“Divya, I have a meeting nearby. Can you wait for me? I’ll wrap it up quickly,” Anusha said, gathering her things.

“Sure, take your time. I’ll be here,” I reassured her with a smile.

Anusha hurried off to her meeting, and I found myself alone. As I waited, I noticed a familiar jeep pull up nearby. Rehaan stepped out, looking deep in thought, a slight frown creasing his brow.

“Rehaan!” I called out, waving to catch his attention.

He turned in my direction, his expression softening when he saw me. With a small, warm smile, he walked over.

“What brings you here?” he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

I held up a file and waved it lightly. “I had to come by to sign some papers. My dad’s case has been officially closed, and they needed my signature to finalize it.”

His expression shifted, and he nodded slowly, a look of understanding and sympathy crossing his face.

“Ah, I see. It must feel strange, huh?” he said gently.

I nodded. “Yeah, it does. It’s like closing a chapter you’re not entirely ready to end.”

Rehaan gave a thoughtful nod, his eyes reflecting a quiet empathy. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

"Is everything okay with you?" I asked, noticing the tension in Rehaan's face from earlier.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm good, just a bit rattled. It’s another suicide case. I don’t understand why people don’t think about their loved ones before doing something so drastic. I mean, it’s such a cowardly way out," he said, shaking his head in frustration.

I nodded slightly, offering a faint smile, but remained quiet.

Rehaan raised an eyebrow, noticing my silence. "What? You look like you have something on your mind."

"Nothing," I said softly, trying to dismiss it.

He wasn’t buying it. He stopped in front of me, crossing his arms. "Come on, just say what you’re thinking. I can handle it."

I hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "No offense, Rehaan, but I don’t agree with calling people who commit suicide cowards. It’s not always about strength or weakness. Sometimes life throws so much at them that they feel completely overwhelmed. They forget that the pain they’re feeling will eventually pass. Maybe they’ve lost sight of hope, or maybe there’s no one around to remind them that, no matter how dark things seem, there’s always a way through. Not everyone is lucky enough to have someone reach out and say, 'I’m here for you. You’re not alone in this.'"

Rehaan stood there, listening intently, his expression softening as I continued.

"I’m not justifying what they did, but I think we shouldn’t be so quick to judge or criticize them. We never really know what someone is going through until we’ve walked in their shoes. It’s easy to call them weak, but the truth is, when you're in that much pain, sometimes it’s hard to see a way out. Compassion goes a long way in these situations."

He looked down for a moment, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "You're right. I didn’t think about it that way... I'm sorry for being so harsh."

I gave him a reassuring smile. "It’s okay. We all have our own perspectives. It’s just important to remember that sometimes, people need empathy more than judgment."

“So, what’s the urgent matter you wanted to discuss with me?” Rehaan asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

I blinked in confusion for a moment, not immediately recalling what he meant. Then he showed me the message I had sent him earlier.

“Oh, that,” I said, the memory clicking into place. I quickly explained the situation involving the mysterious well-wisher who had been contacting me.

Rehaan’s expression shifted, his curiosity deepening. “A well-wisher, huh?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “he called me, but I’ve been feeling uneasy about it. There’s something off, and I thought you could help.”

“Wait a second,” I said, pulling out my phone, eager to show him the recorded audio from our last conversation. I navigated to the file and hit play—but nothing happened. I frowned and tried again. Still no sound. I tapped the screen a few more times, but the audio refused to cooperate.

“What’s wrong?” Rehaan asked, noticing my frustration.

“I don’t know. The audio isn’t playing. It worked earlier, but now...” I trailed off, trying again, but it was the same result—silence.

Rehaan shook his head slightly but remained calm. “Don’t worry about it. Send me everything you’ve got—his number, the audio file, any details you can remember. I’ll see what I can dig up. Maybe something will turn up.”

I looked at him gratefully, relieved that he was willing to help. “Thanks, Rehaan. I appreciate it.”

“Manasa is also investigating him,” I mentioned, trying to gauge Rehaan’s reaction. “Actually, I need a favor from you.”

Rehaan looked at me curiously. “What do you need?”

“I want the full investigation report, the postmortem report, and crime scene photos from my dad’s case,” I said, my voice steady despite the heaviness of the request.

Rehaan sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. “You know I can’t just give that to you.”

“I understand, and I know it’s against the protocol,” I replied, “but I’m asking you to make an exception this one time. I just want to know the truth.”

He paused for a moment, clearly weighing his options. “It’s not easy for me to do this. If anyone finds out, we could get in serious trouble.”

“I promise, no one will know,” I assured him, my tone earnest. “This means a lot to me.”

Rehaan sighed again, this time with resignation. “Okay, I’ll get them. But you have to promise me that you’ll keep this under wraps. No one can know about it.”

“Of course,” I replied, relief washing over me. “Thank you, Rehaan. I really appreciate your help.”

He gave me a small, understanding smile. “Just remember, sometimes the truth can be hard to handle. Be prepared for whatever you find.”

“I know,” I said, my voice softening. “But I need to face it. I owe it to my dad.”

Rehaan nodded, the weight of our conversation hanging in the air. “I’ll get them as soon as I can. Just give me a little time.”

“Thank you.

I’ll be waiting,” I said, feeling a sense of determination rising within me.