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"I built that 'vintage,'" Rohan said dryly.

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The next evening, 6 PM IST, Studio 3 was not a ghost house. It was chaos. A hundred people—former employees, their children, die-hard fans who had driven from three states away—packed the floor. The single spotlight was now joined by twenty cheap work lights from a hardware store. A teenager live-streamed on his phone. An old harmonium was wheeled in.

Rohan felt sick. "And the employees?"

Then the reel snapped.