..."Fear doesn't always come from knowing the truth. Sometimes, it comes from realizing someone else knows more about you than you know about yourself."...
...The auditorium had gone unnaturally quiet....
...Only a few moments ago, students had been laughing, taking selfies with Dr. Zayan Arif and discussing the guest lecture....
...Now......
...Every pair of eyes was fixed on Kanishka....
...The police officer stood before her, holding the transparent evidence bag with her library card sealed inside....
...She could hear whispers spreading through the crowd....
..."Isn't she from Psychology?"...
..."Why are the police here?"...
..."Did she do something?"...
..."No way..."...
...Rhea immediately stepped in front of Kanishka....
..."There has to be some mistake."...
...The officer remained calm....
..."We're not here to accuse Miss Mehra of anything."...
..."Then why are you taking her?"...
..."We only need to ask a few questions."...
...His tone was polite, but firm....
...Kanishka looked at the library card....
...The tiny scratch near the barcode......
...The faded corner......
...It was definitely hers....
...There was no doubt....
...She slowly lifted her eyes....
..."Where did you find it?"...
...The officer answered without hesitation....
..."At a homicide scene."...
...The words echoed in her ears....
...For a second, the world around her disappeared....
...A homicide scene....
...The same murder from yesterday's news....
...Her fingers instinctively tightened around the strap of her bag....
..."That's impossible."...
..."I know."...
...The officer's expression didn't change....
..."But impossible things are exactly why we're here."...
...Professor Ishaan stepped closer....
..."Officer, she's one of my brightest students."...
..."We understand, Professor."...
..."Then surely you don't believe she—"...
..."We're not drawing conclusions."...
...Before anyone could say another word, Dr. Zayan finally spoke....
..."May I?"...
...The officer nodded....
...Zayan turned toward Kanishka....
..."When was the last time you used your library card?"...
...She forced herself to think....
..."Yesterday morning."...
..."Where?"...
..."The university library."...
..."Did anyone borrow your bag?"...
..."No."...
..."Did you leave it unattended?"...
..."I don't think so."...
..."You don't think so..."...
...he repeated softly....
..."Or you're certain?"...
...Kanishka hesitated....
...That tiny pause was enough....
...Zayan noticed....
...Of course he noticed....
..."I... left it on a table for maybe two minutes while I went to get a reference book."...
..."Anyone nearby?"...
..."I wasn't paying attention."...
...He nodded once....
..."Memory isn't as reliable as we like to believe."...
...His words reminded her of Professor Ishaan's lecture....
...A witness can believe every word they're saying... and still be wrong....
...Twenty minutes later......
...A police car rolled through the city....
...Kanishka sat in the back seat, staring silently out the window....
...She had informed her parents that she was helping the police with a university matter....
...Nothing more....
...She didn't want them to panic....
...Rhea had insisted on coming....
...The police refused....
..."I'll call you every hour!" she shouted before the car left....
...Kanishka managed a weak smile....
...She wasn't worried about herself anymore....
...She was worried about one question....
...Why her?...
...The city's Central Crime Branch stood like an aging monument of concrete and glass....
...Inside, detectives hurried through hallways carrying files, coffee cups and exhaustion....
...Phones rang constantly....
...Printers hummed....
...Voices overlapped....
...Yet beneath all the movement......
...There was order....
...The officer escorted Kanishka into an interview room....
...Simple....
...Gray walls....
...A table....
...Three chairs....
...A camera fixed in one corner....
...Nothing intimidating....
...Almost....
...Minutes later, Inspector Dev Malhotra entered carrying a thick evidence file....
...He looked exactly as he had at the crime scene....
...Calm....
...Tired....
...Observant....
...He placed the file on the table....
..."Miss Mehra."...
...She nodded politely....
..."Inspector."...
...He sat opposite her....
..."I'm going to ask you a few questions."...
..."Of course."...
..."You've never met the victim?"...
..."No."...
..."Never visited House Number Seventeen?"...
..."No."...
..."Do you know anyone named Arvind Sethi?"...
...She frowned....
..."I've never heard that name."...
...Dev watched her carefully....
...Not her words....
...Her breathing....
...Her eyes....
...Her posture....
...Years of experience had taught him that lies rarely appeared in sentences....
...They appeared in silence....
...After nearly five minutes......
...He closed the file....
..."I believe you."...
...Kanishka blinked....
..."...You do?"...
..."I believe you don't know the victim."...
...Relief washed over her....
...Until he spoke again....
..."But that doesn't explain why your library card was beneath his sofa."...
...Her relief disappeared just as quickly....
...The interview room door opened....
...A forensic analyst entered carrying another sealed envelope....
..."Sir."...
...Dev opened it....
...His face remained unreadable....
..."What is it?" Kanishka asked....
...Instead of answering......
...He slowly turned the report toward her....
...Item Recovered: University Library Card...
...Owner: Kanishka Mehra...
...Additional Finding: Partial fingerprint recovered....
...Kanishka stared....
..."My fingerprint?"...
..."No."...
...Dev's voice was quiet....
..."Someone else's."...
...He continued reading....
..."The fingerprint doesn't exist in any national criminal database."...
...The analyst added,...
..."It's as if the person has never officially existed."...
...Silence settled over the room....
...Elsewhere......
...Inside a dimly lit apartment......
...A man sat before six computer monitors....
...News channels covered the murder investigation....
...Police vehicles....
...Crime scene photographs....
...Speculation....
...He muted them all....
...On the desk lay another sheet of paper....
...Identical to the first....
...Across the top......
...STATEMENT NUMBER EIGHT...
...He smiled as he typed....
...Every keystroke echoed through the empty room....
..."The girl has entered the story."...
...He stopped....
...Read the sentence once....
...Then quietly tore the page in half....
..."No..."...
...he whispered to himself....
..."Too early."...
...He fed both pieces into a paper shredder....
...Some stories required patience....
...Back at the Crime Branch......
...The interview was almost over....
...Dev stood....
..."You may leave the city if you wish."...
...Kanishka looked confused....
..."...Really?"...
...He nodded....
..."But I don't recommend it."...
..."Why?"...
...He hesitated....
...Not because he didn't know the answer....
...Because he wasn't sure she was ready to hear it....
...Finally......
...He slid a photograph across the table....
...It had been taken from a CCTV camera located two streets away from the murder house....
...The image was grainy....
...Rain blurred most of the details....
...But one figure was unmistakable....
...A young woman......
...Walking under a black umbrella....
...The timestamp read:...
...11:58 P.M....
...Nineteen minutes before the victim died....
...The woman's face wasn't visible....
...But hanging from her shoulder......
...Was the exact same canvas bag Kanishka had brought to the station....
...Her breathing stopped....
..."...That's impossible."...
...Inspector Dev looked directly into her eyes....
..."I sincerely hope you're right."...
...To Be Continued......
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