The man ignored the question.
Instead, he said—
"Do you know how rare that is?"
Tanoy didn't respond.
"Most people," the man continued, "wouldn't even hesitate."
"That's not true," Tanoy said.
"Isn't it?" the man asked.
Tanoy opened his mouth—
Then stopped.
Because deep down—
He wasn't sure anymore.
"You're lying," Tanoy said, but his voice lacked confidence.
The man sighed softly.
"You're not as certain as you want to be."
Tanoy's grip tightened around the phone.
"What do you want from me?" he asked again.
This time—
The man answered directly.
"I want to see how far you can go."
Tanoy's heart skipped.
"What does that mean?"
"It means," the man said slowly, "that the first test is over."
Tanoy's chest felt tight.
"And you passed."
The words should have felt relieving.
But they didn't.
Because something about this—
Felt far from over.
"What happens now?" Tanoy asked.
A brief silence.
Then the man said—
"Now…"
"We begin the second test."
Tanoy's pulse quickened.
"This time," the man continued,
"it won't be so simple."
A cold chill ran down Tanoy's spine.
"What do you mean?"
But the line had already gone dead.
Tanoy slowly lowered the phone.
The room felt smaller now.
Heavier.
As if the walls themselves were closing in.
"A test…" he whispered.
He looked down at the cheque again.
Still in his hand.
Still real.
Which meant—
This man was real.
And whatever this was—
It wasn't over.
Not even close.
Tanoy clenched the cheque tightly.
For the first time—
He wasn't just afraid.
He was involved.
And somewhere, deep inside—
A terrifying realization began to form.
He wasn't being forced into this.
He was choosing to stay.