The video quality was surprisingly sharp for a rip. The encoding—X265—was efficient, rendering the image with a crisp, clinical clarity. The scene opened in a gritty, dimly lit interrogation room. A man sat on a steel chair, his face obscured by shadow. A single bulb swung overhead.

The audio was slightly out of sync, a common issue with pirated rips. Arjun adjusted the track offset by 150ms. The crackle of the swinging bulb aligned with the visual.

“Who asked you not to?” the detective asked.

I didn't click. I couldn't. But as I reached to shut down the laptop, the rain outside my window—the rain that hadn't been forecast—began to fall a little harder. And somewhere, just beneath the sound of water hitting glass, I thought I heard a whisper: