They thought it was an accident! I sighed. ‘Where is he now?’ I asked.

‘His parents came a few hours ago and took his body away for the funeral. The police will investigate the case later. They are under the impression that he committed suicide,’ she said, placing her hand on my head, unaware that I was the one behind Parth’s death.

I began thinking of myself as a murderer. The guilt grew stronger with each breath I took. As I returned to the dorm, a ward boy told me, Joffin and two other students to report to Father George’s office.

It was the second time in two days that I had found myself in that office. I was terrified by what I saw—in the office sat Sister Sophia, Sister Stella, Father George and two police officers. In the cold winter of Nainital, I began sweating, which made it evident that I was scared.

‘Come, Madhav,’ said Father George, kindly. The four of us sat on the sofa in the corner of the room.

‘Officer, this is Madhav Mehra. He was Parth’s closest friend at school. You may ask him whatever you want to know.’ Father George looked at me and said, ‘Son, don’t worry, just answer honestly.’

One of the officers said, ‘We just want to ask you a few simple questions. When was the last time you saw Parth?’

The officer’s question released a flood of memories.

‘What’s wrong? Why are you sweating?’ the officer asked. ‘Have some water.’

‘I last saw him at dinner the night before,’ I said, clearing my throat, trying to sound confident.

‘Did he seem disturbed?’ asked the other officer.

‘No. He’d undergone a knee surgery a few days ago and was in pain, so he went to sleep early,’ I replied.

‘And the next morning?’ the officer asked Joffin.

‘I don’t know, sir. Parth missed all the morning classes. Even Madhav missed his classes,’ he said.

‘Why weren’t you in class, Madhav?’

I thought for a while before lying. I wasn’t sure if the truth would help anyone, but a lie would surely save me from being called a murderer. So I made up a story. ‘I was looking for Parth all morning. I even asked Joffin if he had seen him but he hadn’t.’ Joffin nodded, corroborating the story.

One of our other classmates spoke up, ‘But I told you I had seen him walking towards the hill and you went in that direction.’ I hadn’t expected him to remember our exchange.

‘That is true, sir. I went looking for Parth. But I couldn’t find him, so I came back,’ I said.

‘The teachers told us that you and Parth were the only students who didn’t attend class that morning,’ said the officer.

It was difficult for me to think clearly and weave a credible story due to the turmoil inside me.

‘I was looking for him. That’s all I have to say, sir,’ I murmured.

After an hour’s questioning, the officers ruled that Parth’s death had been an accident.