The darkness closed in, suffocating and final. Shreya Singh, the beacon of justice and light, was extinguished in her own home, a victim of the very darkness she fought against. Her silenced scream hung heavy in the air, a testament to the brutal truth – sometimes, even the bravest hearts fall victim to the shadows.
Drishti's phone vibrated on the nightstand, the insistent buzzing a stark contrast to the silence that had settled over her apartment. Sleep, a distant memory, clung to the edges of her consciousness, but the weight of grief kept her wide awake. With a trembling hand, she answered the call.
"Drishti, it's Maya," a clipped voice announced, sending a shiver down Drishti's spine. Maya, a ruthless enforcer for the notorious Rajveer, was not someone you received calls from at 3 am.
"What is it?" Drishti forced a calmness into her voice that she didn't feel.
"We have a situation," Maya said, her voice devoid of emotion. "There's been an accident. Come to the address I'm texting you."
The address sent a jolt of recognition through Drishti. It was the location of a high-rise apartment complex on the outskirts of the city, a building Shreya had mentioned living in just a few days ago. Dread coiled in Drishti's stomach, a cold premonition gripping her heart.
Throwing on clothes, she raced out of her apartment, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as she hailed a cab. Every bump in the road, every screech of the brakes, felt amplified, a physical manifestation of the growing anxiety gnawing at her.
The cab screeched to a halt in front of the imposing glass and steel structure. Drishti paid the fare and rushed towards the entrance, her breath coming in ragged gasps. A growing crowd milled around a cordoned-off area, their hushed whispers painting a picture of chaos.
Pushing through the throng, Drishti finally reached the front. The sight that greeted her sent a scream curdling up her throat. Yellow police tape fluttered in the night breeze, outlining a gruesome scene. A lone police officer stood guard, his face grim. And below, on the crumpled hood of a parked car, lay a figure shrouded in a white sheet.
Drishti's vision blurred, the world tilting on its axis. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't. But a part of her, a cold, logical part, already knew. The lifeless form beneath the sheet, the one place where a single crimson stain marred the pristine white – it was Shreya.
"What happened?" Drishti rasped, her voice barely a whisper.
A young police officer, his face etched with a mixture of sympathy and unease, approached her. "We're still investigating, ma'am," he said gently. "Apparently, there was an accident. The victim fell from the rooftop."
Drishti's mind reeled. An accident? Shreya wasn't clumsy. There had to be more to the story. Her gaze darted across the scene, searching for answers. But the only other clue was a single glint of metal – a glint that could have been anything in the harsh glare of the floodlights.
A cold fury simmered within Drishti. Accident or not, she wouldn't let Shreya's death become another statistic. She would find the truth, no matter how deep the rabbit hole went. The memory of Maya's call echoed in her mind – a cryptic message, a missing piece of the puzzle. Drishti knew this was just the beginning. The fight for justice for Shreya had begun.
YOU ARE READING
whispering shillong
Mystery / Thrillerthere is no one on the roof top accept the darkness than how can she fall from the roof I know her she could not take her own life she is my not only best friend she's like my sister , someone killed her and I'll find him very soon.
