Page 10 of Born in Grief

“I understand Sir but no. I’m sorry.” Inspector Mathur shot Dhrithi a pitying look. “But the thing is the initial crime scene report came in,” the mustachioed police man said, coming closer. “And it looks like the accident was well, not an accident.”

Amay’s entire body stilled, the ice emanating from his form making Dhrithi shiver reflexively. Her mother gasped, a loudmelodramatic sound that had the female cop giving her a narrow-eyed look.

“Did your husband try to kill you, Mrs. Gokhale?”

The words were a bucket of ice water in her bruised and cut up face. She sucked in a breath, the influx of air feeling like shards of glass in her sore throat.

“No,” she said, when she was able to force the word out. “No!”

“We know that your husband rammed your car with his.”

The truth was a many layered thing, she thought dimly. Varun had rammed his car into hers but he wasn’t trying to kill her.

“Ma’am.” The lady cop kept her voice soft and conciliatory instantly making Dhrithi’s hackles rise. “Your husband wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and the impact of the crash sent him catapulting through the windshield. His skull fractured in three different places, and he had a broken femur, a punctured lung from shattered ribs and –“

“Stop.” Dhrithi turned away blindly, bile churning in her throat as she struggled to keep the images the words painted out of her head. “Please stop.”

“I think that’s enough,” Amay said, his voice quiet and authoritative. “She needs her rest. She isn’t going anywhere in this condition. You can speak with her tomorrow.”

When they didn’t immediately back off, he added, “She is the victim, is she not?”

The inspectors exchanged a loaded look before nodding. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”

They bade them goodbye and walked towards the door, the man glancing back at her one last time.

“Inspector,” Dhrithi croaked, pushing herself up, painfully, on one elbow. “Varun was not trying to kill me.”

They stopped, turning back towards her. “You’re sure about that, Madam?” the lady asked.

“I am. Varun didn’t want me dead. He wanted me to come back home.”

Chapter Six

AMAY

“I’ll see you in a little bit, baby. Now go!”

His mother’s last words to him echoed in his brain as he watched the police leave the room, Dhrithi’s father hot on their heels. He wanted to follow them but his body felt rooted to the floor, an indescribable need to stay by Dhrithi’s side filling him.

“Sir?” Dr. Sathe was staring at him. “Shall we?”

Amay nodded. But his feet wouldn’t move. He glanced at Dhrithi, her tear filled, bruised eyes begging him for something he couldn’t give her. He didn’t have it in him to give her, or anyone else, anything. He broke the eye contact, turning away from her without a word and striding to the door.

“Rounds?” he asked Dr. Sathe who nodded.

“I’d like your opinion on a case in the ICU, if you have the time?”

Amay didn’t waste time with a response, just changed direction so they were heading towards the ICU. Sathe fell in step beside him.

“What do you make of all that?” Sathe asked, jerking his head towards Dhrithi’s room, the door to which was fast receding from sight.

Amay grunted. He had no interest in being a part of the gossip mill that fueled the hospital like steroids in a hamster. Especially not when it came to a toxic scrap of his past. They reached the ICU without another word and pushed through the large double doors into the hushed quiet behind it.

“The case?” Amay asked, following Sushant’s lead to a middle aged man in a corner bed. The patient was fast asleep, his thin, frail chest rising and falling in a reassuringly steady manner.

“Kidney failure,” Sushant said grimly. “With the added complication of cystic fibrosis.”

“And you want my opinion on?”

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