Midnight Mist

Gotcha!!!

A few days later, after the old parents had completed the last rites for their son, the grief still hanging heavily in the air, they were once again summoned to the police station. The rituals were done, but the ache of losing their child hadn't eased-if anything, it had only grown deeper. They had laid their son to rest, but questions still gnawed at their hearts. Why had he been taken from them so violently? Who had done this to him?

The old father, still wearing the same tattered clothes, looked at his wife before they set out for the station. She had barely spoken since the day they buried their son, her eyes hollow, her heart crushed by the weight of her loss. But there was still a flicker of hope in her that the police might find answers.

He nodded silently, the grief evident in his every movement, but there was a quiet strength in him that kept him moving forward. They made their way to the police station, their steps slow but determined.

As they entered the station, Gagan stood to greet them. His face was a little softer now, though the tension of the case still seemed to hang in the air. He gestured for them to sit.

"Thank you for coming," Gagan said, his voice respectful yet heavy with the seriousness of the situation. "We need to ask you a few more questions about your son. It's important that we gather all the information we can."

The old father sat down, his hands trembling slightly as he placed them on his lap. "What more do you need to know, officer? We told you everything we could about our son. We just want to know who did this."

Gagan nodded, understanding the pain in the father's voice. "We understand. But there are some details we need to clear up, things that could help us piece together what happened to him."

The mother, her eyes filled with tears but still determined, spoke quietly, "We will answer anything you ask. Just please, find out who took our son from us. No parent should have to go through this."

Gagan gave a reassuring nod. "We'll do everything we can, ma'am. We just need your help with a few more questions. It won't take long."

Gagan leaned forward slightly, his tone calm but insistent, as he turned to the grieving parents. "I know this is difficult, but to move forward with the investigation, we need to understand more about your son's life. Could you tell me about his profession? What kind of work did he do? Any close friends or people he spent a lot of time with?"

The old father wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice rough as he spoke. "My son... he worked at a small shop in the market. He wasn't rich, but he was a hard worker. He liked his job. He had some good friends, you know, people he would hang out with after work. But... not many. He wasn't the type to stay out too late or go to crowded places. He was content being at home with us."

His wife, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, nodded along. "He didn't go out much, always came back home after work. We used to wait for him every evening. He had a few friends, but mostly, he kept to himself. We don't know if anyone would want to hurt him." Her voice cracked at the end, her tears falling freely now.

Gagan nodded thoughtfully, making notes. "Do you know if there was anyone he had disagreements with, or anyone who might have had a reason to hurt him? Any recent changes in his life-new people he was meeting or anything unusual?"

The father thought for a moment, his brow furrowing. "There were a couple of times he mentioned some people at work who were... trouble. But he never told us much about them. He would just say 'it's nothing to worry about, papa'. I don't know, officer. Maybe we missed something."

The mother, her voice small but firm, added, "He was a good boy. He didn't get into trouble. I don't think anyone would want to harm him. He was too kind to anyone."