The report came in just before dawn—
A body had been found lying by the riverbank. No one saw who dropped it there. Or so it seemed.
Detective Kareem arrived at the scene just as the early fog began to lift from the water. The air was thick with silence, save for the murmurs of the gathered crowd. An officer approached him, lowering his voice.
"Sir, a man claims he might have seen something—or someone—near the river before the body was found. He works here... a fisherman."
Kareem raised an eyebrow. "Take me to him."
The fisherman wasn't old—mid-thirties, with sun-worn skin and a watchful gaze. He stood by his wooden canoe, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes scanning the water like it could answer questions better than people could.
"I didn't see a face," he began. "But I saw shadows. Movement. People using this river for things it wasn't meant for. Bad things."
"Bad things?" Kareem echoed.
The fisherman nodded. "This ain't the first time, detective. But this time... I felt it. Something darker."
Kareem narrowed his eyes. "You're saying this might be part of something bigger?"
"I'm saying," the fisherman said, stepping closer, "this river knows things. And sometimes... it keeps secrets longer than people do."
Kareem promised to return. He needed time—to think, to cross-check reports. But by the time he went back to speak with the fisherman again...
He was gone.
Vanished.
No one had seen him leave, and no one could reach him. His canoe was still tied up by the docks, bobbing gently like nothing had happened. But something had. Kareem could feel it in his gut.
"Don't release the news yet," he told the officers. "Not until I figure this out."
Two days later, the fisherman's body was found.
Face-down by the same riverbank.
Mouth open.
Eyes wide.
Dead.
The crowd had gathered quickly again, shock rippling through them like thunder after lightning. Then a voice—young, sharp—cut through the murmurs.
"Oh my God... he was killed like the girl!"
Kareem snapped his head toward the sound. A boy. Fourteen, maybe fifteen. Pale, frightened. Holding his mother's hand.
The detective approached slowly, crouching down.
"What girl are you talking about?"
The boy looked up, hesitating. His lips trembled.
But the crowd interfered.
"He's just a child!" someone said.
"He knows nothing!" shouted another.
"Leave the poor boy alone!"
But Kareem's instincts screamed otherwise.
This wasn't just about a single body. Or even two.
This river was whispering something.
And it was time someone truly listened.