under the wraps

The Killer Walked Home

"You can wash the scarlet from your hands, but the ground remembers—your shoes will always carry the scent of someone else's blood."

Vera: You said we need to trust each other. And trust needs something to stand on.

She explained her intentions calmly, placing her doubts openly on the table. Sushant moved his eyes from left to right, as if silently letting the room decide for him.

Sushant: Fine. Ask.

His calm response came unexpectedly.

Vera: If that nail doesn't belong to your girlfriend, then why do you have it? And who does it belong to?

Of course, she was still suspicious. Everyone in the room was.

Sushant: I expected that question.

He began speaking immediately, as if the answer had already been prepared.

So listen carefully.

When my girlfriend went missing, I tried everything to find her. But she disappeared like thin air. My father said that people like her were attempting suicide recently. When I researched the causes behind those suicides, I found something strange. All of them had similar problems. Similar personalities.

That's when I realized—it wasn't suicide. It was murder disguised as suicide.

When her body was finally found, I searched the area myself. That's when I found the nail. Later, DNA proved it wasn't hers. My father erased my name from every record to avoid rumors.

But I didn't stop.

During one such murder, I almost caught the killer—but he slipped away. However, he dropped his diary at the scene.

Vera: Then how did we not find it?

Confusion crossed her face. Everyone nodded—they were thinking the same.

Sushant: Because I took it before you could.

The room stiffened.

I don't trust you people. I was also the one who informed you about the missing shoe of the victim. I found it and reported it. Otherwise, you'd still be calling all of this suicide.

Rudra: We don't trust you either.

His voice was sharp with anger.

You touched evidence without permission. You hid it from us. You even painted the nail found at the crime scene.

Vera quickly intervened, calming him with her voice.

Sushant: Who said I painted it?

Vera: But if it doesn't belong to your girlfriend... then it could belong to the killer.

Sushant smiled faintly.

Sushant: Do you know why you people haven't caught the killer yet?

He looked directly into Vera's eyes. A smirk crept onto his lips.

Sushant: Because you assumed the killer was a man.

Silence.

But the killer... is a woman.

Shock rippled through the room—Vera, Rudra, Prachi, Nitin, Mohit. Even the walls covered in clippings seemed stunned. Somewhere in a corner, an unnoticed lizard froze mid-movement.

Rudra: What bullshit are you spewing?

Sushant: Don't believe me? Look at the diary.