NEVER AGAIN ??

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The team reached the crime spot , Inside the warehouse, the air was growing heavier. Not just from the decay, but from the strange absence of clues.  Everything looked...too clean. Too perfect.

Raghav, sleeves rolled, gloves on, scanned every inch with a meticulous eye. From the rusting beams  to the oil-stained floor, nothing stood out.

Nothing obvious, at least.

Until his boots crunched over something unusual near a broken wooden crate.

He crouched down, brushing the dust away. A small, half-burnt diary, its pages curled and blackened at the edges, lay hidden behind the crate. Its leather cover was cracked, and the faint name etched on it sent a spark through him.

"Latha."

Raghav's brows furrowed. He carefully slid the diary into an evidence bag, sealed it, and marked the time and location.

 "Who the hell is Latha ?" he muttered, eyes narrowing.

He stepped outside the warehouse. The sun was now overhead, casting sharp shadows across the dry ground. The media frenzy had been pushed farther back by now. But Raghav wasn't done.

The surrounding area was semi-rural, flanked by dry maize fields and abandoned scrap yards.

He walked along the edge, boots brushing over dry grass and plastic wrappers. A few forensic staff trailed behind but kept their distance, letting him follow his instincts.

That's when he saw it.

Something dark and crumpled, sticking out oddly between the maize stalks about twenty feet away.

A small black duffle bag,  half-buried under dead leaves.

Raghav's gaze sharpened. He strode toward it, squatted down, and pulled the bag free.

It was zipped halfway, and dust-covered. He opened it carefully with a gloved hand.

Inside were:

A blood-stained woman's shawl

A cheap phone with a shattered screen

Several burnt ID cards , barely readable, but some names were partially visible

 A folded, crumpled newspaper clipping with a headline:

"15 MISSING, POLICE YET TO FIND LEADS"

But the most chilling was a photo tucked into a side pocket.

A group photo, possibly taken a few years ago. All 15 victims, now confirmed by facial recognition, stood smiling in what appeared to be a mental health rehabilitation centre.

At the back stood a woman in a white coat, her face half visible.

Latha ?

Raghav pocketed the bag in another evidence kit, his mind racing.

This wasn't just some serial killer's stash.

This looked like someone had been documenting, tracking, and maybe even punishing.

"Rithu !" he called, and she jogged toward him.

"Find out if any of the victims had ties to psychiatric care. Especially any Doctor named Latha involved with them."

Rithu nodded, stunned at what he found.

Raghav looked back once at the warehouse. The answers were buried in the silence and now, maybe, also in the ashes of a burnt diary.