Meanwhile, at the police station…

Officer Advait stepped inside, his boots echoing against the tiled floor. He walked straight to the phone-analysis room, where the glow of computer screens lit the tense faces of the tech unit. One officer sat hunched over, eyes fixed on the monitor, Suhaan’s phone connected by cables, its locked screen staring back like a wall of secrets.

“Any progress on the phone we recovered from the scene?” Advait asked firmly.

The officer didn’t look up, his fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard.
“Not yet, Officer Advait. The encryption’s stronger than we expected.”

Advait’s jaw tightened. His voice carried the weight of urgency.
“We don’t have time. That phone could hold everything.”

The officer’s eyes never left the screen.
“I understand, sir… but it will take some time.”

The silence of the room was broken only by the frantic clicks of the keyboard. The night outside was heavy, suffocating. Yet, hours later, the first light of dawn pushed through. The sun rose, birds began to chirp, and the world carried on as if it knew nothing of the darkness these men were chasing.

Later, in the hospital…

Both Advait and Dhruv entered Nari’s room. The atmosphere was delicate, her fragility hanging in the air. Dhruv sat down, softening his tone.
“I need to ask you a few questions about what happened. Anything you remember—even the smallest details—could help us.”

Nari’s anxious gaze flickered between them. “Hmm…”

Dhruv continued gently, “We’ll start with your name again… then you can tell us the whole story.”

Her eyes fell to the floor. Her voice trembled.
“My name is Nari… and my kid’s name is Jay.”

She drew in a shaky breath and began to recall the night that had shattered her life.
“That night… I came home from the office. My husband was cooking. Everything felt normal. But in the middle of the night… I woke up tied to a chair, in a dark room.”

Her breathing quickened. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Then… he came. He said he had killed my child. I couldn’t take it—I blacked out.”

Her voice cracked as the words fell from her lips.
“That’s all I remember.”

Dhruv leaned forward, his voice warm yet steady.
“But… your child is alive. That means he lied to you. There’s something fishy about all this. Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

Nari lifted her head slowly, eyes glistening.
“No…” she whispered. Then, almost desperately, “But… where is my husband, Officer Advait?”

Advait’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t answer her question. His tone was firm.
“We will talk about that later. Right now, we need to ask your son a few questions.”

Nari and Jay were in the same hospital room. The boy sat on the bed, small but with eyes that had already seen too much. Advait turned toward him.

“You’re the one who called us that morning, right?”

Jay looked straight at him, his voice steady.
“Yes.”