"You!?" Ratan shouted, his gun still raised, eyes blazing with betrayal. "Animesh Basu… you?"
The principal of Taraniketan School didn't flinch. His expression was calm—almost too calm.
"I warned you," he said softly. "Told you to stop digging. You wouldn't listen."
The Masked Detective stepped forward, voice razor-sharp. "You orchestrated all this? The disappearances? The threats? The lies?"
Animesh chuckled bitterly. "Orchestrated? No. I simply preserved what others tried to bury."
"What are you talking about?" Ratan growled. "These are children. What could they possibly have to do with your twisted idea of justice?"
"It's not about them," Animesh said, voice lowering. "They wanted to separate me from my daughter."
The Detective's eyes sharpened. "She's not your daughter, Animesh. Ishita never was."
He laughed—a cold, cracked sound. "Yes… I know. She's not Ishita. She's Sanchayita. I made her believe otherwise."
Ratan staggered. "What…?"
Animesh's face darkened. "They're best friends. They looked alike. I just… helped her forget."
A shadow passed over his eyes. "But it doesn't matter now. You've seen too much."
Suddenly, he reached inside his coat—
Bang!
Ratan fired a warning shot near his feet. "One more move and I won't miss."
Animesh raised his hands slowly, smirking. "You think it ends with me? You're just scratching the surface."
The Detective rushed to the girls. Some were crying. Others stared ahead in shock. She untied them gently, carefully.
"You kidnapped them. You brainwashed her. All because she looked like Ishita," she said coldly.
Suddenly—Animesh lashed out—punched her.
The Detective stumbled—her mask fell off.
Silence.
Ratan, Animesh, and even Sanchayita froze.
"You…!" they all gasped at once.
Animesh's expression twisted into something unreadable. "I kept them safe," he murmured. "From the people who started this. From the ones you haven't met yet."
Ratan moved fast. He cuffed Animesh's wrists and yanked his arms back. "You'll explain everything. At the station."
As they led him away into the night, the Detective remained behind.
She looked around—at the walls covered in clippings, the triangle symbols burned into wood, the half-finished rituals.
Something wasn't complete.
Someone was still missing.
She turned slowly, her face now unmasked, her eyes lost in the shadows ahead.
"This isn't over," she whispered.
She turned slowly, her face now unmasked, her eyes lost in the shadows ahead.
"This isn't over," she whispered.
Then—her gaze locked onto something.
A tattoo on Animesh's neck.
A black rose.
Thorns coiled tight and sharp.
A crescent moon bloomed from its center—like a crown.
Her breath caught.
A memory blinked to life.
A face in the dark. A whisper in the rain.
A symbol drawn in charcoal in an old case no one had solved.
The same rose.
The same crescent.
She staggered back a step.
It wasn't Animesh's symbol.
It belonged to someone else.
Someone far worse.
Someone still out there.
To Be Continued....