Priya's POV: 

Through the open window, the blazing rays of Mumbai sun found their way into my bedroom. They landed right on my face, successfully erasing the last vestiges of slumber from my consciousness. I awoke and rubbed my eyes sleepily. Everything had been so stressful the day before and the exhaustion from it had caused me to sleep for some extra hours. When I was about to get up and walk to the bathroom, I saw something on my table. I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding louder than I could fathom. 

It was a Vendetta mask. 

'Who the hell kept it there?' I thought.

I noticed an envelope beside it, indicating the presence of a letter. However, when I unlatched the envelope with trembling fingers, it was empty. My breath left me in a rush and I frowned. I stood up, wanting to investigate.

Someone had undoubtedly broken in and I clearly remembered closing the window before going to bed the night before. I went down to take a look at my house. There were no signs of trespassing or robbery. Everything was just how I had left it yesterday. It was clear that the intruder hadn't come to steal anything. He came to deliver the letter and mask. When I returned to my room I eyed the mask warily. I reached out and grabbed it, hoping to find a clue as to why the intruder had left the mask there. Suddenly a searing pain shot up my hand as if it were burning, making me groan. I dropped the mask immediately and examined my hand. It had been charred, burnt terribly. A small container was hidden beneath the mask and some kind of liquid was seeping out of it. Acid?

The pain in my hand grew to a point where it was so agonising that I let out a little sob.

I needed to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. I was going to leave the house when I realised my right hand had been burned. I couldn't drive in this condition. 

Shit! 

Kashi was in Bangalore for a business meeting and was going to return the day after. It was still early in the morning, so I couldn't call anyone from the department. Suddenly, a face popped into my mind.

'I can call him,' I decided and dialled his number. I waited impatiently for him to answer. I didn't have to wait too long.

"Hey, Priya. Good morning," he greeted me in a baritone. It was clear that he'd been sleeping a few seconds back. "Is anything wrong?" I felt bad for waking him up.

"I am sorry for waking you up, but can you please come over to my place urgently?" I asked. I almost dropped my phone when I switched it to my right and almost threw it back to my left. Old habits die hard.

"What happened, Priya? Are you okay?" he questioned, his voice quivering with concern.

"I need you to take me somewhere urgently, Neil," I pleaded. I didn't want to worry him by telling him that I got hurt. I knew he would drive to my place in too much of a hurry and end up crashing his car somewhere along the way.

"Ten minutes, Priya," he whispered seriously. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Just wait, okay?" 

Neil arrived at my place in five minutes.

He was still dressed in his pyjamas, a grey shirt and Looney Tune pants, and his hair was messed up. He appeared to have just brushed his teeth and rinsed his face. His gaze travelled to my right hand, which I was clutching to my chest, with a frown and his eyes widened. He swiftly seized my left hand in his and led me to my car. In the blink of an eye, we were in front of the city's best hospital. 

'Did he fly the fucking car?'

Neil approached the receptionist and shoved his black card in her face. He instructed her to bring the best doctor available as quickly as possible. Mr. Mukherji, an elderly man in his late fifties wearing a white coat and stethoscope, appeared in no time. He promptly led me into his room to examine my hand. My hand had turned brown and inflamed. My skin was severely burned.

"Can you explain to me how this happened?" Mr Mukherji inquired, his attention darting between me and my hand. Neil stood by me, his hand on my shoulders, squeezing them whenever I winced. He appeared to be more terrified than I was. I informed Mr Mukherji of what had occurred in the morning.

"It was an acid." He confirmed and added, "Don't worry, nothing serious. I know it looks bad but the acid was a mild one. So the burn will get cured very soon, only if you take care. There will be few marks left, however, in a month they will also fade away." I nodded and thanked him. 

I was on my way to the station from the hospital. Neil was continuously reminding me to be cautious. He was very concerned and it clearly showed. As the doctor had sternly forbidden me from driving, Neil agreed to be my escort for the time being. I point out that he made that decision on his own.

He wouldn't believe me when I stated that I'd take care of myself. He wouldn't even let me pay the bill, telling me that I could pay it by taking him out to dinner, which I laughed at. I knew he was joking, and that he wouldn't let me pay there either. I stared out the window and reflected on what had happened this morning.

'Someone did this on purpose. Could it be the killer?'

Neil dropped me at the station and told me he'd pick me up at four o'clock in the evening so we could go pick up Nila. Her summer vacation started today. She was so excited to come back home and so was I. When I informed Neil I had a daughter, he was taken aback. But he quickly told me that he was proud to have me as a friend. There was sadness in the line, especially when he said 'friend.' I wanted to tell him that I wasn't her biological mother but for some reason, I didn't. I was curious to see how this would play out.

I ran into Arjun on my way to my office and we merely nodded in acknowledgement. We hadn't talked again after Saturday night. I went through a few files, looking for new information about the serial killer. The media flooded their own theories and put pressure on us. I needed to find the killer as soon as possible. If he was the one who kept the mask and letter in my room, he knew where I lived. My life was in danger and Nila was also returning home. 

'I should arrest him before he does something brutal,' I thought to myself. Hell, I wasn't even sure whether the person who had killed the two women and the one who'd put up the show at my house in the morning were even the same people. If they weren't, I had two foes lurking in the shadows.

But whoever it was, they had the perfect opportunity to kill me while I was sleeping.

'So why did they do it?'

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Author's POV:

(In the afternoon)

The sun was burning harshly as if reflecting his anger. On the Mumbai-Pune highway, the young man was waiting. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead. His shaved cheeks, brushed-back hair, and rimless glasses, together with the striped terry-cot shirt and black gabardine pants, gave him the appearance of an executive.

He saw her approaching in the car. He fished out a folded Mumbai map from his pocket and flagged the engineer's car. He began by asking for directions but quickly turned the conversation into a solicitation for oral sex. 

To sink the hook, he showed a bundle of cash. The young lady, who clearly wanted to make some extra cash on the side, requested him to sit in the passenger seat. He agreed, but not before opening the rear door and dumping his backpack on the seat. Only a close observer would notice that, despite the fact that the bag appeared to be full and bursting out, it wasn't overly heavy.

This was due to the backpack being loaded with old newspapers and plastic bubble-wrap sheets, which the young man would later use to sponge up the blood and wrap the severed head of the engineer turned escort. This was his third victim, and he was determined to prove his existence to the world now.

Mumbai's morning was going to be horror-stricken tomorrow. 

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