The train rattled steadily through the dark Indian countryside, its rhythmic clatter a constant backdrop to the night. Shruti shifted uncomfortably in her lower berth in the AC 2-tier compartment, adjusting her dupatta over her modest salwar kameez. At 21, she was traveling alone for the first time to visit her relatives in Delhi. Her parents had insisted it was safe, especially since one of their old family acquaintances, Rajesh Uncle, was on the same train. He was in his late 40s, a stout man with a neatly trimmed mustache, sharp eyes, and a reputation back home as a helpful but somewhat sly businessman.

"Arre Shruti beta, tum yahan akeli? Bahut badi ho gayi ho!" (Hey Shruti dear, you're here alone? You've grown up so much!) Rajesh had exclaimed when he spotted her at the station, his gaze lingering a second too long on her chest before he smiled warmly. He helped her with her bag and ensured their berths were adjacent—his upper berth directly above hers in the same compartment. The other two passengers, an elderly couple, had already dozed off in the opposite berths.