The Ahmedabad Junction railway station was a chaos of humanity at 2:47 PM when Rajesh and Kamala Menon stepped off the Chennai Mail, their faces hollow with grief and sleeplessness. They had been traveling for nearly twenty hours, sitting upright in second-class compartments because there had been no time to book proper berths, existing in a nightmare state where reality felt too impossible to accept.
Rohith was waiting on the platform, flanked by two of his Infosys colleagues who had volunteered to provide support. He had dressed carefully for this moment—simple clothes, dark circles under his eyes enhanced by skipping his morning shower, stubble that suggested a man too devastated to attend to basic grooming. When Kamala saw him, she let out a wail that turned heads across the crowded platform.




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