Drishti walked faster as the night market lights dimmed behind her. The narrow lane cut the long way home by almost half. She told herself it was fine. She had taken this shortcut before. The air smelled of leftover fried snacks, dust, and cheap incense. Her sandals slapped against the uneven stones. She kept her phone in one hand and her bag tight against her side.

Four men stepped out from the shadows near a half-open shuttered shop. They were local. Everyone in the area knew them. They controlled the stretch after dark. The tallest one, Raju, blocked her path first. His shirt was open at the chest. Gold chain. Thick arms. The others spread out—Babu with the scar across his eyebrow, Sameer lean and quick, and Munna the youngest who always grinned like he was already winning.