Copyright © 2025 Anand Kumar Sharma All rights reserved The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
Prologue
Year: 2017
Nestled amidst the verdant foothills of the majestic Garhwal Himalayan range in Uttarakhand, India, lies the enchanting hill station of Mussoorie, often affectionately known as the "Queen of the Hills." A haven of tranquillity, it offers breathtaking panoramic views and a serene escape from the hustle and bustle of urban life. Secluded from the lively heart of Mussoorie, yet embraced by the captivating natural beauty of the Himalayan foothills, stood Sunshine College of Science. Its picturesque setting provided a peaceful and less crowded environment conducive to learning and personal growth. At Sunshine College of Science, the pursuit of knowledge transcended mere rote memorization and the pressures of standardized tests. Academics were envisioned as an exhilarating journey of discovery, intricately interwoven with the awe-inspiring natural world that enveloped the campus. The curriculum encouraged students to explore, question, and connect their learning with the environment around them. The first day of college buzzed with nervous excitement as a new batch of students embarked on their academic journey. Among them was Siddhant, a handsome and intelligent young boy who had successfully cleared the rigorous entrance examination to secure a coveted spot in the computer science engineering program. On this pivotal day, fate introduced him to Rehan and Seema, and an immediate camaraderie blossomed, forging the foundation of a strong friendship. Rehan also became Siddhant's roommate in the college hostel, further solidifying their bond. Later, Manisha joined the college a little late due to unforeseen personal circumstances, which initially placed her at a disadvantage in her studies. Recognizing her potential and the challenges she faced, a compassionate teacher suggested her to seek assistance from Siddhant, who had already established a reputation as a bright and exceptionally helpful student. For Siddhant, Manisha's request felt like a welcome opportunity. He had felt a special connection with her from the moment he first saw her in class, and the prospect of supporting her academic endeavours filled him with quiet anticipation. Soon, Manisha seamlessly integrated into their close-knit group. By a stroke of serendipitous luck, Manisha was allotted the same room in the hostel where Seema resided, further strengthening the bonds within their burgeoning circle. The friendship between Siddhant and Manisha blossomed organically, nurtured by shared interests and mutual respect. As time gracefully passed, their connection deepened, subtly evolving into something more profound than mere friendship. Manisha harboured tender feelings for Siddhant and intuitively sensed a reciprocal affection, yet she patiently waited for him to make the first move, cherishing the unspoken understanding that existed between them.
The passage of time marked their progression into the second year of their engineering studies. This academic milestone also welcomed a fresh influx of students who directly joined the college, having successfully completed their diploma courses. Mona, Mahesh, Sunita, and Vivek were among these new additions, each bringing their unique personalities and experiences to the campus. Mahesh and Sunita arrived at Sunshine College with a pre-existing bond, their hearts already intertwined in a loving relationship that had blossomed during their time at the same diploma college. Vivek, a close companion from their diploma days, also joined them, and it was not long before all three seamlessly integrated into Siddhant's vibrant friend group, enriching its dynamic with their perspectives and camaraderie. For Siddhant, the arrival of Mona brought an unexpected surge of joy. They were cherished school friends, their bond forged over five years of shared laughter, confidences, and unwavering support. Unbeknownst to Siddhant, Mona had long harboured romantic feelings for him but had never found the opportune moment to express them. Siddhant, on the other hand, considered Mona a deeply trusted confidante, someone with whom he could unreservedly share his innermost thoughts and secrets. Even after their paths diverged after school, they diligently maintained their connection, their voices often bridging the distance through long telephone conversations. Siddhant had always confided in Mona, sharing the tapestry of his life with her. However, the preceding months had been challenging for Mona, as she navigated some difficult family issues that had unfortunately disrupted their regular communication. But now, fate had brought them together once more, placing them in the same class and within the embrace of the same close-knit friend group. Rehan and Seema, perceptive observers of the burgeoning connection between Siddhant and Manisha, were both aware of Siddhant's growing affection. With gentle encouragement, they urged him to articulate his feelings to Manisha before the opportune moment slipped away. Meanwhile, Mona had also been meticulously planning to confess her long-held feelings to Siddhant, her heart filled with a mixture of hope and trepidation. However, destiny had a different script in store. Unfortunately, her timing proved to be just a little off. Siddhant, brimming with excitement and a touch of nervousness, confided in Mona that he had fallen deeply in love with Manisha and was determined to propose to her. The revelation struck Mona like a thunderbolt, leaving her utterly shocked and emotionally devastated. Despite the turmoil within, she displayed remarkable composure, masking her profound disappointment and offering Siddhant sincere encouragement to pursue his heart's desire. And then, the anticipated moment arrived. It was the day of the final examination for the third semester, and a palpable sense of relief and excitement filled the air as everyone eagerly looked forward to the upcoming holidays. But before the students dispersed for their well-deserved break, Siddhant finally mustered the courage to reveal his heartfelt feelings to Manisha. To his immense joy and relief, she reciprocated his emotions, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she accepted his unspoken proposal. And just like that, the best of friends embarked on a new chapter as lovers, their bond deepening with a newfound tenderness.
