Midnight Mist

Spread Out

Meanwhile in the police station, Gagan leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Something about Rishabh’s confession gnawed at him. It had come too easily.

“Why did he confess so quickly?” Gagan muttered to himself, tapping his pen on the desk. “There was no coercion, no pressure. Just a few pointed questions, and he admitted everything.”

He reviewed the interrogation notes and replayed the video recording of Rishabh’s statement. The young man had seemed nervous, but there was no defiance, no attempt to deny anything beyond a brief initial hesitation. It didn’t fit the usual pattern of a guilty party being cornered.

The police station was buzzing with its usual activity when the doors opened abruptly. Two pairs of distraught parents rushed in, their expressions a mix of worry and sorrow. Rishabh’s parents looked utterly shaken, while Abhinav’s parents carried an air of desperation, but with a sliver of hope.

Gagan, sitting at his desk, glanced up and immediately recognized them. His face hardened slightly as he gestured for them to approach.

"Inspector," Abhinav's father began, his voice trembling but firm. "We’ve just heard about Rishabh’s arrest. We… we don’t believe he could have done this."

Rishabh’s mother stepped forward, her eyes filled with tears. "Please, Sir, he’s a good boy. We know our son. There must be some mistake!"

Gagan straightened in his chair, his tone measured but firm. "I understand your feelings, but we have strong evidence. Rishabh confessed to the crime, and we have CCTV footage placing him near the scene on the day of the incident."

Abhinav’s mother spoke up, her voice strained but resolute. "Inspector, we’ve known Rishabh since he was a child. He and our Abhinav were like brothers. I cannot imagine him doing something so horrible. Please, investigate further. There has to be another explanation!"

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Gagan’s expression softened.

Abhinav’s father added, "We’re not here to defend him blindly, but we know him. This doesn’t add up. Rishabh may have been frustrated, but murder? No. It’s not in his nature."

Gagan led the anxious parents into a small room where the evidence was displayed on a monitor. He played the CCTV footage, pausing at the moment Rishabh was seen near the scene of the crime.

Rishabh’s father’s eyes burned with fury as he turned to Gagan. “Where is he?”

“He’s in the lockup,” Gagan replied. “But I must warn you—this is a legal matter now. Any interaction with him will be under our supervision.”

Without waiting for further permission, Rishabh’s father stormed out, heading straight to the lockup area, where his son sat on the cold bench behind the bars. His mother and Gagan followed closely behind.

As Rishabh saw his parents approach, his head hung low, and his shoulders slumped. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he said nothing.

His father’s voice boomed, echoing through the station. “Rishabh! What have you done?!” He slammed his hand on the bars of the cell, his anger spilling over. “You bring shame to this family! How could you? How could you kill your own friend?!”

Rishabh flinched at his father’s words, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. His mother, still standing by the door, sobbed quietly, unable to reconcile the image of her son with the accusations against him.

“Say something!” his father shouted, his voice breaking with a mix of anger and sorrow. “Tell me this isn’t true! Tell me you didn’t do it!”