??? POV (Third person point of view)

  The police arrived a few hours after neighbors reported a massive column of smoke coming from a nearby house. When they arrived, the scene before them was horrific. A man y lifeless on the ground. He had been dead long before they reached the scene. Pieces of debris and gss were stuck on his body, his skin and face torn. It seemed that the debris from the colpsed house had fallen on top of him. What was even more unnerving was the fact that 15 bullets had been fired into his body, targeting his head, heart, and other vital areas. Someone wwanted him dead, badly. The sheer excessiveness of the gunfire was clear-he had been shot directly in the head, making the other shots unnecessary.

  "Sir... I think... I recognize this man," one of the officers said to his sergeant, his voice shaking slightly from the cold outside and the gruesome scene before them.

  "Who is it, and how do you know him?" the sergeant asked, his eyes still locked on the scene as he took in every detail he possibly could.

  The officer took a shaky breath. "Dr. Zoshant." He paused, swallowing before continuing, "He and the other doctors treated my kid just yesterday, sir."

  "Can I say something?" the sergeant interrupted, his voice quieter than before.

  The officer looked up, confused. "What is it, sir?"

  "I also recognize this man," the sergeant replied, his face a mask of pure disbelief. "But I was hoping I was wrong. I didn't want to know until I heard from the forensics team."

  The officer looked at him, guilt fshing across his face. "I’m sorry, sir... I didn’t mean-"

  The sergeant cut him off, his tone heavy and thoughtful. "I know. It’s just… I can’t believe it. Not him of all people."

  "Sir, I-"

  The sergeant raised a hand, cutting him off once more, but this time with authority. "He had a son. Look for any signs of him. Don’t touch anything-fingerprints are valuable."

  The officer nodded quickly, rallying his group. "You heard the sergeant! Move!"

  The officers secured the scene, carefully looking for any trace of the son, but there was no sign of him.

  "No sign of him?" the sergeant asked, frustrated.

  "No, unfortunately not, sir," one of the officers replied.

  "Dang it..." the sergeant muttered under his breath. "Everyone, clear the area. Make sure no one enters for the night. Establish the perimeter, document everything... and..." He looked at the body once more, then turned away quickly. "We will call the forensic team and investigators as soon as possible."

  "Yes, sir," the officers responded immediately.

  The sergeant sighed, the weight of the situation sinking in. It was going to be a long night. To make things worse, the son was nowhere to be found-no body, no trace. Just the father’s body left behind.

  As the officers continued their work, the sergeant’s eyes wandered to a picture on the floor on the kitchen countertops. It was a photo of a young boy, a beautiful mother, and a smiling father. They were all hugging each other tightly with warmth and love. The sergeant quickly turned away, unwilling to feel the pain in his chest. He knew that the mother had passed away years ago, and it was the father who had raised the boy alone. Seeing the photo made the scene even darker and more tragic. The weight of what had just occurred hit him hard, harder than he cared to admit.

  ??? POV (Third person point of view)

  A man sat in his office within his own home. The room was filled with dark brown bookshelves stacked high with countless books, the scent of old paper hanging in the air. A grey desk was cluttered with an endless array of files and paperwork, some neatly stacked, others scattered carelessly. Investigator Rond didn't want to go today. For a moment, he wished he could pass the responsibility onto another investigator instead of taking it on himself.

  Why?

  Because today, he had just learned from the police that his daughter’s best friend's father had been killed. A man he personally knew, and one he owed a debt to. A good man with whom he had shared meals with his own family. And now, the son-his daughter’s best friend-was nowhere to be found. The public didn’t know who had died yet, but they would soon, whether it be a few hours or in a few days. As Rond rubbed his face with both hands, he heard a voice behind him.

  “Honey?”

  Rond turned around to see his wife, Luna. Her face was solemn, her expression betraying her concern.

  “Is it… true? I couldn’t help but overhear-”

  Rond’s heart dropped. He knew he couldn’t hide it from his wife.

  He took a deep breath and hesitated before speaking. “Dr. Zoshant is dead. And Decn… Decn is missing.”

  Luna didn’t gasp or say anything. The look on her face was enough to describe the grief and worry consuming her.

  “How do I tell our daughter? How do I...”

  Rond’s face hardened, and he sighed. “Honey… I… I will tell her, but not now. Right now, I can’t—”

  But before he could finish, they both heard a voice they didn’t want to hear—at least, not right now.

  “I already heard everything you know, Dad.”

  Ena stepped out from the hallway. She had straight hair, a mix of brown and bck, though the brown dominated with streaks of bck running through it. She wore a bck and green jacket, paired with short bck pants, and at fifteen years old, her hazel eyes seemed to reflect a determination and bravery beyond her years.

  "Good ears, remember?" Ena spoke quietly, but her tone was firm.

  "Ena, I-"

  But Ena interrupted. “Drop it, Dad. You’re bringing me along.”

  "But Ena-"

  "No buts, Dad! You're taking me to the crime scene."

  Rond sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ena, this isn’t—”

  Suddenly, Ena raised her voice. “I KNOW! I KNOW! It’s not my first time seeing a dead body, Dad! This is my best friend we’re talking about! His dad just got murdered! Actually, scratch that. He was definitely murdered. Of course I have to go with you!”

  Luna sighed and looked at her husband. “Ena is stubborn, dear. You might as well bring her along. Otherwise, she’ll find a way to skip school and go straight to their house anyway.”

  Rond sighed again. He already knew his daughter’s stubborn nature.

  He composed himself and turned to Ena. “Alright, fine. But no touching anything, okay?”

  “Yes, Dad. I know,” Ena said, her tone serious.

  Rond gnced at Luna. “And take care of Valeria, dear. She’s too young to know anything about this.”

  “Yes, I know. I’ll tell Valeria that you and Ena are having a parent-teacher conference as an excuse.”

  “Good. Now that we’ve got that cleared…” Rond motioned toward Ena. “Let’s go.”

  Ena quickly exited the house and ran toward Rond’s car parked outside. Rond sighed deeply. Luna, however, was deep in thought.

  “Dear… I think it’s a good idea to bring Ena.”

  Rond raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

  “Because Ena knows Decn better than anyone.”

  “But still… what does that have to do with-”

  Suddenly, Luna smiled-a mysterious, knowing smile.

  “I think you’ll find out soon, dear.”

  Rond raised his eyebrows in curiosity, but he didn’t doubt his wife’s instincts. She was smart and perceptive, able to pick up on things he didn’t always catch. He didn’t question her any further and simply nodded. With that, he walked toward the car, where Ena was already waiting.