As the academic calendar turned, they all found themselves in their third year of engineering. The group, now comprising Siddhant, Mahesh, Vivek, Rehan, Manisha, Mona, Seema, and Sunita, had become a well-recognized presence within the college community. Whether it was excelling in their studies, demonstrating prowess in sports, or showcasing their talents in cultural activities, their collective brilliance shone through in most endeavours they undertook. Siddhant and Manisha’s love for each other blossomed beautifully, their connection serving as an anchor within the group. Siddhant continued to share a particularly close bond with Mona, Rehan, and Seema, often confiding in them about his joys and concerns. A sense of harmony permeated their lives, and their college experience was characterized by shared laughter, memorable adventures, and the unwavering support of true friendship. Everything seemed to be unfolding in a tapestry of happiness and promise, until one fateful day when an unforeseen tragedy struck, shattering their idyllic world: Vivek was murdered. The vibrant energy of their close-knit group was abruptly replaced by shock, grief, and an unsettling sense of vulnerability, casting a dark shadow over their once carefree college life.
Chapter One: Murder in the library
Year: 2020
The grand reading hall of the college library, usually a sanctuary of hushed whispers and turning pages, was now thick with a heavy, suffocating silence. Vivek lay sprawled on the cold, polished stone floor, his limbs unnaturally still. A sickly blue tinge had begun to creep across his skin, a grim testament to the swift and potent poison that had claimed him. A member of the library staff discovered his lifeless body and promptly alerted the police. It was nearing 6:00 PM when the police inspector Anurag Singh arrived and surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes missing nothing. The sterile environment of the library, the unnatural stillness of the body – it screamed murder. There was no struggle, no sign of forced entry. This was calculated, cold. His assessment indicated that the murder had occurred very recently. Near Vivek’s outstretched hand lay a paperback. “The Love Between Us.” Anurag crouched, his gloved fingers carefully picking it up. As he flipped through the pages, a glint of metal caught his eye. Nestled within the folds, almost invisible against the printed words, were several slender, wickedly sharp pins. Their tips, he surmised, were the likely delivery mechanism for the fatal toxin. Anurag immediately instructed a constable to contact the forensic science laboratory. “Tell Mr. Suresh to get here with all necessary equipment,” he commanded, his voice low and urgent. “We have a body and potential evidence that needs immediate analysis.” Within what felt like a breathless moment, forensic expert Mr. Suresh arrived, his presence a whirlwind of professional efficiency. He meticulously examined the scene, his trained eyes mirroring Anurag’s conclusions. After a preliminary assessment, Suresh confirmed the inspector’s suspicion. “You’re right, Inspector, this death happened about one hour ago” he stated, his voice grave. “The cause of death is a highly potent poison, consistent with injection. These pins,” he carefully extracted one with tweezers, placing it in a sterile container, “were almost certainly the delivery method. A clever, disturbing method.” He shook his head slightly. “This was a smartly done murder. So far, there is not a single obvious clue that screams the killer’s identity.” Mr. Suresh then directed his team, who had followed him into the library with their array of specialized equipment. They moved with quiet efficiency, their presence a stark contrast to the hushed anxiety of the onlookers. The area around Vivek’s body was carefully cordoned off further, and the process of documenting every minute detail began. Photographs were taken from multiple angles, capturing the position of the body, the book, and any other potential trace evidence. Swabs were collected from the floor, the book, and Vivek’s skin, hoping to capture microscopic remnants of the poison or any other foreign substances.
