...THE SEVENTH STATEMENT...

...The Statement That Shouldn't Exist...

..."Every crime scene tells a story. The problem is... stories don't always tell the truth."...

...---...

...Rain had a peculiar way of making the city forget....

...It blurred footprints, washed away blood, erased tire marks, and softened the echoes of screams until they became nothing more than distant whispers swallowed by the storm....

...But tonight......

...The rain couldn't erase what had happened inside House No. 17....

...Red and blue lights painted the quiet neighborhood in restless flashes. Police vehicles lined the narrow street while curious neighbors watched from behind closed curtains, too afraid to step outside and too curious to look away....

...Yellow crime-scene tape fluttered wildly in the cold wind....

..."Nobody goes in," an officer ordered....

...The atmosphere was unnaturally still....

...Not because there were no sounds....

...There were plenty....

...The clicking of cameras....

...The crackling of police radios....

...The steady rhythm of rain striking the pavement....

...Yet somehow......

...The house itself felt silent....

...As if it were holding its breath....

...Inspector Dev Malhotra stood at the entrance, his leather gloves damp from the rain. Twenty-three years in homicide had taught him one thing—...

...Crime scenes always spoke....

...Some whispered....

...Some screamed....

...This one......

...Was watching him....

...He stepped inside....

...The smell hit him first....

...Fresh coffee....

...Vanilla-scented candles....

...And something metallic hidden beneath them....

...Blood....

...The living room looked almost untouched....

...Books rested neatly on the shelves....

...A chessboard sat on the coffee table....

...One white king had fallen onto its side....

...Across the room, a grandfather clock stood motionless....

...Its hands pointed to a single time....

...12:17 A.M....

...Dev glanced at his wristwatch....

...Three-thirty-eight....

...The clock hadn't merely stopped....

...Someone had wanted it to stop....

..."Forensics?" he called....

...A young officer approached with a tablet in hand....

..."No signs of forced entry, sir."...

..."Witnesses?"...

..."No one heard a scream."...

...Dev frowned....

..."No neighbors saw anyone enter or leave?"...

...The officer shook his head....

..."Nothing."...

...Impossible....

...Murders always left traces....

...Always....

...He continued walking....

...His polished shoes echoed softly against the wooden floor until he reached the center of the room....

...There lay the victim....

...Male....

...Approximately forty years old....

...Expensively dressed....

...No visible stab wounds....

...No gunshot injuries....

...No broken bones....

...His expression wasn't twisted in fear....

...Nor in pain....

...It was......

...Recognition....

...As though, in the final heartbeat of his life, he had looked at his killer and realized exactly who they were....

...Dev had seen that expression only once before....

...Years ago....

...On a case he had never solved....

...He pushed the memory away....

..."Estimated time of death?"...

..."Around twelve seventeen."...

...His eyes drifted back toward the frozen clock....

...Of course....

...Nothing here was a coincidence....

...Nothing....

...A forensic photographer snapped another picture....

...Flash....

...Flash....

...Flash....

...Every burst of light revealed another detail....

...A shattered wine glass beneath the dining table....

...A chair slightly out of place....

...Mud near the back entrance—...

...No....

...Not mud....

...Ash....

...Gray ash....

...Enough to notice....

...Not enough to explain....

...Dev crouched beside the victim....

...The man's right hand was tightly clenched....

..."What is he holding?"...

..."We haven't opened it yet."...

..."Do it."...

...Carefully, a forensic examiner loosened the victim's fingers....

...Everyone leaned closer....

...A single sheet of paper....

...Perfectly clean....

...Not folded....

...Not stained....

...Almost as if someone had placed it there after the murder....

...The examiner slipped it into an evidence sleeve before handing it to Dev....

...Silence settled over the room....

...Even the radios seemed quieter....

...Dev opened the page....

...The title was centered neatly across the top....

...STATEMENT NUMBER SEVEN...

...His eyebrows knitted together....

..."There were only six witnesses."...

...The forensic officer nodded....

..."Exactly, sir."...

...Dev continued reading....

...His heartbeat slowed....

...The statement described the crime with terrifying precision....

...The victim pouring coffee....

...The knock on the door....

...The brief conversation....

...The exact words exchanged....

