"There is no peace without war."
I lay sprawled on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, lost in the patterns of shadows cast by the late-night moonlight. The tranquil atmosphere shattered abruptly by a series of knocks on my door sending a jolt through me. Eagerness tangled with an unsettling dread as the firm rapping echoed again. A quiet voice, smooth yet urgent, floated through the wood, "I am Meera. Open the door, Suraj. I have come here alone."
With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, I swung the door open. Meera glided into the room, her presence commanding yet delicate. Her eyes locked onto mine, and she leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I know you must be worried that Sarla will do something, and soon our secret will be revealed. But don't worry, Suraj. I have made all the arrangements to save you."
Though I heard her words, my gaze was drawn irresistibly to her lips, luscious and inviting. An overwhelming urge to kiss her welled up within me, yet the weight of being forbidden pressed heavily on my heart. "What arrangements?" I managed to ask, curiosity tinged with caution.
Meera glanced around the room, a flicker of urgency crossing her features, and then she reached into a concealed bag nestled in her dress. As she drew out an assortment of bangles and a delicate pair of necklaces, my breath caught at the sight of their glimmering gold. Her soft smile did little to quell my uneasiness.
"Keep it," she urged, her voice steady. "I have more than enough for a lifetime. If it comes to some help to you, then it should be with you."
I shook my head, anxiety tight in my chest. "Never. I cannot accept this. It's both unethical and dangerous. If I sell it to a jeweler, they could easily trace it back to Sarla, creating a nightmare for both of us."
Her fingers entwined with mine, warmth igniting my skin. "You are so considerate and smart. I wish we had met earlier," she said, her gaze searching mine.
I let out a small laugh, tinged with melancholy. "Believe me, Meera. If we had met earlier, our paths would be drastically different. My loved ones have never had good luck. I've lost everyone who meant something to me, and they lost me in return."
Her smile faltered, a shadow crossing her face. "I don't care. Even if it meant death to get love from someone like you, I would accept it blindly."
I offered a gentle smile, attempting to soften the gravity of my words. "Searching for love in others is futile. True love arrives precisely when it is meant to."
Meera held my gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears slowly draining down her cheek. She leaned toward me in a moment of desperate vulnerability, her intent clear—a kiss that could seal our unspoken bond. But as much as I yearned for it, I resisted, the weight of our circumstances too heavy to bear.
Her smile, though tinged with sadness, remained bright. "I will always pray to God that wherever you go, you stay happy and healthy."
"I will pray the same for you," I replied, feeling a warmth spread within me despite the looming shadows of fear.
As she gracefully exited the room, I lay back down, my thoughts swirling in a blissful haze. I stared up at the ceiling, my heart swelling with unanticipated happiness.
I was chopping wood with the rhythmic thud of the axe striking the log, when Sarla approached me, his expression serious. "Walk with me," he beckoned, and I paused, setting the axe aside, the scent of fresh-cut wood still clinging to the air. As we ambled along the narrow trail, Sarla scrutinized my face, curiosity etched in his features. "Why don't you have any scars?" he inquired, a hint of suspicion coloring his words. "I assumed you must have resisted your captivity."
A faint smile tugged at my lips, a flicker of comfort amidst the tense atmosphere. "Aanchal intoxicated me. When I finally regained consciousness, I found myself bound to a tree deep in the forest," I replied as Meera had instructed me.
Sarla's brow furrowed. "Why didn't you mention anything about Ravi to me or Raju? I mean, I think he must have visited Aanchal while you were around."
I shifted uncomfortably, my gaze drifting to the ground. "He was just an ordinary boy to me. I never imagined he could do something so sinister."
Sighing heavily, Sarla said, "Yes, life has a way of throwing unexpected challenges our way." I seized the moment to ask, "What makes you think Anthony killed Raju?" The fire in Sarla's eyes flared at my question, anger surfacing in his response. "I don't think. I know."
I offered an awkward smile, trying to diffuse the tension. "I was merely curious." Sarla's hand landed firmly on my shoulder, his smile tinged with a hint of caution. "It strikes me as rather suspicious that the moment I hired you and sent you to Aanchal's house, she fled with her lover and my brother died in the same house. Is it just coincidence, or is there something darker at play?"