Finally, under Suresh’s watchful eye, the forensic technicians carefully placed Vivek’s body into a body bag. The simple act was a stark reminder of the life that had been extinguished within these walls of knowledge. The bagged body was then gently lifted onto a stretcher, the silence in the library amplifying the soft rustle of the material. The book, along with the collected pins and other potential evidence, were placed in sealed containers, each item tagged and meticulously catalogued. As the forensic team prepared to depart, carrying with them the silent testament to a brutal crime, a heavy silence settled over the library once more. The students and staff watched with a mixture of fear and morbid fascination as the physical remnants of the tragedy were removed. Anurag’s team began the methodical process of securing the scene, taking photographs, and collecting potential evidence. Anurag stepped towards the assembled staff and students, his presence commanding attention. His voice, though calm, held an underlying steel. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his gaze sweeping across their pale faces. “A young boy has been murdered. If anyone here witnessed anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem, please come forward. Your cooperation is crucial.” A wave of nervous murmurs rippled through the crowd. Most students shook their heads, their eyes wide with genuine bewilderment. They claimed to have seen nothing, heard nothing out of the ordinary. The usual quiet hum of the library, it seemed, had masked a deadly act. Siddhant stood amongst a small group of his friends, his face etched with disbelief. He exchanged uneasy glances with them. Like the others, they insisted they knew nothing of the murder itself. The news had hit them like a physical blow, leaving them stunned and unable to articulate much beyond their shock. Anurag observed them all, his experienced gaze lingering on each face. He understood their initial reluctance, the fear of involvement. He shifted his approach. “Alright,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “Perhaps you did not witness the act itself. But think carefully. Had Vivek had any recent serious disagreements? Any heated arguments with anyone? Anything at all that seemed out of the ordinary?” This time, a few students hesitantly raised their hands. A young girl spoke first. “Yes, Sir… a few days ago, at the playground… Vivek and Siddhant had a really bad argument.” A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd, and all eyes turned towards Siddhant, who visibly stiffened. Anurag’s gaze sharpened, locking onto Siddhant. “So, Siddhant,” he said, his voice now carrying a firm edge. “You had an argument with Vivek. What was the reason behind it?” Siddhant swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “It… it was not anything serious, Sir. Just a disagreement about the cricket team captaincy.” Anurag raised a questioning eyebrow. "Just the captaincy? It was described as a 'big argument.' Tell me in proper detail what transpired." He leaned forward slightly, his intent gaze unwavering. The silence in the library, once heavy with shock, now crackled with anticipation, every eye fixed on the young boy who suddenly found himself under the harsh glare of suspicion.
