Port side Police Station…
The night was heavy with the scent of rain as dark clouds loomed overhead. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the heavens finally gave way to an unrelenting downpour. The street lights flickered, casting a dim glow over the drenched pavement.
Vikram Das stepped out of the police station with a cold face. His dark silhouette stood motionless at the roofline where the rainwater poured in steady streams, forming a curtain before him.
Droplets trickled down his face, yet he remained still, allowing the cool rain to wash over him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as if testing his own patience. He had just walked out of a certain crime, yet all evidence had crumbled to dust.
Behind him, hurried footsteps echoed through the station entrance. The Deputy Commissioner came running, his polished boots splashing through puddles. "Young Master Vikram!" he called out, his voice laced with urgency.
Das turned his head slightly but said nothing.
