How did this happen? Why can't I even cry? Brother… was it really you?
"Ata, wake up," Mithya whispered within the story. "You have to get yourself together. Sara needs you. You know he couldn't have done this."
Voices whispered around Ata:
Sara killed Roy. Why?
Don't know. He was such a sweet boy. May his soul rest in peace.
Ata collapsed.
When she woke, she was in a hospital bed.
"We need your statement," said a police officer.
I feel like I'm dying, Ata thought. My fiancé is dead. My only family—my brother—is in jail.
"I want to meet my brother," she said hoarsely.
"We understand," said another officer gently. "Sara and Roy were inseparable. Never even argued."
"Yet all the evidence points to Sara," the first officer added grimly. "And it was brutal."
"Officers," the doctor interrupted, "please don't speak of such trauma in front of her. She's not stable."
"Sorry," they muttered. "Old habit. We always spoke about cases in front of Ata."
"Ata," one tried again, "we really need your statement."
"I don't know what's happening…" she began, then broke down in sobs.
"Where is Sara? Let me see him, please!"
She fainted.
A week passed.
People distanced themselves from us. The same aunties who once insisted they wanted a son-in-law like Sara now whispered behind my back. So despicable…
Ata finally received permission to visit her brother in the asylum.
A doctor greeted her at the gates. "He's inside."
Sara's eyes lit up when he saw her.
"Please let me go," he begged. "I'm not schizophrenic. You believe me, don't you? I've never lied to you."
"Listen to me—closely. They're close. I can feel them. Gruesome creatures. They enjoy pain. Please—turn off the lights. I can't take it anymore."
Ata hesitated. "I'm sorry, I don't know what else to do."
"Light is their power source," Sara whispered. "Darkness is empty—you can't pull energy from it. But light? Light can be harvested."
"I don't want to be here anymore. Please. Just tell them to let me go."
Ata trembled. "Let him go," she said. "I believe him. Maybe those things exist. Even if it sounds absurd, maybe he's telling the truth."
"Do you hear yourself?" the doctor snapped. "There was no window in that room. Only two people entered. One died. If he's not insane, then he's guilty of premeditated murder."
"I don't care," Ata replied firmly. "I trust him."
"Go home," the doctor sighed.