My Best Friend’s Murder


Aryan and I had been born on the same day, almost at the same hour, in the same chawl (rough equivalent of The Projects), to parents who were the thickest of friends. We played with the same toys as we grew up, went to the same school, attended the same classes, sat on the same bench, made fun of the same teachers, and got punished at the same time. And though I was too cool to be caught dead admitting it, Aryan was my best friend….and now, they wanted me to kill him!

I still blame myself for what happened that day. Aryan was hungry, and wanted to get some cake from my employer’s bakery. The only thing was, he had no money to buy it. So, he decided to steal it. What could be the harm in stealing a tiny piece of cake, he thought. If I could look into…

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