Synopsis

Dust motes danced in the weak sunlight filtering through the grimy windows. The air inside was thick with the scent of decay and something else, something metallic and unsettling. Anita’s words echoed in the stillness: missing valuables, a sudden death. They moved through the house, each room a silent testament to a life abruptly ended. Photographs, scattered haphazardly on a dusty table, offered a glimpse into Raghavendra's world. One image, in particular, caught their attention – a pict