Chapter Two: The Heating in the playground
Three days before the highly anticipated interstate cricket tournament, the atmosphere at Sunshine College of Science was electric. Having clinched victory for the past two years, the college team was rigorously practicing, each player pushing their limits. Among the most dedicated were Siddhant and Vivek, both crucial members of the team. A significant change was in the air this year: the captaincy was up for grabs, and Siddhant and Vivek were the leading contenders. Both possessed the skill and dedication required, but their personalities differed considerably. Ultimately, the coach, Mr. Raghav, made his decision, naming Siddhant as the new captain. His reasoning was clear: Siddhant possessed a remarkable composure under pressure, a calm demeanour that allowed him to strategize and perform even in the most challenging situations. Vivek, on the other hand, was known for his passionate, sometimes volatile nature, occasionally losing focus when the stakes were high. The announcement of Siddhant's captaincy created an immediate rift between the two friends. Vivek felt overlooked and betrayed. Their mutual friends tried to reason with him, emphasizing Siddhant's merits and the coach's rationale, but Vivek was consumed by a sense of injustice. His simmering resentment finally boiled over during a heated confrontation on the familiar grounds of their practice pitch. "What have you done, Siddhant?" Vivek's voice was sharp, laced with accusations. Siddhant, taken aback by the hostility, replied, "What happened, Vivek?" "I wanted to be captain," Vivek retorted, his eyes blazing. "But what did you say to the coach? You must have poisoned his mind. He chose you!" "I didn't say anything, Vivek," Siddhant insisted, his tone even. "Maybe he just thought it was the right decision." "No, I don't believe you," Vivek spat out. "You always play the model student, the goody-twoshoes. You just used that image to your advantage and snatched this opportunity from me." "What the hell are you talking about?" Siddhant's voice rose slightly, a hint of hurt creeping in. "Why would I do that to you? You are my friend. I would never do something so underhanded. How can you even think that?" "Please, don't pretend to be so innocent," Vivek scoffed. "You know you wanted this. You did not play fair." The air crackled with tension. Their teammates watched with unease, their attempts to mediate proving futile against Vivek's raw anger. "I will make sure you don't get to enjoy this captaincy," Vivek declared, his voice filled with a bitter resolve. "I'll work harder, do whatever it takes, good or bad, to take it away from you." Siddhant tried one last time to reason with his friend, his words earnest and pleading. "Vivek, please listen to me. This does not have to come between us. We are a team..."
But Vivek was beyond listening. He turned away, his face, a mask of resentment, leaving Siddhant standing alone, the weight of the captaincy now compounded by the sting of a broken friendship. The upcoming tournament, once a shared dream, now loomed under the shadow of their fractured bond.
Chapter Three: Siddhant Under Suspicion
"This was the crux of our disagreement. That is all there was to it. I honestly do not believe anyone would resort to murder over such a trivial matter," Siddhant stated, his voice laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief as he addressed Inspector Anurag. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, his eyes pleading for understanding. Anurag leaned back in his chair, a wry smile playing on his lips. The small, dimly lit room of the college administration block felt heavy with unspoken accusations. "Siddhant," he began, his voice calm but firm, "in these times, a life can be extinguished for the price of a single rupee. Never underestimate the pettiness that can drive a person to extreme measures." He paused, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "Now, let's stick to the facts. When was the last time you saw the deceased?" Siddhant shifted uncomfortably. "I saw him in our last scheduled class. That ended at three in the afternoon. After that, I went straight back to my hostel room." A shadow crossed his face. "I had been trying to talk to him for days, to sort things out, but he kept avoiding me. He wasn't ready to listen." Anurag's eyebrows rose slightly. "Do you have anyone who can corroborate your presence in the hostel during the crucial time frame? Specifically, between 4:30 PM and 5:30 PM?" Siddhant's shoulders slumped. "No, Sir. My roommate, Rehan, had gone to see a doctor for some health issues around that time. So, he was not there. But," he added quickly, a flicker of hope in his eyes, "the library staff can certainly confirm that I wasn't in the library then. I wasn't anywhere outside the hostel." A thoughtful silence descended upon the room. Then, Siddhant spoke again, a logical furrow in his brow. "And Sir, if what you said is true – that he was murdered by poisoned pins placed in a book – then why would the murderer need to be present at the time of death? Wouldn't it make more sense for them to have done it beforehand, leaving the trap to be sprung later?" Anurag considered this point, his gaze softening slightly. "It's a valid question, Siddhant. It suggests a level of premeditation, perhaps even a desire to witness the outcome. Or perhaps," he mused aloud, more to himself than to Siddhant, "the timing was crucial for some