It had been five years since Senior Inspector Nelakhant Swami first walked into the CID bureau wearing that crisp white shirt and black pants. Five years since his unblinking eyes and razor-sharp deductions had begun to turn the tide of cases before criminals even realized they'd been caught.
A lot had changed.
The old CID headquarters still stood, but there was a warmth in the air now—a strange mix of domestic happiness and the constant hum of danger that only the CID could balance.
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CID Bureau – Morning
The door swung open and Swami stepped in, the faintest smile on his face. His black blazer now had a subtle crease on the shoulder where one of his children had clung to him earlier that morning, refusing to let go until he promised to come home for dinner.
Purvi, now Mrs. Purvi Swami, worked on the computer, efficiently scanning through the latest forensic reports. She looked up at him with the ease of a woman who had solved countless cases at his side and managed countless bedtimes at home.
"Breakfast was waiting for you, but you ran off like a fugitive again," Purvi teased.
"Criminals don't wait for idli-sambar, Purvi," Swami replied dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
Two photos sat on her desk—one of their 4-year-old daughter, Aarya, with a mischievous grin, and the other of their 2-year-old son, Arjun, who had somehow inherited his father's piercing gaze.
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Across the room, Abhijeet entered, holding two cups of coffee. Behind him was Dr. Tarika—now his wife—chatting with Daya.
Abhijeet and Tarika had adopted Shreya two years ago, after a complicated case that had shaken them to the core. The young woman, once lost in the shadows, now called them "Mom" and "Dad" with pride.
Daya, ever the strong and silent type, had his own unexpected story. He had found Shreya's long-lost sister during an undercover mission, and before the dust had settled, hearts had found each other. Now married, Daya and his wife were expecting their first child.
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In the corner of the room, ACP Pradyuman's phone buzzed. He answered with a stern, "Yes, tell me." His voice softened slightly as he hung up—rare for the formidable ACP.
"That was my grandson," ACP said to the room. "Final year of college. He's planning to join CID after graduation."
Abhijeet raised an eyebrow. "Runs in the family, sir?"
ACP's lips twitched in the closest thing he had to a smile. "It's in the blood."
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Before the warmth could settle too long, the phone rang again—this time with urgency. Swami was the one to pick it up, listening intently, his eyes narrowing.
"ACP sir… we've got a body. But there's something strange. The caller says the victim has been expecting us… for five years."
The room fell silent. Season 2 had begun.
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