As he flipped through the pages, he almost dropped the folder in alarm. There were crime scene photos, black and white, depicting a man sprawled on a ...arpet. His vest was stained with what was presumably blood, his eyes open, glassy and vacant.He set the folder down on the table and pulled out another. It was similar to the first, a surname written on it in pen, its contents detailing another wrongful death. This one described a suicide by gunshot, Ethan’s heart beginning to beat faster with. After a few minutes, she got up and pulled the magazine from my hand. I looked at her querying.Shobha: I am afraid….. Sri.Me: why?Shobha: You don’t have any worry about your son.Me: Why? What happened?Shobha: don’t you see. He used to be at home previously but now I rarely see him. He is not even talking to me. I don’t know why…….he stopped coming to us from that night….I didn’t understand her words. I am fine with her asking him to be at home but I could not get her on about raghu not coming. More

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