Ishaq had scribbled down every possible suspect in his old leather-bound notebook. Red ink marked the timings. Blue circled names. Arrows, question marks, and underlines filled the pages like the web of a spider—obsessive, detailed, and intense. He wasn't a detective. Not officially. But when the daughter of one of the richest men in the city was found murdered near the hillside, his instincts kicked in. Something wasn't adding up. And Ishaq had to know why.
He managed to convince Neil—his best friend and a naturally skeptical soul—to join his amateur investigation. After an hour of flipping through the timeline and connecting dots in the notebook, Neil finally sighed and said, "Alright, let's see where this goes. But if we die, I'm haunting you."
The name that kept popping up? The security guard.
Next morning, the duo went straight to the man's house. He lived up the hill, in a tightly-packed, quiet community that overlooked the city. Despite his small house, the man lived surprisingly well—he owned a decent car, had the latest fridge, a high-end washing machine, and even a smart TV. For someone working as a guard, alone, and with no visible side income—it didn't make sense.
Their first attempt at conversation went sideways fast. The man was hot-headed, impatient, and borderline hostile.
"We just want to talk," Ishaq said casually.
"You boys got a death wish or what? Go play detective somewhere else!" he growled, slamming the gate shut.
But Ishaq wasn't giving up that easily. They spoke to his neighbors and observed his house from a distance. They learned that the man had Wednesdays off—the very night the girl was killed. His home, surrounded by forest and overrun by rats, was barely 10 minutes from the murder site.
Even more suspicious? His story changed every time.
First, he said he was with family. But the man lived alone.
Next time, he claimed he was at the bar with friends. The inconsistency added fuel to Ishaq's theory.
They took all their findings straight to Mr. Lim, Neil's uncle and a retired investigator. Lim flipped through the notebook, eyes narrowing, impressed yet concerned.
"You boys really did all this?" he asked.
"Yeah," Ishaq said, "but we need someone official. Someone with authority."
Mr. Lim agreed to step in unofficially. That night, they returned to the guard's house. Mr. Lim entered to talk while the boys waited outside, hearts pounding with anticipation.
After the interrogation, Mr. Lim walked out and said nothing.
They headed to the local bar the guard had mentioned. Ishaq expected to prove a lie—but to his surprise, the bartender remembered the man well. The guard had been there with two friends the entire evening. Security footage backed it up. He wasn't the killer.
And then it hit them—he was just an old man with a bad memory, living alone, spending what little he had to make his life a little better. His aggression was likely just frustration... or fear.
Ishaq felt crushed. His theory, his research, his bold confidence—it all led to a dead end.
The next morning, he returned to apologize to the man in person.
The guard opened the door, saw Ishaq, and just gave a grunt.
"I'm sorry," Ishaq said, "for doubting you."
The man stared at him a long time before simply replying, "Don't go poking your nose where it doesn't belong, kid. It might get bitten off."
Later, Mr. Lim patted Ishaq's shoulder. "You've got something rare, kid. The instinct to dig deeper. But digging too far into other people's graves might just land you in one. If things get risky—promise me you'll stop."
Ishaq nodded. "I promise."
"Alright boys," Lim said as they left, "the sun's down. Go home. It's not safe to be on the streets these days."
The next morning, Ishaq skipped class to help Neil at his part-time job. The shop was quiet. A soft breeze rustled the newspapers outside. Inside, the TV was on, playing in the background as they organized boxes.
And then—the screen changed.
A bold red banner scrolled across the bottom.
BREAKING NEWS: Body of teenage boy found near local lake.
Neil froze. Ishaq looked up.
"The victim has been identified as a student from City University. Sources say the boy had gone missing two nights ago. His body was discovered early this morning by a fisherman. Authorities are treating the case as a possible homicide…"
The air thickened.
Neil's hand trembled. Ishaq felt his stomach drop.
"This marks the second murder in less than a week. Fear spreads among the students as police refuse to confirm whether the two cases are connected."
A second murder. A teenage boy. Same university. Same city.
Ishaq turned to Neil, voice barely above a whisper.
"…It's not over."