A wave of unease washed over me, my voice trembling slightly as I replied, "I'm afraid I'm not well-versed in these matters. It could very well be mere coincidence."
Sarla's expression grew somber as he continued, "While burying my brother, I stumbled upon something bizarre."
"What was it?" I asked, intrigued yet hesitant.
He smiled, a glint of something almost hopeful flickering in his eyes. "Something that might open new possibilities regarding Raju's death."
"That sounds promising," I said, attempting to reassure him. "Perhaps fate is guiding you toward justice."
His smile faded slightly as he replied, "I don't believe in fate or God. My faith lies in intellect and strength. I suspect there's a mole among us—someone who assisted Anthony in orchestrating my brother's murder."
Nervously, I asked, "Who do you think the mole is?"
Sarla chuckled, a low, unsettling sound, "I'll uncover that traitor soon enough. Once I connect the bizarre discovery with Anthony, the mole's identity will reveal itself."
He gave my shoulder a reassuring pat before walking away, leaving me engulfed in a heavy silence. A cold shiver traveled down my spine, fear curling tightly around my mind like a serpent, tightening with each grim possibility that played out in my imagination.
I hurried down the dimly lit corridor, my heart pounding as I approached Meera's room. The door creaked open to reveal her, seated at a small vanity, her fingers deftly running a comb through her long, dark hair, transforming it into smooth, silken waves. I seized her hand gently yet insistently, leading her away from the open door.
Her brows furrowed with concern as she whispered, "What are you doing? Someone will see us." I shot back, my voice laced with urgency, "I don't care. Sarla is suspicious of me. He claims to have found evidence that ties back to the real culprit behind his brother's death."
A fleeting smile danced across Meera's lips, a glimmer of confidence in her eyes. "Don't worry, Suraj. Sarla is just bluffing. That's his play—he lays traps and waits for his quarry to stumble. Trust me, Mathur has done his job meticulously. If there were any loose ends, we'd all be in grave danger." Despite her reassuring words, a knot of doubt twisted in my stomach. But at this moment, my options were limited; I had to lean on Meera and Mr. Mathur's expertise.
Reluctantly, I stepped away from her and made my way back to my room. The moment I crossed the threshold, Sumeet forcibly gripped my arm, his eyes blazing with fury. "How many times do I have to warn you? Are you a novice? Did Ms. Maria really assign a greenhorn to such a delicate operation?"
I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure amidst his rage. "What happened?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tension.
"What happened?" he thundered, his frustration echoing off the walls. "Raju is dead! Sarla is sharper than ever, hyper-aware of his surroundings. We don't have the luxury of time. We need to dismantle him and his empire before someone else does. Sarla is like a coiled snake right now, and here you are flitting in and out of his wife's room in broad daylight!"
I replied, resolve creeping into my tone, "Meera wants to help us. She despises her husband; I believe she will be crucial for our next move."
Sumeet sighed heavily, the lines of stress deepening on his face. "That's exactly why I don't work with people who maintain close ties with those in high places. The first rule of snooping is discretion. Meera might hate Sarla, but she's not an ally. She's not part of UCID, and her loyalty is questionable."
"I trust her," I asserted, my voice firm. "Don't forget, I was the one who saved UCID from the brink of collapse. The people I dealt with are far beyond your pay grade."
Sumeet's hurt was palpable, but he managed to respond with a strained calmness. "My pay grade is none of your concern, Mr. Harsh Bhardwaj. I might not be as 'daring' as you, but I have completed more cases successfully than you, and I don't let my friends die."
His words struck me hard, piercing through my heart. Memories of Cathy, Captain, Ankita, and my parents flashed vividly in my mind, each image a reminder of my failures. I clamped down on my emotions, feeling the heat of anger bubble beneath the surface, yet knowing he was right. I had failed those who placed their trust in me. I had let my family down, and my sister, Shirley, had paid the ultimate price for my obliviousness when she fell for a criminal.
With a heavy heart, I exited the room, the weight of my past pressing down on me as I strolled toward the colony. The path ahead seemed uncertain, each step echoing the burdens I carried within.
