Nisha stood on the empty platform as the last train pulled away into the night, its lights fading into the darkness. The station was deserted, the clocks showing past midnight, and the only sounds were the distant chirping of insects and the occasional creak of old metal. She clutched her handbag tighter, her modern jeans and blouse feeling thin against the cool air. She had missed the train by minutes after a long day at work, and now she was alone.

From the shadows near the waiting room, four porters emerged. Bharat was the tallest, broad-shouldered with a rough face. Gulshan walked beside him, lean and quick-eyed. Irfan followed, stocky and silent. Tushar brought up the rear, younger but with a hard stare. They had stayed behind after the last shift, watching her from a distance.