...The precise moment the victim smiled....

...The second that smile disappeared....

...The final breath....

...Every detail matched the evidence surrounding him....

...Every....

...Single....

...Detail....

...Whoever wrote this hadn't guessed....

...They had been there....

...But the list of witnesses contained only six names....

...Six people....

...Six statements....

...No seventh witness had ever been interviewed....

...No seventh person had been seen entering the house....

...No seventh fingerprint existed....

...Then Dev reached the final page....

...His breathing stopped....

...Typed beneath the signature was a date....

...Three days before the murder....

...A chill crawled slowly down his spine....

..."Run every test," he said quietly....

...The forensic officer blinked....

..."Sir?"...

..."I want the paper examined."...

..."The ink."...

..."The printer."...

..."The fingerprints."...

..."I don't care how long it takes."...

...The officer nodded quickly....

..."Yes, sir."...

...Just then—...

...A phone rang upstairs....

...Everyone froze....

...The victim's mobile had already been collected....

...No other electronic devices were active....

...Yet the ringing continued....

...Once....

...Twice....

...Three times....

...An officer hurried toward the staircase....

...Moments later—...

..."Sir..."...

...His voice trembled....

..."You should see this."...

...Dev climbed the stairs two at a time....

...The bedroom door stood open....

...Inside......

...Everything was immaculate....

...The bed was perfectly made....

...The windows were locked from the inside....

...A desk lamp cast a warm pool of light across an otherwise empty room....

...On the desk sat an old cassette player....

...Its tape had already reached the end....

...Yet somehow......

...The machine had switched itself on....

...A distorted voice crackled through the speaker....

...Not loud....

...Barely above a whisper....

..."If you're listening..."...

...Static....

..."...then you're already investigating the wrong murder."...

...The tape clicked....

...Silence....

...No one moved....

...No one spoke....

...Dev slowly looked back at the statement still clutched in his hand....

...For the first time in his career......

...He wasn't looking at evidence....

...He was looking at a challenge....

...Someone wasn't merely committing murders....

...Someone was writing a story....

...And they had already decided how it would end....

...Outside, the rain fell harder, washing over the city as if trying desperately to erase what had begun....

...It failed....

...Because somewhere—...

...Someone was already preparing......

...Statement Number Eight....

...---...

..."People don't suddenly become monsters. They become experts at hiding the monster inside them."...

...---...

...The city looked completely different in daylight....

...The same streets that had been drowning in police sirens only a few hours ago were now filled with impatient traffic, vendors calling out to customers, and students rushing toward the university gates with half-finished breakfasts in their hands....

...Somewhere among them......

...Walked a girl who noticed things no one else did....

...Not because she was gifted....

...Because she paid attention....

...Kanishka Mehra adjusted the strap of her canvas bag as she crossed the crowded campus of St. Aurora University. Earphones rested around her neck instead of in her ears....

...She liked hearing people....

...People revealed more than they realized....

...A boy walking ahead laughed loudly with his friends, but his fingers kept scratching the skin around his thumb....

...Anxiety....

...A professor smiled while greeting everyone, yet his shoulders were stiff and his smile disappeared the second he looked away....

...Exhaustion....

...Near the library steps, two girls hugged each other tightly....

...One meant it....

...The other kept checking her phone over her friend's shoulder....

...Distraction....

...Kanishka smiled faintly....

..."Human beings are terrible liars," she whispered to herself....

..."They're just lucky most people never look closely."...

..."Talking to yourself again?"...

...She turned....

...Rhea Kapoor stood behind her with two cups of coffee balanced in one hand....

..."You know," Rhea said dramatically, "one day people are going to think you're solving murders before breakfast."...

...Kanishka accepted the coffee with a grin....

..."I'd rather solve why you keep buying expensive coffee when you complain about being broke."...

..."That's called priorities."...

..."It's called financial self-destruction."...

...Rhea rolled her eyes....

..."Same thing."...

...The two burst into laughter as they walked toward the Psychology Department....

...Their friendship confused almost everyone....

...Rhea was loud, impulsive and emotional....

...Kanishka was observant, calm and impossible to read....

...Somehow......

...They balanced each other....

..."So," Rhea asked, "did you finish Professor Ishaan's assignment?"...

