Page 56 of One Hellish Love

Daadi’s expression turned cold. “Where she belongs. We’ve nurtured a poisonous snake all these years, Shekhar. She never cared for the love and efforts we gave her. She’s betrayed this family.”

“Daadi, please. Just tell me where she is,” Shekhar asked, his voice tightening with worry.

“Where do you think?” Daadi spat bitterly. “She’s in police custody. I handed her over myself.”

Anjali and Shekhar froze, the weight of Daadi’s words hitting them like a punch. Without a moment’s hesitation, Shekhar dashed out, racing to the police station.

****************

Kashish sat in silence on a cold, hard bench, surrounded by officers who bombarded her with endless questions. Tears streamed down her face, her throat constricted with pain. The accusations hung over her like a dark cloud—attempted murder of Rudra Raheja. But her mind was elsewhere, haunted by the memory of his anguished words, the way he had laid bare his suffering, his guilt, his desperation. He had begged her to end his life if it would bring her peace. And now, everything was spiraling out of control.

Inspector Kadam, the senior officer, dismissed the others and took a seat across from her. He studied her with weary eyes.

“Miss Bedi, if you stay silent, we won’t get anywhere. Savitri Raheja has filed a formal complaint against you for stabbing Rudra Raheja. We’ve sent the knife for forensic analysis. If your fingerprints are on it, a full charge will be filed. Do you understand what that means?”

Kashish’s lips remained sealed. She didn’t respond, barely even registering his words. Kadam sighed in frustration.

“Alright. We’ll wait for the forensic report,” he said, rising from his seat and walking away.

Kashish felt nothing. Just emptiness. Her entire body trembled as she tried to process the storm swirling around her. Rudra was the only one who knew the truth. But he was unconscious, unable to help her, trapped in his own torment.

Suddenly, she heard Shekhar’s voice from across the station. He was arguing with the officers, desperate to see her. After a few minutes, he rushed into the room, his face etched with worry.

“Kashish!” he called out, horrified by the sight of her behind bars. “How could they bring you here? I know you didn’t do this. You’d never harm anyone, not physically.”

But Kashish didn’t say a word. She stayed cold, distant, her mind consumed by Rudra’s confession—his pain, the torment he had endured as a 16-year-old boy, falsely accused and abused. The thought of him being molested, starved, and treated like a criminal haunted her. He had begged for redemption, but all she had done was push him further into the abyss.

Shekhar gripped her arm, trying to reach her. “Kashish, please. Tell me what happened? How did Rudra end up like this? Why won’t you say anything?”

But Kashish remained frozen, trapped in her own thoughts, her soul aching at the thought of Rudra’s suffering. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t relive the nightmare. She just couldn’t.

******************

Few Hours Later

“Don’t hate me... don’t,” Rudra Raheja whimpered in his sleep, his voice fragile and broken. Daadi, sitting beside him, gently stroked his hair, her heart heavy with worry.

“Rudra... it’s alright, you’re safe now,” she whispered, trying to pull him from the dark clutches of his nightmare. But Rudra remained trapped, wrestling with his dream, lost in a haunting memory. Daadi shook him harder, and finally, his eyes fluttered open, though his body trembled from the lingering effects of the dream.

It was one of those nightmares again. The ones that had tormented him for years—where he saw that 13-year-old Kashish, her face twisted in anger, hurling stones at him, screaming how much she hated him. No matter how fast he ran, no matter how desperately he called out, she always slipped further away. He could never reach her.

“Rudra... I’m right here,” Daadi soothed, caressing his cheek. Slowly, the present began to settle in. He saw the doctor standing next to his bed, Daadi’s teary eyes fixed on him, and Anjali silently weeping in the corner. His chest throbbed painfully beneath the bandage, and his heart skipped a beat as the memory of Kashish surfaced—how he had collapsed in front of her after baring his deepest wounds.

“Kashish... where’s Kashish?” he asked, his voice weak, turning to Daadi.

“She’s being... taken care of. You need rest, Rudra. Please lie down,” Daadi tried to divert him.

“Taken care of?” Rudra’s voice rose, a sharp edge cutting through the room. “What do you mean by that?”

The nurses began checking his vitals, but he shoved them away, urgency overtaking him.

“Where is Kashish, Daadi? I want to see her, now!” he demanded, his desperation palpable.

Anjali, unable to hold back any longer, blurted out the truth.

“The police... they took her. She’s being charged with attempting to murder you, Rudra.”

Rudra’s entire body froze. Murder? Kashish didn’t hurt him—she didn’t do anything. Rage and guilt flooded through him.

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