The flickering tube light above cast long shadows across the narrow interrogation room. A single metal table stood between Inspector Ratan and Aarav Bachi.
The boy sat with slouched shoulders, his fingers twitching nervously in his lap. His school uniform was wrinkled. His face pale.
Outside, thunder growled and rain lashed the windows. But inside, it was too silent.
Ratan finally broke the silence.
"Aarav," he said, voice calm but firm, sliding a file across the table. "We don't think you're telling us everything."
Aarav didn't reply.
Ratan opened the file—photos of Ritika, the matchstick doll, the red ribbon, and the black coin with a painted rose.
"This coin you gave us…" Ratan tapped it. "It's fake. Do you know who gave it to you?"
Aarav swallowed, his throat dry.
"Ritika… she slipped it into my notebook. Two days before she fell."
"Did she say why?"
"She said… if something happened to her, I had to give it to 'the one behind the mask.'"
Ratan narrowed his eyes.
"She meant the Detective."
Aarav nodded slowly.
"Did Ritika ever mention the name Kaalkothri?"
"…Yes." Aarav's voice trembled. "She said it came to her in dreams. That it wasn't just a game… it was a punishment. An ancient one."
Ratan jotted something down, then leaned forward.
"We found your orphanage file."
Aarav's eyes widened. "What about it?"
"Who was Anish Bachi?"
Aarav froze. His voice dropped.
"He's no one."
"Was he your father?"
"…Yes."
"Then tell me. What was your mother's name?"
"I… I don't know. My father never told me. He said she died when I was a baby. So I never asked."
Ratan paused. His gaze didn't shift.
"You know, people said strange things started happening after your father's death. Mirrors cracking. Dolls moving. Voices."
"What doll? I don't know anything about that!" Aarav snapped.
He stood up suddenly, chair scraping against the floor.
"STOP! I'm not part of this! I didn't kill Ritika! I loved her!"
Ratan remained standing, but calm.
He clicked his pen once.
"This is Psycho Doll," he said quietly.
"Psycho… doll?" Aarav's voice cracked, as if something inside him was beginning to break.
Then Ratan asked, almost in a whisper:
"Who is Aryan?"
Aarav's face turned ghostly white. His lips parted, but no sound came out.
The storm outside raged louder.
---
To Be Continued…