Sports Day practice always made the school feel twice as bright as usual.
House flags appeared near the assembly ground. Whistles travelled from one corner to another. Children who normally forgot where to stand suddenly became experts in lines, rows, and formations.
On Thursday afternoon, just after march-past practice, a house badge was found on the veranda outside Grade 4.
It was clean, round, and clipped shut.
On the front was a silver running shoe.
The trouble was that four children from Grade 4 had worn sports badges that day, and everyone wanted to claim they already knew whose it was.
'It must be Ayaan's,' said one.
'No, he had the torch symbol,' said another.
Megha, who liked clues more than loud guesses, picked up the badge and decided to listen properly before speaking.
By lunch, she had collected four useful details.
First, Riya's badge definitely was not this one because hers showed a green kite, and she had spent half of drill time polishing the scratch on its corner with the end of her handkerchief.
Second, Ayaan had a red torch badge pinned neatly on the left side of his T-shirt.
He was proud of remembering the exact place because their PT sir had corrected the position twice earlier that week.
Third, Dev's badge had a tiny bent clip at the back.
He had complained about it during roll call because it kept snagging on the thread of his collar.
Megha turned over the found badge.
The clip was straight.
So it could not be Dev's.
That left only one person from the marching row who had worn a badge that morning.
Sana.
Still, Megha wanted one final check before announcing anything.
So she walked to the classroom and looked at the chart the class teacher had pinned for Sports Day teams.
Riya - kite.
Ayaan - torch.
Dev - whistle.
Sana - running shoe.
There it was.
The answer had been sitting quietly inside the clues the whole time.
When Megha found Sana near the tap, Sana was patting both sides of her uniform pocket with growing worry.
'Looking for this?' Megha asked.
Sana turned so fast that two hair ribbons slipped loose at once.
'Yes! I thought it fell near the field.'
She took the badge carefully and then narrowed her eyes. 'How did you know it was mine?'
Megha counted on her fingers.
'Riya had the kite. Ayaan had the torch. Dev's clip was bent. This clip was straight. And the chart says you had the running shoe.'
Sana stared for a second and then grinned.
'You should solve all lost things in school from now on,' she said.
The funny part, Megha thought later, was that there had never really been a mystery about magic or luck.
Only a mystery about paying attention.
Most riddles, she had begun to notice, did not hide their answers very far away.
They simply waited for someone to stop talking over them and line the clues up properly.
Good logic often comes from patient observation and checking each clue in the right order.
Read slowly, point to key words, and ask one warm question at the end.