Café Bonheur was quiet and warm, the smell of roasted beans and sugar in the air. Diya was already there, seated by the window, her usually playful expression replaced with something more serious. She stood up as soon as she saw Mira.
"Mira," she said with a bright smile, "meet Arjun Talwar."
The man beside her rose, extending a hand. He looked about twenty-eight, with slicked-back black hair, sharp features, and signature rectangular glasses that practically screamed intellectual. He had the kind of face that made people trust him—maybe because he looked like he could win an argument in three languages before breakfast.
"Pleasure to meet you," he said.
"Hi," Mira replied, shaking his hand. "You look like you argue with people for fun."
He chuckled. "That's… pretty accurate."
Diya cut in proudly. "He's legit. Top of his class. Passed the bar with distinction. Actually, your dad sponsored his final year...so he's willing to help us."
Mira's face froze. "Come again?"
Arjun nodded. "He covered my tuition anonymously. I found out later, through a professor. He told me I had potential, but not enough opportunity, so he gave me one. I owe everything to him."
Diya added, "I ran a background check. He's clean. Not in anyone's pocket."
"And I've been following his case since day one," Arjun added, more serious now. "I'll be reopening the case."
Mira narrowed her eyes. "Then where were you when everything was falling apart? When the media decided my dad was guilty before the trial even started? When we needed someone to fight..." Mira said, fighting tears, anger visible in her voice and eyes.
When Mira thought about the day her father got arrested and everything got pinned on him, shivers ran down her spine. The media had swarmed them, trying to twist every movement of the family into a spectacle, as if they were all part of some grand con. She remembered having to hide, ducking cameras and headlines, shielding her sister Lily in her arms—without ever explaining what was happening. Because how could she? How do you explain that the world just turned on you?
"Hey… are you okay?" Diya asked, gently placing a hand over Mira's.
Those words brought Mira back to reality.
"So," she said, voice quieter, "why now?"
Arjun paused. "Because before, I didn't know if I could make a difference. I didn't have standing. I was fresh out of law school and I thought someone better would take the case. But no one did. And then... the lawyer your family trusted turned out to be part of the cover-up. That's when I realized I couldn't keep waiting."
"I was watching," he said. "And collecting everything I could. I've read the indictment, the witness statements, the audit trails. There's one former employee—Charlie Becker—who gave a statement claiming your dad approved a fraudulent transfer. But your dad was in a baseball tournament with your sister the day the approval happened. I have footage proving that."
Mira blinked. "That wasn't in the trial."
"No," Arjun said. "Because your family lawyer had no intention to help. I dug through his past cases... turns out he's done favors for Richard Clamp, a board member. And Richard is the one who actually approved that transaction."
Mira's jaw tightened. "Richard. Of course."
"He was quietly siphoning company funds through a shell vendor registered under his cousin's name. Your dad flagged the inconsistencies in a memo sent to compliance two weeks before he was arrested. I believe that memo was the final trigger."
"I remember that day," Mira murmured. "He was distracted all evening. Said he was worried about something at work."
Arjun leaned forward. "He was right to be. The following week, Charlie Becker 'discovered' the fraud and pinned it on your dad. In exchange, he got full immunity for testifying. And kept his job. Convenient, isn't it?"
"Too convenient," Mira said bitterly. "And no one questioned it?"
"They did," Arjun said. "Quietly. I spoke to an intern from the compliance team. She said the internal investigation was rushed. And several emails your dad sent went missing right after the memo."
"But do you have them?"
"Not yet. But we're trying to access Mr. Caelan's laptop. Even if we can't recover the deleted emails, the metadata and timestamps might prove they were deliberately removed. That alone could support a motion to reopen."
Mira sat back slowly, her hands trembling just slightly. The café felt warmer now—or maybe it was just her pulse racing.
A heavy silence passed between them, filled with the unspoken possibility that things could finally change.
For the first time in months, Mira didn't feel like she was spiraling. She felt like maybe—just maybe—they were getting back on solid ground.
She pulled out her phone and stepped outside the café. It rang twice.
Aidan answered. "Mira? Everything alright?"
"Better than alright," she said. "We may have an actual shot."
"That sounds dangerously optimistic. What happened?"
"I met a lawyer. Arjun Talwar. Dad helped him through law school. He's been following the case this entire time. He's sharp, legit, and he says he can reopen it."
"You trust him?"
"I'm not sure. For all I know, it could be a trap. But we have nothing. Our father's in jail. He has nothing to gain from us. So I think we can risk it. It's not like it can get any worse."
There was a pause. Then: "That's true. But Mira, don't get hopeful too quickly. There are more forces at play than we understand. And Father... he still won't speak. He says it could put us in danger."
"Yeah. I know. Take care of yourself, Aidan. And tell Lily I asked about her."
She ended the call, her fingers still gripping the phone tightly.
She turned back toward the café, the smell of coffee and caramel wrapping around her like a new kind of armor.
It wasn't over.
But now, it didn't feel hopeless anymore.