MY ZAAN

So you won’t open your mouth—”

Suddenly, out of sheer frustration, the murder suspect shouted,

OFFICER, I am telling the truth! He was my best friend! For God’s sake, why would I kill him?”

He was exhausted. He had no idea how many days had passed. He had been stuck in that torture room inside the prison for God knows how long.

And it wasn’t going to end easily anyway.

The USA police—especially the agents who had taken this case into their own hands—were not going to release him until his innocence was proven. Unfortunately, he had no proof.

The angry officer raised his hand, about to slap him, when suddenly a voice stopped him.

**“STOP… COME OUT.”**

The order came from the other side, through the microphone.

Grinding his teeth, the officer nodded and stepped back, leaving the poor man behind. The man broke down, crying silently, covering his face with his palms.

---

Other side…

Why did you stop me? He was just about to confess—

“Officer Sam, mind your tone. Speak while remembering who you are talking to.”

The dark voice of the **Head Agent** echoed through the room, instantly forcing everyone to lower their gaze.

Sam clenched his fists, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing. He simply stared at the floor.

The agent controlled his anger, holding his pen between his long fingers, twirling it out of habit. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the white ceiling, analyzing the situation—replaying everything he knew about the case.

"Sir, what are you thinking? To be honest, all of us present here believe he is the murderer. There is evidence against him,”one calm officer said.

The agent let out a dark chuckle and shook his head. He looked at the four agents—his juniors—and then at the two police officers.

“Is that so?”he said slowly.

“It is easy to kill someone you’ve known since childhood… even a best friend. But the man sitting inside is highly intelligent. Do you really think he would leave evidence so easily?”

“So you’re saying we shouldn’t doubt him just because he’s intelligent?” the angry officer mocked.

The agent cut him off instantly, completely ignoring him.

“Actually, it is clear to me. I am certain someone is framing him—placing the blame on his shoulders.”

Silence fell over the room.

The officers exchanged glances. Somewhere deep down, they started to understand what he meant. No matter how foolish someone was, they wouldn’t leave evidence so carelessly—especially not a man as intelligent as him.

After all, he was a successful businessman.

“So what will you do now?”a junior agent asked sincerely.

“As far as we know you, you never let an innocent person get trapped… Arshmaan sir.”

He had known him for the past four years. He knew Arshmaan well.

But for Arshmaan—

Hearing his own name made him sigh heavily. No matter how hard he tried, it always hurt.

It had been a year… yet it was still difficult to forget.

---

Time skip – Arshmaan’s apartment

“Where is he?” Arshmaan asked over the phone, sitting on a chair.

“He is fully enjoying,” the voice replied, eyes fixed on a young college boy from a distance.

Arshmaan’s muscles relaxed. He nodded and leaned back.

“He is your responsibility. Don’t let even a scratch come to him.”

"Don’t worry, sir. I know my job.”

“Good.”

The call ended.

Minutes passed as Arshmaan stared at the file lying on the table in front of him.

Confused.

He rubbed his face. In all these years, he had never encountered such a strange case.

Every piece of evidence was correct—yet the man accused was innocent.

Because Arshmaan knew him personally.

**Evelyn Williams.**

A man Arshmaan had met just a few weeks ago at an orphanage.

During special events, the orphanage invited all the people who supported them. That was why Arshmaan had been invited.

That day, he had met Evelyn only as a guest.

At the time, Evelyn was speaking gently to a crying child who was upset about not being adopted. He handled the child with patience and warmth.

It wasn’t for show.

His expressions, his words—everything was genuine.

Evelyn was truly a good man. Even the orphans praised him endlessly.

He was a family man—a wife and a child.

And when Arshmaan suddenly learned about his arrest, he was shocked.

Especially after seeing the so-called *clear evidence*.

Somewhere deep inside, Arshmaan was sure—Evelyn had nothing to do with the murder.

There had to be someone else.

But who?

The victim had no other friends besides Evelyn. No enemies. No family. No girlfriends…

But wait—

Isn’t it strange? Who doesn’t have a girlfriend these days?

Lost in thought, Arshmaan’s phone buzzed.

He looked at the caller ID.

And—

In an instant, all his worry, confusion, and overthinking vanished.

He picked up immediately.

“Is the work done?” Arshmaan asked directly.

“Excuse me? No greeting at all?”

Arshmaan rolled his eyes.

“Shut up. Ali, tell me quickly—what I said happened, right? You got his signatures?”

“Yes, buddy. Your plan was successful. The poor father and son are trapped.”

Arshmaan smirked evilly.

“Is that so? They agreed so easily?”

"Of course, yaar. They think it’s no big deal.”

Arshmaan chuckled.

Of course, it wasn’t big in *their* eyes.

Only he knew what it actually meant.

“Well… thanks, buddy—”

“Oh wow, ‘buddy’  and thanks?”Ali whined.

Arshmaan smiled at his best friend.

**Ali Shah.**

Because of Ali and his late father, Arshmaan had reached where he was today.

Ali always considered him his own brother.

And also After his father’s death, Arshmaan had stood by him at every step—comforting him, giving him strength.

"Ali… there was no suspect, right?”

Arshmaan heard Ali clear his throat.

“Actually… umm—”

“Ali.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. I was just joking a little, and suddenly he got angry at me.”

“What kind of joke?”Arshmaan asked irritably.

“Everyone was already shocked when I suddenly said, ‘I want Zaan.’”

Ali smirked, knowing exactly where he had crossed the line.

As expected, Arshmaan frowned deeply.

"What do you mean by that? Behave yourself, Ali. Don’t ever joke like that again. And how dare you say that about Zaan—”

“How many abuses will you give me?”Ali laughed.

“I haven’t even started yet. When I come there, we’ll talk properly.”

"So when are you coming?”Ali asked casually.

Arshmaan sighed, remembering his situation.

“Can’t say. It’ll take some time. Until then, do exactly what I told you.”

“Okay.”

“By the way… how is my boy?”

“Enjoying his trip.”

“I’m surprised you even gave him permission. You know his condition—”

“Don’t worry. He isn’t alone there.”

“Hmm… okay. Anything else or should I say Allah Hafiz?”Ali asked, yawning.

Arshmaan shook his head.

"Allah Hafiz, sleepy head.”

He cut the call.

That familiar, dangerous smirk appeared on his handsome face again.

He stood up and walked to the side table, where a diary lay.

His mother’s diary.

He picked it up and opened it.

A photograph fell out.

His evil smile widened.

Sitting on the bed, staring at **his** picture, he whispered,

"Look what happened today. I thought you were smart—but no…

You are trapped in a cage now.

Don’t worry, my love—you won’t be hurt there.

But *HE * will suffer a lot.

When you go away from HIM…

When you start hating HIM…

When everything is taken away from HIM—

Just like he and his wife snatched everything from me.

Now it’s his turn.

This time…

He will face his own son.

And that is you…

My Zaan.”**