The air was thick with the scent of charred wood and smoldering remnants as I sat on the front steps of Aanchal's house, now little more than a skeleton of what it had once been. The charred remains of walls stood as haunted sentinels, their surfaces blackened and brittle, casting long shadows in the late afternoon light. I felt the eyes of the people gather around me, a mix of curiosity and anticipation. They encircled me slowly, their expressions shifting from uncertainty to something I hadn't seen before—happiness mixed with a newfound confidence.
Mr. Mathur, his face etched with lines of worry and yet illuminated by a glimmer of hope, approached me with a cautious but friendly demeanor. He lowered himself onto the steps beside me, his weary frame casting a long shadow in the dim light. With a gentle smile, he extended a small container of sweets, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the desolation around us. "I didn't expect you to come here," he said, his voice a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. "But, honestly, I am happy to see you. We all are. What you did for the people has inspired them. They no longer cower in fear of that monster. They've found courage; they have banished the terror that once consumed them. They've found a new hope, a reason to live. They've found their Messiah."
I couldn't help but smile at his words, a bittersweet tug at my heart. "I am nobody's messiah," I insisted, my tone shifting towards a more serious note. "No one can carry that title. The whole notion of a messiah swooping in to save the day is merely a story spun by those unwilling to confront their own battles—not because they cannot, but because they choose not to. Cowardice solves nothing, Mr. Mathur. If you refuse to rise and fight for your freedom and dignity, then you forfeit the right to expect someone else to do it for you."
As my words hung in the air, a figure approached. Wrapped tightly in a tattered woolen blanket, he bore the weight of hardships that no human should have to endure. When he smiled at me, it was not a joyful expression, but rather one of resignation tinged with hope. He pulled down the blanket, revealing a body that had borne the brunt of unimaginable suffering—his hands were gone, and his skin was a tapestry of burns, a cruel reminder of the violence that had marred his existence. "Yes, you are right," he said softly, his voice steady yet filled with anguish. "But what is courage? Where can we find it? I have courage, sir. I am ready to fight Sarla. But will I win? Will I be successful?"
I glanced around at the faces surrounding me, at those who had survived but were far from thriving. They stood resilient yet haunted, looking to me for answers that felt out of reach. Mr. Mathur looked at me with a mix of hope and concern, and he contemplated my earlier assertions. "What will courage do for them, apart from putting themselves at risk?" he wondered aloud. "Fear has been their shield for years, keeping them alive. Now that you've sparked hope in them, they believe they might have a chance at a life beyond what they've known."
My heart sank at the weight of his words. "Will I be enough?" I murmured, already aware of the magnitude of the task ahead of us. "I may help them cast off Sarla's chains and improve their lives, but then what? What guarantee is there that another Sarla won't rise anew, seeking to instill fear once more? Will they then sit back and wait for another messiah to arrive?" All the people looked at me, but no one had an answer to my question.
Mr. Mathur leaned forward, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he looked at me. "Do you really believe that Sarla began to dominate them out of the blue? It wasn't a sudden shift in power. No, it was a gradual process. He first earned their trust, carefully weaving a web of dependency around them, until they found themselves cornered and feeling utterly helpless. They weren't paralyzed by a lack of will; rather, they were trapped in a mindset that left them believing there was no other escape. But everything changed when they mercilessly killed Raju and incinerated his body in the very house where Aanchal was being held captive. In that moment, a spark of rebellion ignited within their hearts—a fire that can never be extinguished."
As I scanned the faces of the people assembled, I felt a swell of determination rising within me. "I cannot resurrect your past or restore what has been lost," I began, my voice steady and firm. "But I can guide you all toward a brighter future—one filled with prosperity, security, and the freedom you deserve. A future where you stand tall as independent individuals, no longer shackled by the chains of oppression. You will no longer bow to anyone, nor allow yourself to be subjected to this tyranny. So I ask you, are you ready to march forward into that future?"
A powerful chorus of voices erupted in response, shouting, "Yes!" The energy in the air was palpable, a collective resolve that sent shivers down my spine. I raised my hand high, signaling the momentous decision we all faced. "Then let us not waste another moment! It's time to rally together and show Sarla just what we are capable of. His world has already been shaken by the loss of his brother, and now it's time for him to face the consequences of his actions. Let's send him straight to his brother!"
The crowd's roar filled the air, a sound of unity and strength that echoed throughout the entire colony, a powerful testament to our shared determination and readiness for change.....