~9~

March, 2015

Darsh's POV:

I sat in a wooden chair in front of a wooden desk. Across from me, a man lounged with his evening tea balanced precariously on a saucer resting on his potbelly. According to them, I tried to kill my friend, and the damning evidence was a keychain. Fu*k my life.

"Sir, I have been sitting here for more than an hour. First of all, this is a waste of time. The real criminal, the one who stabbed her, is still out there," I said, disrupting his serene tea-drinking session. His moustache twitched, clearly displeased.

"Hmm," he hummed, putting down the cup. "We will be the judge of whether or not this is a waste of time." He pulled out a pen and paper, his demeanor stiffening. "Now, tell me again."

"The keychain is mine. I'm not denying that," I said firmly. "But it was with me in the car when I took Kyra to the hospital. She must have grabbed something else from the criminal. This keychain is a distraction."

I leaned forward. "My girlfriend can confirm that I was home when Kyra was kidnapped. You can also check the CCTV footage from the store I went to and the parking lot of my apartment."

"You'll be free once we confirm everything you just said," he replied, his tone indifferent.

I leaned back in the chair, exasperated. We went from having brunch and carefree plans to this—sitting in an interrogation room, accused of attempted murder. Who would have thought life could turn upside down in mere moments? The enclosed space felt suffocating, knowing the criminal was still out there, free to strike again.

I lost track of time. Eventually, a voice cut through my daze: "You can leave. You've been granted bail."

I stood and walked out to find my concerned parents waiting on a bench. Their relief was evident, but their silence was deafening.

The ride home was unbearable. No accusations, no questions—just silence. I wished they'd shout or demand answers. Anything but this.

Finally, I broke the tension. "Why are you all acting like I'm guilty? Like I'm the one who stabbed Kyra?"

My dad's voice was sharp. "There's no CCTV footage proving you were at the store. Someone tampered with the parking lot cameras. There's practically no evidence proving your innocence."

"Dad, that's not an issue. You know I was home when it happened. I even have the receipt for the payment," I argued.

"That's not what we're concerned about!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the table. "This will ruin your future. You're involved in a police case! As soon as this is over, you're going to London."

"I've been accepted to a college here. I don't need to—"

"I'm NOT asking! I'm informing you," he barked, cutting me off. He stormed out of the room, the slam of his door echoing through the flat.

I turned to my mom, desperate. "This is ridiculous. Why should I run away when I've done nothing wrong?"

Her expression was grave, her voice low. "I agree with your dad. Why give up on your dream college? Is it because of that 'girlfriend' of yours?" Her words left me stunned.

"What do you mean?" Panic bubbled in my chest. Did the police question her in front of everyone? Is Ava okay? I needed to check on her.

"You're not ruining your life for a petty love story," she said coldly. "You're leaving, and that's final."

"It's my choice! I decide whether I stay or leave!" I shouted, turning to leave, sick of their decisions controlling my life.

"Oh, please do decide—when to pack. We're moving out of this town the day this case is closed," she said, her words halting me mid-step.

                                                                                                 ~~**~~