other reason we haven't yet uncovered." He refocused on Siddhant. "Did the deceased have any other known enemies? Anyone else with whom he had significant conflicts?" Siddhant hesitated. "As far as I know, no. He was generally well-liked, if a bit reserved. But honestly, Sir, I cannot be certain. People often keep their true feelings and rivalries hidden." Anurag nodded, acknowledging the truth in Siddhant's words. He then proceeded to question other members of Siddhant's close-knit group, as well as several other students who might have had interactions with the deceased. Each conversation yielded fragments of information, fleeting impressions, and personal opinions, but nothing concrete enough to point towards a definitive suspect or motive beyond the initial argument with Siddhant. The air in the small room remained thick with uncertainty.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to the anxious students, Anurag collected their essential details – names, addresses, phone numbers – meticulously noting each piece of information in his worn leather-bound notebook. With a curt nod, he dismissed them, the weight of the unsolved crime settling heavily in the room. As the last of the students filed out, Anurag leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the closed door. Siddhant's earnestness, coupled with the logical point about the poisoned pins, had planted a seed of doubt in his mind. "Was Siddhant truly the orchestrator?" he murmured to himself, the bustling sounds of the college fading into a distant hum. "Or was he merely a convenient scapegoat? Did the real killer meticulously craft a foolproof plan, ensuring their absence and Siddhant's proximity to the last known argument? Or perhaps... perhaps there was a companion involved, someone pulling the strings from the shadows while Siddhant remained oblivious to the true depth of the malice. Or could it be someone entirely different, someone whose animosity remained hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy?" The possibilities swirled in Anurag's mind, a complex web of potential motives and hidden agendas. The seemingly simple argument between Siddhant and the deceased now felt like a single thread in a much larger, far more intricate tapestry of secrets and lies. The investigation had just begun, and the truth, he knew, would be far more elusive than it initially appeared. He picked up his notebook, the names and details of the students now holding the potential to unlock the mystery behind the poisoned pins and the untimely death. The quiet of the room was deceptive; beneath it lay the simmering tension of a crime waiting to be unravelled.
Chapter Four: Dead Ends and Lingering
Questions The sterile fluorescent lights of the police station hummed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the clutter of files and half-empty coffee cups that adorned Inspector Anurag Singh's desk. The forensic report lay before him, a crisp white sheet bearing the cold, clinical details of Vivek's demise. As he scanned the findings, a familiar sense of frustration began to gnaw at him. The report confirmed his initial deductions: the cause of death was indeed a potent neurotoxin, delivered through minute punctures consistent with poisoned pins. There were no signs of struggle, no other discernible wounds, and frustratingly, no fingerprints beyond those of the victim in the book itself. With a sigh, Anurag pushed the report aside. He had hoped for stray hair, a fibre of fabric, anything that could offer a tangible lead. But the killer had been meticulous, leaving behind a scene as clean and devoid of clues as a freshly wiped slate. He then turned his attention to the digital map displayed on his computer screen. It was a patchwork of coloured dots, each representing the last known mobile location of the students whose details he had collected from the college. Hours had been spent meticulously tracing their movements during the crucial window of 4:30 PM to 5:30 PM, the estimated time of Vivek's death. A cluster of dots indicated students who were miles away from the college campus, their alibis seemingly solid. Others were within the vicinity, their phones pinging off cell towers near their homes or other parts of the city. Those who were geographically close to the library had credible witnesses placing them far from Vivek during that critical hour. Anurag rubbed his tired eyes. Each potential lead dissolved into thin air, leaving him with a growing sense of hitting a brick wall. The neat, logical progression he usually relied upon in his investigations was proving elusive in this case. The killer, it seemed, had either been incredibly lucky or possessed a chilling level of foresight. He leaned back in his chair, the silence of the station broken only by the rhythmic tapping of a keyboard from a nearby desk. "A full proof plan," he muttered, echoing his thoughts from the previous evening. The precision of the poisoned pins, the lack of any struggle, the absence of any obvious witnesses – it all pointed towards a carefully orchestrated act. But the question remained: had the killer acted alone, a solitary figure weaving a web of deceit? Or was there an unseen hand guiding the events, a companion who had played a crucial role in the execution of this deadly scheme? The thought of a collaborator sent a shiver down his spine. It would complicate matters exponentially, adding another layer of secrecy to an already perplexing puzzle.
