The mist hung low over the sugarcane fields as the group huddled in the farmhouse, the oppressive silence broken only by the occasional crack of thunder in the distance. The tension between them had become unbearable, every glance charged with suspicion.
“They were here,” Manasvi repeated, her voice trembling. She hugged her knees tightly as she sat on the living room sofa. “I’m not imagining things.”
“No one said you’re imagining things,” Misty said carefully, though her sharp tone betrayed her own fraying nerves.
“You didn’t have to,” Manasvi shot back, her voice rising. “None of you believe me. Just like no one believed me about Ratna.”
“Alright, enough,” Shreya said, stepping between them. “We’re wasting time arguing. If someone is out there—or in here—then we need to figure out who it is before they do anything else.”
An Ominous Discovery
Misty, Anshika, and Apoorva began securing the windows and doors, while Shreya and Manasvi checked the upstairs rooms.
“Stay close to me,” Shreya told Manasvi, her flashlight beam sweeping across the hallway.
They reached the storage room at the far end of the corridor, a place none of them had entered yet. The door creaked open to reveal stacks of dusty boxes and an old trunk shoved against the wall.
Manasvi gasped, pointing toward the floor. A trail of muddy footprints led straight to the trunk.
Shreya froze. “Don’t touch anything,” she warned. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as she approached the trunk, the air in the room feeling suddenly colder.
With trembling hands, she flipped open the lid. Inside was a faded jacket, stained with what looked like dried blood. Beneath it lay a small black notebook.
Shreya carefully opened the notebook, her breath catching as she read the first few lines.
“I know who they are. I’ve always known. And if anything happens to me, they will pay.”
Manasvi’s voice was barely a whisper. “It’s Ratna’s handwriting.”
The Second Attempt
Before Shreya could respond, the sound of shattering glass echoed from downstairs.
“Anshika!” Manasvi cried, bolting toward the stairs. Shreya grabbed the notebook and followed, her heart pounding.
In the kitchen, they found Anshika slumped against the counter, clutching her arm. Blood seeped through her fingers, dripping onto the floor. Apoorva stood frozen nearby, her face pale.
“What happened?” Shreya demanded, kneeling beside Anshika.
“I don’t know,” Anshika gasped. “I was checking the windows, and then… someone threw something through the glass. It hit me.”
Misty picked up the object from the floor: a jagged piece of broken pottery. She turned it over, her expression darkening.
“This was from the living room,” she said. “It wasn’t thrown from outside—it came from inside the house.”
The group fell silent, the realization sinking in.
“That’s it,” Shreya said, standing. “We’re locking every door and staying together until this storm clears.”
“No!” Anshika snapped, her voice shaking. “If someone here is trying to hurt us, I’m not staying anywhere near them!”
“Then what’s your plan?” Shreya shot back. “Run out into the fields? Be my guest.”
Apoorva finally spoke, her voice low. “I think… I think we should call Officer Devesh.”
“Because he’s been so helpful so far,” Misty muttered, but she pulled out her phone anyway.
Officer Devesh Returns
Devesh arrived an hour later, his boots caked with mud from trudging through the fields. He stepped inside, shaking off the rain, and surveyed the group.
“Well,” he said, his sarcastic tone cutting through the tension, “looks like the party’s heating up.” His eyes landed on Anshika’s bandaged arm. “What happened to you?”
“Someone threw this,” Anshika snapped, holding up the shard of pottery. “Through the window. Or maybe through my head next time.”
Devesh frowned, picking up the shard. “It’s from inside the house.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Shreya muttered.
Devesh ignored her, instead turning to Misty. “You all sure you’re alone here?”
Misty hesitated. “We think so. But…” She glanced at the notebook in Shreya’s hands.
Devesh took it, flipping through the pages. His expression darkened as he read.
“Interesting,” he said finally, tucking the notebook into his coat. “Did you all know about this?”
“No,” Misty said firmly. “We just found it.”
Devesh’s gaze swept the room. “Funny how things you think are buried keep crawling back up. But hey, maybe this will give us some answers.”
“What does that mean?” Anshika demanded.
Devesh didn’t answer. Instead, he gestured toward the door. “I’ll check the fields. Lock up behind me—and try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”
The Fields
The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the mist clinging to the sugarcane fields like a shroud. Devesh’s flashlight bobbed in the distance, but the group remained inside, too scared to follow.
As they watched from the window, Apoorva spoke quietly. “What if he finds something?”
“Then we’ll finally have some answers,” Shreya said.
Misty shook her head. “Or more questions.”
The group fell silent, their unease growing as Devesh disappeared into the mist.
Minutes later, his voice crackled through the static of Misty’s phone.
“You’re not going to like this,” Devesh said. “But I found something in the fields. Looks like a fresh dig site—something was buried here and taken out recently.”
“What does that mean?” Misty asked, her voice shaking.
“Means someone’s been busy,” Devesh replied. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t turn my back on anyone tonight.”
The line went dead.
Cliffhanger: The group stood frozen, staring at the phone. From somewhere inside the house, a floorboard creaked, followed by the faint sound of footsteps heading toward the attic.
