Chapter 1 - The Tea, The Tree, and The Terror

Maplewood was a small town where people knew each other, cows walked slowly on the road, and life moved like a lazy river. There were no big buildings, no fast trains, and definitely no murder.

At 7:00 a.m., the day began like every other.

Mrs. Pinto opened her tea shop.

She was in her 60s, wore round glasses, and made the best ginger tea in town.

“Good morning, Arjun,” she said as a young man walked in with messy hair and a sleepy smile.

“Same tea?” she asked, already pouring.

“Extra sugar, please,” Arjun replied, sitting in the corner with his sketchbook.

Old Mr. Sharma was already at the counter, complaining about the price of onions again. Two kids ran by, laughing about a math test. The smell of hot samosas filled the air.

Everything was normal.

Until it wasn’t.

At exactly 7:32 a.m., a scream came from the park behind the tea shop.

It wasn’t just a scream — it was the kind that makes your heart stop.

Mrs. Pinto dropped her teacup.

Arjun stood up quickly.

“What was that?”

People ran toward the park. It was quiet, almost too quiet. The birds had stopped singing.

And there, under the big old banyan tree — a man was lying on the ground.

Still. Silent.

He was around 30. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t blinking. He wasn’t breathing.

And around his neck was a bright red scarf.

“Call the police!” someone shouted.

Officer Veer arrived within minutes. He was young but serious. He quickly blocked off the area.

“No one goes near the body,” he ordered.

The man had no ID, no phone, no wallet.

His pockets were empty. There was no blood. No injury. Only a note in his hand.

It had one word:

“Sorry.”

“Was this suicide?” Veer whispered.

“But who brings a red scarf to a park… to die?”

By afternoon, the town was buzzing.

“I think he was poisoned!”

“No, no. It’s a message. A warning!”

“My cousin said he’s from the city. Some big businessman!”

People talked. They always did.

But one whisper was louder than the rest.

“We need her.”

Another replied, “You mean… Detective Monika?”

“She solved the Hill Town Hospital case in one night!”

“She found that missing girl through just a broken shoe print!”

“She’s so smart. And beautiful!”

“My son wants to marry her,” someone joked.

Far away, in a city where cars beeped nonstop and people walked fast, a woman stood at her window.

She wore a black coat, had sharp eyes, and a notebook always in her hand.

Her phone rang.

She answered without looking.

“Yes. I heard. Maplewood, right?”

The voice on the phone said:

“We have a red scarf and a dead man. No answers.”

She smiled softly.

“Send me the photos.”

She closed her notebook and picked up her coat.

Detective Monika S. Rao was on her way.

But Maplewood didn’t know her yet.

And the real story was just beginning.

🧣 To be continued in Chapter 2: “The Girl in the Mirror”

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