Before the confrontation with Rahul—
"I'm going to give you something crazy," Detective Tihsan said, his eyes unreadable. "Is that fine?"
I blinked. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"
He hesitated, then asked, "How old are you, again?"
"I just turned twelve."
"Right…" he muttered. "This is definitely not a good idea. But I don't see any other choice."
"Is it dangerous?" I asked. "I can handle it. I'm not like other kids—I live in my imagination. In my fantasy world, I've already done everything. I'm used to danger… So trust me. Whatever it is, I'll do it."
He stared at me a moment longer, then exhaled sharply. "Snap out of your dreams. This isn't fantasy. What I'm about to give you is more dangerous than anything your mind has ever come up with."
"I'm not a kid," I said firmly. "If everything you've told me is true, then our lives are in danger. We have to act before something happens. Even Bappi's involved now. Just tell me what I need to do."
Tihsan didn't say a word. He simply reached into his coat, pulled something out, and handed it to me.
My hands closed around it.
"What is this… wait… is this a—?"
"Yes," he said. "It's a gun."
I froze. "Is it real?"
"It is. It's similar to the one I carry. A Sig Sauer P226 semi-automatic pistol. Comes in different calibers—9mm, .357 SIG, .40 S&W—but don't worry about the specs."
The cold weight in my palm was undeniable. Real.
"We're at my apartment," he continued, leading me toward a side room. "I've installed sound blockers. No one will hear us."
I followed him, still gripping the weapon. My heart was beating like a war drum.
"A semi-automatic pistol like this loads each cartridge from the magazine into the chamber," Tihsan explained. "After you fire, it ejects the empty casing and prepares the next shot. This top part—called the slide—needs to be pulled back to chamber the first round. A lot of adults can't manage it properly under stress. Strong spring."
I watched him demonstrate everything step-by-step. He moved with calm precision, like a surgeon.
"Use your dominant hand," he said. "Open the web between your thumb and index finger. Fit the grip right into that space. Your thumb goes on one side, middle and ring fingers curl around the other, just below the trigger guard. Not too tight. If you grip it like you're strangling someone, you'll lose accuracy."
My hands trembled slightly, but I copied him as best as I could.
"With your non-dominant hand," he continued, "support the gun from underneath. Your index finger should rest below the trigger guard or wherever you feel most stable. Use this hand to absorb the recoil."
I nodded. My pulse was thudding in my ears.
"When aiming," he said, "align the front sight post with the rear sight. Keep the top of the front sight level with the rear. Make sure it's centered in the notch. That gives you your sight picture."
I breathed slowly, trying to steady the gun in my grip.
"Use your dominant eye. Close the other unless you're trained to aim with both open. Control your breath. You'll notice the gun moves with your heartbeat. Focus. Fire when the sights dip to the bottom of that movement. That's your window."
He pointed to a doll placed on the far end of the room. "Shoot."
My mouth felt dry. I raised the gun with both hands.
"Ah… okay. I'll try."
Baam.
The shot rang out, echoing through the padded room. Smoke curled in the air. My arms tingled from the recoil.
"Bravo," Tihsan said, with a faint smile. "You're better than I expected. That was impressive."
I lowered the weapon slowly, my breath still shallow.
"Inside that house," he said, "your target will be close. Accuracy won't matter as much as nerve. Pull the trigger when it counts."
I looked up at him. "But what if we're wrong? What if Rahul and his father aren't involved? You just gave a twelve-year-old a gun. What if your superiors find out?"
"My experience tells me they're involved," he said without flinching. "And even if there's a 0.5% chance I'm right—I'm taking it. Besides…"
He gave me a look.
"I don't think you'll tell anyone I gave you the gun."
I raised a brow. "Why not?"
"Because you're a good kid," he said simply. "That's why."
I blinked. A strange warmth moved through my chest.
"Let's do two more rounds," he said, walking back toward the doll. "Then you'll head home."
I smiled quietly and nodded.
"Alright."
Present Day
"You messed up again, didn't you, Tihsan?"
He didn't respond at first. He stood silently over the empty space where hope had once lingered.
"Nah," he finally said, voice low. "We were close. I did good this time."
"You look tired," said the voice beside him. "What happened to you? You used to work for weeks without rest. Your wife's death… it's changed you."
He exhaled slowly and turned away.
"Oh, you think so?" he muttered.
He adjusted his coat and walked toward the exit.
"I'm heading home. Cover everything. No leaks. No outsiders."
The woman behind him gave a small, fond smile.
"Go get some rest, sweetheart. Anni will take care of everything for you."