..."The behavioral analysis?"...

..."Mhm."...

..."Last night."...

..."You actually enjoy writing thirty pages about criminal behavior."...

..."I do."...

..."You scare me."...

..."I know."...

..."And you're smiling."...

..."I know."...

..."You really are scary."...

...Another laugh escaped between them....

...The university felt alive....

...Students argued over assignments....

...Someone played guitar beneath a tree....

...Fresh rainwater still glistened on the pathways after last night's storm....

...Nobody would have guessed that only a few kilometers away......

...A man had been murdered....

...---...

...Room 302....

...Department of Psychology....

...Professor Ishaan Verma wrote one sentence across the whiteboard before turning toward the class....

...PEOPLE DON'T ALWAYS SAY WHAT THEY BELIEVE....

...He capped the marker....

..."Can anyone tell me why eyewitness testimonies fail?"...

...Hands slowly rose around the room....

..."Memory loss."...

..."Fear."...

..."Pressure."...

..."Suggestive questioning."...

...Professor Ishaan nodded....

..."Correct."...

...He looked around once more....

..."Kanishka?"...

...She looked up from her notebook....

..."Sometimes," she began, "people don't remember what happened."...

...The classroom became quiet....

..."They remember what makes sense to them."...

..."If someone expects danger, they'll notice threatening details."...

..."If they trust someone, they'll ignore suspicious behavior."...

..."Our brains don't record reality."...

..."They create stories."...

...Professor Ishaan smiled....

..."And what does that mean?"...

...Kanishka answered without hesitation....

..."A witness can believe every word they're saying..."...

..."...and still be wrong."...

...Silence followed....

...Not awkward silence....

...Interested silence....

...The professor nodded slowly....

..."Exactly."...

...He looked around the classroom....

..."Never confuse confidence with accuracy."...

...Those words lingered in Kanishka's mind long after the lecture moved on....

...Because they reminded her of something....

...Something she couldn't explain....

...As if......

...Somewhere......

...Someone had already proven that theory....

...She just didn't know who....

...---...

...The lecture ended forty minutes later....

...Students flooded into the hallway, filling it with chatter....

...Rhea stretched dramatically....

..."If I hear the words 'cognitive bias' one more time, I'm transferring to literature."...

..."You'd survive two days."...

..."You're rude."...

..."I'm realistic."...

...Their banter was interrupted by the large television mounted above the reception desk....

...The usual campus announcements disappeared....

...Breaking News flashed across the screen....

...A news reporter stood outside a house surrounded by police tape....

...Behind her......

...Crime scene investigators moved in and out of the building....

..."...the victim was found shortly after midnight..."...

..."...police have released very little information..."...

..."...sources suggest investigators are calling it one of the most unusual homicide cases in recent years..."...

...Students gathered around the television....

...Some watched with curiosity....

...Others with excitement....

...Kanishka didn't know why......

...But she couldn't look away....

...The camera briefly showed the front entrance of the house....

...Something about it......

...Felt familiar....

...Then the screen changed....

...A police officer quickly covered the camera lens, ending the live footage....

...The hallway buzzed with speculation....

..."Serial killer?"...

..."Maybe robbery?"...

..."I heard there wasn't any weapon."...

..."That's creepy."...

...Rhea nudged Kanishka....

..."You're thinking."...

..."I always think."...

..."No..."...

...Rhea studied her face....

..."You're analyzing."...

...Kanishka didn't answer....

...She was staring at the frozen image still lingering in her mind....

...The front door....

...The clock inside....

...The strange feeling she couldn't explain....

...Almost......

...As if the house itself was asking to be remembered....

...And for the first time in a very long while......

...Kanishka felt something she rarely experienced....

...Unease....

...The cafeteria buzzed with the familiar chaos of lunchtime....

...Trays clattered against tables. Someone argued over the last plate of fries. A group in the corner burst into laughter so loud that half the room turned to stare....

...It was ordinary....

...Comfortingly ordinary....

...Rhea pointed toward an empty table by the window....

..."Come on. If we don't sit now, we'll end up eating on the stairs again."...

..."I actually liked the stairs."...

..."Because you're weird."...

..."I'm efficient."...

..."You're impossible."...

