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No face
Tiny drops of rain lashed against the windows. The swollen clouds, still some distance away judging by the distant claps of thunder, were approaching at full speed. The high-pitched wail of the wind was audible at frequent intervals.
It was inky black outside, but inside the living room everything looked bright ... except it was not. Everyone present was seated at the edge of their seats waiting anxiously for their chance. The sub-inspector called everybody, one by one, to the dining table and asked them about their movements during the evening. This went on for a while.Waiting for your chance made it a nerve-wracking process. It accentuated an occasional sigh to an opera crescendo and was enough to startle the wits out of the unhappy gathering. A mixture of grief and panic was visible on the faces. Some were sitting perfectly still but had trouble breathing, some were feeling restless while others could feel a flutter in their stomachs.Among them, a figure sat calmly, mirroring the grief of the others by a watery eye or a look of encouragement. It was all a ruse ... a mask of pain deceiving the people around, making them think that this mind was capable of feeling sadness. It wasn’t. That emotion had long gone ... substituted by hate. For the last six months, this mind had only one thought ... one purpose, the destruction of Esha Arora.I can’t stop now. There’s more work to be done.The rain started drumming heavily against the dark windows
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