Hello, Mr. Major General (1)

Chapter 159 - The First Meeting

“Maybe she had a nightmare?” whispered one of the orderlies behind them; the entire situation seemed
incredible to him.

These orderlies had been working at the Shukla residence for many years now, but it was the first time they had
encountered something like this.

The entire Shukla residence was protected by strict security measures. No one had ever set foot inside the residenceunless they had been invited; how was it possible for a strange, unknown woman to suddenly breach their perimeter?

Shehnaaz walked nervously to her bed. One corner of the blanket was turned back; she pulled the blanket away, and was greeted by the sight of a pristine, wrinkle-free bedsheet. It was as though the bed had been freshly made…

She knew there had been a cover-up. She turned to look at Sidharth, her expression solemn. “Uncle Sid, do you
believe me?”

“I do.” Sidharth stood in the doorway, his handsclasped behind his back. He did not approach Shehnaaz’s bed; instead, he walked over to the south wall of the bedroom, towards the curtains covering the French windows.

Sidharth drew the curtains apart, and placed a hand on the handle of the French windows. The windows creaked open with a gentle nudge. A cold wind immediately rushed into the bedroom. A few snowflakes drifted in the air.

“The window isn’t closed.” Sidharth  turned to look at the orderlies. “Who prepared this room today?”

The orderlies shook their heads. “Sir, it wasn’t any of us. The household servants attend to this room.”

They were only responsible for the safety of the two military men in the Shukla family: the retired former deputy commander of the military, Rajdeep, and his son, Anand, the current director of the military’s Political Department. The food for these two men were specially prepared by dedicated orderlies; they did not eat out of the same wok as the rest of the Shukla family.

Now that Sidharth had returned, the orderlies had to attend to him as well.

Shehnaaz was not part of the military. It was only logical for the Shukla family servants to attend to her.

Sidharth turned to look out the window. He remembered that there was a row of wrought-iron streetlights along the flowerbeds and garden. They shone bright as the sun at night; all the curtains in the Shukla  residence had to be sturdy blackout drapes, to effectively block out the light from these streetlights at night.
But the streetlights were all dark now.
This was highly unusual.

“Why are the streetlights out?” Sidharth shut the windows and locked them before drawing the curtains together. He turned towards the orderlies.

The head orderly paled. He had not noticed the anomaly.

Shehnaaz’s small suite was located in a remote, neglected corner of the Shukla residence. It had remained unoccupied for over a decade.

The Shukla family had hurriedly prepared the room because Sidharth had suddenly instructed his subordinate to call his family and tell them he would be coming home to
celebrate the New Year.

The streetlights outside this suite were not particularly important, in terms of security and location. It generally did not matter whether the lights were on or off.

But it had mattered today.

“…Sir, do you mean that someone entered from the French windows?” The head orderly hastily knocked his boots together in a military salute. “I’ll get someone to fix the streetlights, right away.”

Sidharth waved his hand, indicating that he did not want to press the issue. “Get the lights repaired tomorrow. Lock this room up—don’t let anyone near it.”