Upstairs in his room, Ivan sat deep in thought. If Vikas really killed that boy, bringing the truth to light won't be difficult, he mused. I could go straight to him and say—I know everything, you're the one who killed him! He was certain that under such sudden pressure, Vikas would panic and slip up, revealing the whole story.
But then, a wave of caution hit him. It was too risky. Confronting a killer face-to-face could make him the next target. Suddenly, a safer, more ingenious idea struck him. He hurried downstairs, finding the house eerily empty. Peering outside, he saw Vikas's car still parked there. Racing back up, he grabbed his smartwatch and a roll of heavy-duty tape. With calculated precision, he crept to the car and taped the watch securely under the driver's seat. He knew that once they left, Vikas and Arya would undoubtedly discuss him. He had already set the watch to 'Silent Mode', dimmed the brightness to zero, and enabled 'Auto-Receive' for calls.
Just as Ivan retreated inside, he saw Ishaan, Vikas, and Arya emerging from the house. "Ishaan, we have some business in the city, come with us!" Vikas called out. Ishaan hopped into his own car, while Vikas and Arya took theirs. All three were heading back to the very spot where, ten years ago, Ishaan had ended a life.
As the cars sped down the road, Ivan dialed his smartwatch from the safety of his room. The call connected instantly. Just as he had predicted, Vikas and Arya began to talk. Piece by piece, they let the truth slip—how Ishaan had killed the boy that night, the motive behind it, and the gruesome details of the struggle. Ivan sat frozen, his world spinning. All this time, he suspected Vikas, but the recording revealed a much darker reality: the real killer was his own father, Ishaan. He listened in silence as the full, lethal truth unfolded.
Meanwhile, Ishaan followed closely in his car. They reached the old, dilapidated shack and ventured inside. It was empty. There was no skeleton, no trace of remains. Panic surged through them—someone had taken the body. But who would want the corpse of a dead boy, and why?
As they left the shack, Ishaan began the drive home, his mind drifting back to the ghosts of a decade ago. Ten years ago, Ishaan was the wealthiest man in the village, a status he still held. He owned a shopping mall in the city where Vikas and Arya lived.
That fateful night, after finishing work at the mall, he had driven Vikas and Arya to his home for dinner. Around 10:00 PM, he set out to drop them back. The route from his village to the city passed through a stretch of road flanked by dense, endless forests for miles—a lonely, shadow-filled path.
Ishaan had been driving fast when a boy suddenly appeared in the middle of the deserted road. The boy was screaming at the top of his lungs, waving his arms to force the car to stop. Ishaan slammed on the brakes. The boy yelled, "Get out! I'm not letting you go today!"
Ishaan stepped out of the car, his voice cold and commanding. "Who the hell are you? What is this nonsense? Do you have a death wish?"
The moment the boy heard Ishaan's voice and saw his face, the bravado vanished. He realized he had picked a fight with the wrong man. Pale with fear, he stammered, "I... I'm sorry, sir. It was a mistake. I'm having a feud with someone else, and when I saw your car, I thought you were him."
"A mistake?" Ishaan roared, delivering a stinging slap across the boy's face. He grabbed the boy by the hair, intending to slam his head against the car frame. But the boy fought back, shoving Ishaan away with enough force to send him stumbling to the ground.
Fury, white and blinding, consumed Ishaan. He scrambled up, his hand closing around a jagged, sharp stone. With a guttural snarl, he swung it with all his might, driving the sharp point directly into the center of the boy's skull. The blow was so powerful that the stone became embedded deep within the bone.