He considered Siddhant again. His initial defensiveness was understandable, given the argument, but his logical point about the timing of the poison still resonated. Could Siddhant be genuinely innocent, a pawn in someone else's game? Or was this all a clever misdirection? Could the killer be someone entirely unexpected, someone who had managed to stay completely under the radar during his initial inquiries? The victim, Vivek, had been described as reserved, not one to make overt enemies. Yet, as Anurag knew all too well, animosity could fester silently, hidden beneath a calm exterior. The weight of the unsolved mystery pressed down on him. He knew that solving this case would require more than just forensic evidence and mobile phone locations. It would demand a deeper understanding of the intricate relationships within the college, the hidden resentments, and the secrets that lay buried beneath the surface of seemingly ordinary lives. He picked up the list of students again, his gaze lingering on each name. Somewhere within this seemingly innocuous collection of individuals lay the key to unlocking the truth. The challenge now was to find it before the killer vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only the lingering ghost of a life tragically cut short. Anurag Singh understood one thing with stark clarity: this was not going to be easy. Not at all.
Chapter Five: A Classroom Heavy with Grief
The last bell of the day had rung, its metallic clang echoing through the otherwise deserted corridors of the college. But in one classroom, a small group lingered, their usual boisterous energy replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence. Siddhant and his closest friends remained huddled together, their faces etched with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. The vibrant posters on the walls, usually a backdrop to lively discussions and shared laughter, now seemed to mock their sombre mood. Rehan, Siddhant's roommate, broke the oppressive quiet, his voice a low murmur. "Who could have done this to him? It just doesn't make any sense." He ran a hand through his already tousled hair, his eyes reflecting the bewilderment that hung in the air. Seema, usually the most outspoken of the group, spoke softly, her gaze distant. "He had a temper, that's true. He could get worked up easily. But... this? This level of malice? I can't imagine him pushing anyone to such an extreme." A shiver ran down her spine despite the warm afternoon sun filtering through the classroom windows. Siddhant sat hunched over his desk, his gaze fixed on a random doodle on the worn wooden surface. A wave of guilt washed over him, sharp and bitter. "Maybe... maybe it was my fault," he choked out, the words heavy with self-reproach. "I should have just let him have the captaincy of the team. It was not worth all the arguing. At least then... maybe he wouldn't have been so angry." He looked up, his eyes filled with a desperate kind of logic. "Maybe he lashed out at someone else because of his frustration with me, and that unknown person... they planned this revenge against him." The thought, though unsettling, offered a twisted kind of explanation, a way to make sense of the senseless. Manisha, ever the voice of reason and comfort, reached out and placed a gentle hand on Siddhant's arm. "Don't blame yourself, Siddhant," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You couldn't have known. And honestly, who uses poisoned pins? It is... it is something out of a bad dream. No one could have predicted this. What's done is done, and as much as it hurts, maybe... maybe it was just his fate." The words, though meant to console, hung in the air, offering little real comfort against the stark reality of their loss. After Manisha's attempt to soothe Siddhant's guilt, the silence returned, heavier and more profound than before. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts, grappling with the sudden void that Vivek's absence had created. The familiar classroom, a place of learning and camaraderie, now felt tainted, haunted by the ghost of their departed friend. The unanswered questions swirled around them like a suffocating fog, leaving them adrift in a sea of sorrow and confusion. The carefree days of college now seemed distant and fragile, shattered by the brutal intrusion of a reality they could not comprehend. They sat there, not as students anymore, but as mourners, bound together by grief and the chilling uncertainty of what the future held.
To be continued...
