"We all are puppets of our memories."
The relentless rain had drenched most of the colony's lower areas, forcing many residents, including Mathur Uncle, to move to the higher grounds where Karthik and I were staying. Karthik, however, was far from pleased with the arrangement. To him, servants and masters had no business sharing the same roof. His frustration grew when the villagers began using the communal kitchen to prepare their meals.
The situation reached a boiling point when some mischievous children accidentally spilled Karthik's expensive wine, which he had brought to impress prospective buyers. Enraged, he showed no mercy, punishing the children by making them kneel in the pouring rain for hours, unmoved by their mothers' desperate pleas.
Payal rarely interacted with me, though she occasionally brought me food or water. She was cautious, avoiding unnecessary attention from Karthik, fully aware of the trouble it could bring. Karthik's anger seemed boundless, and I often found myself the target of his scorn, as he vented his frustration about being sent to such a place by his uncle during the rainy season. His sadistic tendencies escalated—throwing food, scalding water, and harsh words to assert his dominance.
Mathur Uncle and some of the others, exhausted by Karthik's behavior, began secretly mixing intoxicants into his meals to keep him sedated and restore some semblance of peace. The women in the house were particularly weary of him. His lecherous advances and inappropriate behavior left them uneasy and vulnerable.
There were moments when I felt an overwhelming urge to end his cruelty once and for all, but Mathur Uncle's calm words and reason held me back—for now.
I was peeling onions in the kitchen when Karthik walked in. His eyes were bloodshot from the daily dose of weed secretly mixed into his food. He glared at me and barked, "Hey, you! Go get me some water."
I got up without a word and fetched the water. The moment I handed it to him, he splashed it back in my face. "Idiot! This water smells like onions," he spat. Then, turning to another boy in the room, he said, "You, bring me some water." The boy complied, and Karthik drank without complaint.
He turned back to me with a sneer. "Behave like an idiot again, and I'll throw you into the forest." With that, he stomped out of the kitchen. I muttered under my breath, imitating his tone, "I'll throw you in the forest."
As I dried my face, Mathur Uncle entered. His face was tense. "Hurry up, everyone," he ordered. "The buyers are on their way. They'll reach the colony soon. Tell the women to start dressing up the girls immediately. Karthik is already in a bad mood, and I don't want it getting worse."
I couldn't hold back anymore. "The buyers are not leaving here alive. We need to strike now, or it'll be too late," I interrupted.
Mathur Uncle gave me a sharp look. "There will be a time for everything. Be patient. Those girls are like my daughters, too. I swear, I won't let any harm come to them."
I sighed in frustration and walked out of the room, but he followed me and grabbed my arm. "Whatever you're planning, stop it. We don't have the strength to openly revolt against Sarla yet. When the time comes, I'll be the one to strike first."
I wrenched my arm free. "When will that time come? I've been waiting here for six months, and I've seen no progress from you or Meera. All I see are your little schemes that do nothing but provoke Sarla into tormenting the innocents more. Meanwhile, innocent people are dying in this silent war between you and him."
Mathur Uncle pushed me against the wall. "Haven't people died before? People die. It's impossible to win a war without spilling blood. The ones who died accepted their fate. Their children will have better lives because of their sacrifice."
I shoved him back. "There's no happiness in seeing your loved ones die. You can't expect people to be content after losing their parents."
He smiled grimly. "You speak of peace, but look around you. Do you see peace? The people you're trying to save gave up on a better future long ago. The only hope they have left is that their children might escape this nightmare."
"Then they're selfish," I retorted and stormed away, leaving him behind.
Karthik and Mathur Uncle stood near the sea as strong winds howled, carrying occasional splatters of rain. Mathur Uncle's gaze shifted to me, standing about five yards away. He walked over and asked, "Where is Aanchal?"
His question caught me off guard. Why was he bringing up Aanchal now, of all times?
"She's out of Sarla's grasp—that's all you need to know," I replied with a confident smile.
Mathur Uncle smiled back. "Why? Don't you trust me? We're on the same side, aren't we?"
"Are we really?" I countered. "Because from where I stand, it seems we're on opposite sides."
He patted my shoulder. "You're young, full of passion, but there's still much for you to learn about the cruelties of life. I just want to keep you safe. You are our only hope. And… Meera likes you."
Hearing that made me a little shy, but remembering Meera's marriage, a wave of sadness washed over me.
"Meera is a married woman," I said firmly. "As long as she's Sarla's wife, her love and body belong to him. If she wants to change that, she should speak to Sarla. Having an affair is not the right path."
Mathur Uncle smiled knowingly. "I've known her since childhood. In fact, I held her in my arms before Venkatesh ever did. I understand her feelings better than anyone. Whenever she talks about you—or even hears your name—her face lights up. She likes talking about you, and that's why the entire colony believes in you. They trust you to save their children from this nightmare, just like you saved Aanchal and Ravi."
I was stunned to hear how much Meera thought of me.
"You say you and everyone have faith in me," I said, growing irritated. "Then why are you standing in my way?"
Mathur Uncle only smiled, offering no answer. He patted my shoulder again before walking back to Karthik.
Minutes later, a massive ferry docked at the shore. Two tall, imposing men stepped off and exchanged firm handshakes with Karthik and Mathur Uncle. Karthik glanced at me and subtly signaled for me to grab their luggage. The bags weren't heavy, suggesting their stay would be brief. I loaded them into the car and drove toward the colony.
