Ayan Chakravarty Chapter 1 morning, slipped quietly under the door of Veena Rajput’s modest Shimla cottage as if it were just another electricity bill or property notice, though nothing about it felt ordinary. The envelope was thick, creamy-white, sealed with a dark wax emblem embossed with a crest she hadn’t seen before—a snowflake enclosed within a circle of thorns. Her instincts stirred, the way they used to in her active service days when something about a clue didn’t quite fit. The note inside was written in elegant, slanted calligraphy: “Detective Veena Rajput (Retd.), You are cordially invited to Snowcrest Manor…