The Midnight Visitor Bengaluru never really slept. Even after midnight, the city breathed in its own strange rhythm—the distant hum of traffic, the occasional horn from a passing vehicle, the whir of ceiling fans behind apartment windows, and the soft glow of streetlights falling over empty roads. But Priya had stopped noticing those sounds. For the past three months, she had become accustomed to silence. She lived alone in a small apartment on the fourth floor of an old building in Indiranagar. The apartment was comfortable, the balcony overlooked a narrow tree-lined street, and the city offered everything she could