...As they settled down, Rhea immediately stole one of Kanishka's fries....

..."You know," Kanishka said without looking up, "you always steal exactly one fry before asking."...

...Rhea froze....

..."...What?"...

..."You've done it every single time since first semester."...

..."You seriously remember that?"...

..."I notice patterns."...

...Rhea sighed dramatically....

..."Remind me never to commit a crime around you."...

...Kanishka smirked....

..."You'd get caught before I even arrived."...

...Their laughter faded when Kanishka noticed someone across the cafeteria....

...A boy sat alone, his lunch untouched....

...His classmates laughed nearby, but no one invited him over....

...He kept checking his phone every few seconds before locking the screen again....

...His leg bounced restlessly beneath the table....

...Rhea followed her gaze....

..."What?"...

..."That boy."...

..."What about him?"...

..."He's waiting for someone."...

..."So?"...

..."They're not coming."...

...Rhea frowned....

..."How can you tell?"...

..."He keeps looking at the entrance instead of his phone. Every time the door opens, his shoulders lift for a second... then fall."...

...Kanishka paused....

..."He ordered two meals."...

...Only then did Rhea notice the second untouched tray....

...A few moments later, the boy quietly stood, threw the untouched food into the bin, and walked away without taking a single bite....

...Rhea stared after him....

..."...Okay."...

..."That's actually sad."...

...Kanishka lowered her eyes....

..."Loneliness is louder than people think."...

...For a brief moment, neither of them spoke....

...---...

...That evening......

...The rain returned....

...Classes ended early as dark clouds swallowed the afternoon sky....

...Students hurried toward the gates, umbrellas blooming across the campus like scattered flowers....

...Kanishka preferred walking....

...Rain helped her think....

...She slipped her headphones into her pocket and started toward the bus stop....

...Her phone vibrated....

...Unknown Number...

...She hesitated before answering....

..."Hello?"...

...Silence....

...Only faint static....

..."Hello?"...

...Then......

...A man's calm voice....

..."Miss Kanishka Mehra?"...

...Her footsteps slowed....

..."Who's speaking?"...

..."I have a question."...

..."...What?"...

..."If six people witnessed a murder..."...

..."...who wrote the seventh statement?"...

...The call disconnected....

...Kanishka stared at her screen....

...Unknown Number....

...No call history....

...No recording....

...Nothing....

...A chill crept down her spine....

...She told herself it was a prank....

...It had to be....

...Yet......

...How did the caller know her name?...

...---...

...Across the city......

...Inspector Dev Malhotra stood inside the forensic laboratory....

...His eyes remained fixed on the report lying before him....

...The paper recovered from the victim......

...Contained no fingerprints....

...No DNA....

...No printer marks....

...Nothing....

...It was as though it had appeared from nowhere....

...A forensic analyst approached....

..."Sir..."...

...Dev looked up....

..."We found something."...

..."What is it?"...

..."The paper wasn't the only thing recovered."...

...The analyst placed a small transparent evidence bag on the table....

...Inside lay a university library card....

...Dev frowned....

..."It wasn't on the body."...

..."No."...

..."It was under the sofa."...

...The name printed across the card made the room fall silent....

...KANISHKA MEHRA...

...Dev read it twice....

...Then a third time....

...He looked at the photograph....

...A young woman....

...Dark eyes....

...Calm expression....

...Student....

...Age twenty-three....

...He had never seen her before....

..."So..." he murmured....

..."Who are you?"...

...---...

...At that exact moment......

...Kanishka reached into her bag to take out her umbrella....

...Her hand froze....

...The library card....

...Gone....

...She emptied the contents of her bag onto the nearby bench....

...Books....

...Notebook....

...Wallet....

...Pens....

...Earphones....

...Everything......

...Except the card....

..."No..."...

...She searched again....

...Nothing....

...A strange feeling settled over her....

...She had used it that morning....

...She remembered placing it back inside the front pocket....

...She never misplaced important things....

...Never....

...The rain grew heavier....

...Thunder echoed above the city....

...Somewhere, in a police station she had never visited......

...Her missing library card rested inside an evidence bag....

...And somewhere else......

...Someone smiled....

...Because the first move had gone exactly as planned....

...---...

...End of Chapter One...