The canal had been quiet all morning, or at least that's what people claimed.
But quiet in Vishrampur was never truly quiet. Even when the water didn't move, even when the air above it felt still, there was always a sense that something lived beneath.
People said the ripples came from fish, or maybe from plastic bags floating under the surface. Children dared each other to throw stones in, to see what would stir. But grown men kept their distance. The canal had a way of swallowing things whole: bicycles, cattle, even memories.
That morning, Vishrampur carried the memory of what the police had done the night before.
Patel Bazar buzzed with whispers, the sort of whispers that never stayed contained. Women buying vegetables told each other that the constables pulled a body from the towpath, wrapped it in a sheet, and carted it away before sunrise.
Men sipping tea at roadside stalls argued about whether the app predicted it or created it. Nobody agreed, but nobody stopped talking either.
Sai kept his head low as he moved through the bazaar with Veer and Rhea.
He hated how everyone was speaking with certainty, as if they all suddenly knew the canal's secrets. He didn't want certainty. He wanted silence.
"This is how fear spreads," Veer muttered beside him. "One man says it, the rest repeat it, and by evening it becomes truth."
Sai nodded, though his chest felt tight. He wanted to believe Veer's words, but the image of pale shapes beneath the canal's surface wouldn't leave his mind.
Rhea walked a step ahead, her notebook in hand. She scribbled as she listened to the gossip, pausing only to press people for details.
"Was it a man or a woman?" she asked an older shopkeeper. "Did anyone know her name?"
The man shook his head, impatient. "Don't poke around, girl. Some things are best left alone."
Rhea didn't flinch. She wrote down every word as if it mattered.
Sai's jaw tightened. He didn't like her tone, her insistence that more questions would bring answers. Didn't she see the way people looked at them? Already, half the bazaar seemed to notice they were always together, always listening.
He didn't want attention. Not from the town. Not from the app. Not from anyone.
…
They left Patel Bazar and followed the road that bent past Janki Ram Temple.
Its bells rang faintly, echoing into the canal's direction. Women walked up the temple steps with brass pots of milk and marigold garlands, ignoring the stench of stagnant water that drifted from the towpath below.
The canal curled past Nehru Nagar after that, its broken railings leaning like crooked teeth.
"People are saying it was a woman from Nehru Nagar," Rhea said quietly. "Missing for days. Some swear StarCode told her family to stay away from the water."
Sai winced. "And yet she went."
Rhea glanced back at him. "Don't you want to know why?"
Her voice cut through him like a needle.
He wanted to answer but couldn't. Veer stepped between them again, his hand brushing Sai's shoulder, steadying.
…
When they reached the canal, it looked the same as always.
Muddy water. Broken bottles floating against the current. The faint smell of rot.
But for Sai, nothing was the same. His chest ached with each breath. He stared at the surface, at the faint shimmer of light bouncing against it.
Two constables stood near the yellow tape, their rifles slung lazily over their shoulders. They spoke in hushed tones, but the wind carried fragments to where Sai stood.
"…not supposed to talk…"
"…frozen stiff, like ice in her blood…"
"…StarCode knew before anyone did…"
Rhea tried to step closer, but one of the constables waved her off sharply. "Go home, girl. This isn't your business."
She frowned. "If there was a body here, people deserve to know."
"Deserve nothing," the constable snapped. "Get out before I drag you."
Sai pulled at her arm. "Let's just leave."
Rhea yanked her hand free, glaring at him. "Why are you so afraid of questions?"
The words struck him harder than she intended.
He clenched his jaw, swallowing the reply burning on his tongue. He didn't want to explain that the questions weren't what scared him. It was the answers.
…
They moved away from the police tape, circling toward the quieter stretch of the towpath.
The canal stretched endlessly, its dark water sucking in the reflections of the trees overhead.
Veer tossed a stone into it, watching the ripples spread. "Looks the same as always," he said, though his voice carried little conviction.
Sai crouched near the bank, his eyes fixed on the shifting water.
For a moment, he thought he saw it again, the pale blur beneath the surface, too large to be a fish, too still to be floating plastic.
His heart thudded in his chest.
He blinked, and it was gone.
Rhea noticed the way he froze. "What is it?"
"Nothing." His voice came out sharper than he intended.
"Don't lie, Sai. You saw something."
"I said it's nothing!"
His shout startled even him. A pair of crows scattered from the railing, cawing into the air.
Rhea stepped back, her face hard.
Veer quickly moved closer to Sai, crouching beside him. "Hey, it's fine. Forget it. Let's just go, alright?"
Sai's breath came uneven, his fingers digging into the mud. He didn't move until Veer pulled him up gently.
…
They walked back in silence.
The bazaar seemed louder now, every voice pricking Sai's ears.
Rumors chased them down the lanes. Some said the body was cursed, others swore it was punishment for ignoring the app.
Children whispered that the canal could speak if you listened long enough.
By the time they reached Sai's house, the sun was slipping low, bleeding orange light across the rooftops.
His mother was in the courtyard, wringing out clothes. She barely looked at him when he walked past.
He shut himself in his room, heart still hammering.
…
The night pressed heavy on his chest.
Veer dropped by later, carrying food his mother had packed.
They sat on the rooftop, the fog rising faintly from the canal's direction.
"You can't let it eat you alive," Veer said softly. "It's just an app. It doesn't know everything."
Sai stared at the fog. "It knew about the canal."
"Or it tricked people into believing it knew."
Sai didn't answer.
The fog thickened, curling like fingers across the rooftops.
He thought he heard the faint sound of dripping water again, though there were no taps here.
Veer nudged him with a half-smile. "We'll figure it out together. Don't let her get under your skin."
Sai looked at him, then nodded faintly.
…
Later, when he lay in bed, sleep did not come.
His eyes stayed open, following the cracks on the ceiling.
The sound of water echoed faintly, as if someone were pouring from a jug nearby.
He sat up sharply, but the room was empty.
His phone buzzed.
The screen lit the darkness.
*The canal waits. Do not look away.*
Sai's breath caught.
He turned toward the window, where the fog pressed against the glass.
For a moment, in the haze, he thought he saw a figure standing by the canal.
Tall. Still. Watching.
He blinked, and the fog swallowed it whole.
But the feeling stayed, thick in his chest.
The canal was not done with him. Not yet.