As we traveled, one of the men turned to me. "I feel like I've seen you before… but I can't quite place where. Have we met?"
I studied his face, trying to recall if our paths had ever crossed. His pale complexion, thin eyebrows, and patches of white hair made him resemble a stereotypical American businessman. Before I could respond, Karthik laughed. "You must be mistaken, John. Plenty of these rascals look alike—you're probably confusing him with someone else."
John smiled but remained unconvinced. "No, I'm sure of it. We've met before. Maybe in a hospital?"
His words sent a jolt of panic through me. If he recognized me, my identity—and my mission—could be exposed.
"Ah, yes, perhaps at a hospital," I replied quickly. "Before working with Sarla, I used to drive ambulances for various hospitals in Mumbai. Maybe that's where you saw me."
John turned to his companion. "Remember, Garry? Six or seven years ago, you had that terrible accident in India—badly injured your tibia. Maybe this young man was there?"
Garry studied me for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't think he was a driver. More like a medical professional… But that was years ago. Honestly, I don't remember much. The accident was traumatic, and I'd rather not dwell on it."
I caught Garry's gaze in the rearview mirror—and suddenly, the memories came rushing back. I had treated him. His case had been complex, requiring hours of intense surgery. At the time, it had been one of the most remarkable procedures of my career, and I had been proud of my work.
But who would have thought that years later, I'd find myself wishing I had left him paralyzed?
We arrived at the colony around ten at night. Without wasting time, we quickly freshened up and headed for dinner.
John and Garry sat near Karthik, while Mathur Uncle and I were on the right side of the table. Though we were a little farther away, we could hear them clearly.
Garry glanced at me and whispered something into John's ear. John nodded before leaning over to whisper to Karthik. Almost instantly, Karthik's expression shifted from joy to anger. His eyes burned with hostility as he stared at me, looking ready to pounce. He motioned for me to come closer.
I hesitated for a moment before rising slowly and walking toward him. Just as I reached, John grabbed my hand.
"Come sit with us," he said. "Talking about business all the time gets dull. Tell me something about your life before you met Sarla."
I forced a smile, though I felt an overwhelming urge to punch his grinning face. "Nothing spectacular," I said. "Just the usual struggle—wandering from place to place in search of work, trying to hold onto any job I could get, barely earning enough to eat two proper meals a day. Nothing worth mentioning."
Garry narrowed his eyes. "You don't look like someone who's been through poverty. Your physique doesn't match your story."
I curled my lips into a faint smile. "Looks can be deceiving. I've met plenty of people who are strong and muscular despite barely having enough to survive. Hard labor builds more muscle than any gym."
John patted my shoulder. "True."
Garry leaned forward slightly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Tell me more about your childhood. Where were you born?"
I chuckled. "What is this, some kind of interrogation?"
Karthik shot me a sharp glare. "Just answer the question."
I let out a small sigh. "I don't remember exactly where I was born. We moved around a lot, looking for work. My father was a daily wage laborer, and my mother worked as a housemaid. I was their only child. My father never wanted kids—he cursed my existence, blaming my mother for getting pregnant. But she loved me. She'd bring me old clothes and shoes from the children of the houses she worked in."
I paused for a moment before continuing. "I spent most of my teenage years in Orissa. Later, while I was working as a driver in Mumbai, my father passed away. My mother… she left soon after, running away with another man. Apparently, my father used to beat her, and after his death, she chose to be with someone who actually cared for her. After that, it was just me, struggling to survive."
John gave my shoulder another reassuring pat. "We've all seen dark days." His voice turned somber. "I still remember my worst days—working as a bartender at a dingy little café in Arizona. My brother, Garry, was lost in drug addiction, shuffling between rehab centers all over the world."
He exhaled heavily before continuing. "Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was greed. But at some point, I got into the business of flesh trading." He let out a bitter chuckle. "The worst part? The first woman I sold was my own girlfriend—Jenny. She trusted me. And I betrayed her. I still remember the hatred in her eyes when she looked at me from behind the bars of that cage. If I could go back, I would change everything. But life doesn't have a reverse button." His voice grew softer. "I could never bring myself to face her again. Recently, I heard she died of a drug overdose. Some say it was suicide. But I know the truth—I'm the one who killed her."
Garry, who had remained silent, finally spoke. "That's why I don't like talking about the past. It brings back more pain than anything else."
Trying to lighten the mood, Karthik interjected, "When will you meet the girls?"
John and Garry both shot him a glare. Realizing his mistake, Karthik quickly stood up. "It's fine, no rush," he muttered before walking out of the room.
John turned back to me with a grin, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Meet me tonight. We'll drink and talk—just two men sharing stories. It's been a long time since I felt a real connection with someone."
Garry scoffed. "I have no interest in making friends. I'd rather sleep."
John rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself."
Just then, Mathur Uncle tugged at my sleeve. "Someone is waiting for you," he said.
I frowned. "Who?"
He handed me an anklet. "Don't keep your visitor waiting."
A strange feeling settled in my chest as I stood up and left the room.
Why was Meera here? And what did she want?
Muttering to myself, I walked down the dimly lit corridor toward the storeroom…