1: The Death

East of Pearl City, bordering its limits, lies the RK colony. Within this working-class neighborhood, Karthik and Siri slumber in their room, enveloped in a world of love and hopeful dreams. Siri's left hand rests on Karthik's right waist, as if she's casting a spell, her head nestled against his chest. Karthik lies supine, their semi-naked bodies cocooned in a chocolate-colored fleece blanket. The warmth beneath the covers shields the lovebirds from the harsh light of day.

Their romantic repose is shattered by the insistent ringing of a mobile phone on the nightstand. The persistent, customized ringtone successfully penetrates Karthik's eardrums, though Siri remains undisturbed.

Karthik's senses jolt him awake. His eyes may be reluctant to open, but his hands react instinctively to the electronic summons. His right hand fumbles on the nightstand, locating the phone before his eyes even fully register the room. In a half-conscious, horizontal state, he answers the call, holding the phone to his right ear.

"Hello!"

The caller's message sends a shockwave through Karthik, plunging him into chaos. He listens for a minute, eyes unblinking, tongue frozen in his mouth. The phone slips from his fingers onto the bed. He glances at Siri, still asleep, clinging to him.

Gently, Karthik removes Siri's hand from his waist, placing it beside her. He replaces his chest with a pillow. He drags himself from the clutches of sleep and rushes into the adjacent bathroom. His reflection stares back at him, his throat tight with grief. His eyes are dry, incapable of tears. He remains there for a few minutes, then splashes water on his face before returning to the bedroom.

He pulls on his colorful, flowered boxers, covers his bare chest with a plain red round-neck T-shirt, and slips into blue jeans. He retrieves his mobile from the bed, tucking it into his right front pocket. Grabbing his car keys from near the table lamp, he slips out, leaving Siri undisturbed.

An under-construction building teems with media personnel, forensic experts, police officers, and curious onlookers. Yellow tape, emblazoned with "CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS," cordons off the area. The building stands less than a hundred meters from the main road. Journalists scramble to capture the breaking news, their digital cameras and mobile phones poised to record every detail. Aspiring reporters, microphones in hand, begin their live broadcasts.

A car speeds past the crowd. Karthik emerges, his face etched with shock and disbelief. He pushes through the throng, heading towards the yellow tape. A constable blocks his path.

Karthik, his gaze fixed on the crime scene, sighs in despair. "My Dad!" he whispers.

The constable lifts the tape, allowing Karthik to pass. He stoops low to cross the barrier. His father's blood-soaked body lies on the ground, his head twisted, the left side pressed against the earth. A gaping wound at the crown of his head marks the point where life ebbed away. Yet, Karthik remains dry-eyed.

"Excuse me! Who are you? You can't be in a crime scene," a voice warns from beside the body.

Karthik turns to see the Sub Inspector.

"I'm his son," he replies, stating his identity.

"Karthik?" The Inspector confirms the name.

"Hmmm!" Karthik nods.

The Sub Inspector glances at the body, then back at Karthik, a flicker of thought crossing his face.

"Chari! Clear these crowds from here," he barks at a constable standing behind Karthik, then turns and walks away from the body.

Karthik stands motionless, staring at his father's lifeless form.

The Sub Inspector sits on a chair on the ground floor of the unfinished building, lighting a cigarette and contemplating the case.

"Chari, bring his son here," he orders.

The constable fetches Karthik.

The Sub Inspector pushes a rusty stool towards Karthik with his left leg, gesturing with his cigarette to indicate he should sit. He then instructs Chari to fetch tea. Chari obeys. Karthik, however, remains transfixed on his father's face, oblivious to the police officers and the offered seat.

"Ahem! Excuse me," the Sub Inspector begins. Karthik doesn't respond.

"What do you think about your father's suicide?" he asks.

Still no reaction from Karthik.

Undeterred, the Inspector persists. "Any suspects in your thoughts?"

Karthik remains silent, lost in his own world. The officer studies him intently, then throws away his half-smoked cigarette.

"Where were you last night?" he demands, raising his voice to break through Karthik's silence.

Karthik is in no mood for interrogation.

The Sub Inspector lets out a short, annoyed laugh.

"Hmmm! Let's do this some other time. We have a lot to process. You can't avoid me forever. Chari, where's my tea?" he says, walking towards his official vehicle with a grumble.

A short time later, a white luxury car pulls up behind the onlookers.

Siri and Rishi emerge, rushing towards Karthik, who stands numbly beside his father's body. Karthik is in desperate need of solace, and they provide it without a word to anyone present. They gently guide him into the car.

Siri, her face filled with dread, takes the driver's seat, with Karthik beside her. Rishi gives her a silent signal to leave. Siri nods and drives away without making eye contact. Rishi stays behind to discuss the formalities of claiming the body with the police. He signs the necessary documents. Police and hospital staff transfer the body into an ambulance, which then follows Rishi's car as he heads to the funeral home, having declared himself in charge of the arrangements.