She was found on the bathroom floor. Her mother was standing over her, dry hands, steady eyes, and four words already prepared. I killed our Disha. Inspector Collins has heard confessions before. This one doesn't sound like guilt. It sounds like a decision. The deeper he goes, the stranger the silence becomes. A girl who was loved most. And a family that looked entirely ordinary from the outside. Someone buried something in the foundations of this house long before the night it collapsed. Collins can feel the shape of it. He just can't see it yet. The question is not who killed Disha. The question is: how long ago did it begin?
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