On the screen of the laptop, his hazel orbs glued, scrutinizing each minute detail, his fingers working on the keypads, sometimes he runs these fingers in his hair in distress. His perfect eyebrows creased and wrinkles form on his forehead, a suspicion plastered on his handsome face, “Whoever killed Dr. Sharma is knew all the security details and had all the information of inside…. “, he pinched his nose bridge, “That means the person is someone… inside the prison… But…Who…???...”.
Virat was engrossed in his contemplation when his chain of thoughts break by the ring of his phone, he picked up the phone and slightly beam on glancing at the name of the person, “Hi, Rehan… How are you..?... and Reshma..?...? You all don’t talk to me much in the Head Quarters…!!!... Do you all even know,
