Page 26 of Born in Grief

Dhrithi looked at her father. “About you? What do you mean?”

Her father was the CEO of a leading textile company and he’d also been a very smart investor for most of their lives. Why exactly was Dhrithi supposed to worry about him?

“Three hundred crores,” he reminded her. “There was a reason why you married him.”

“A reason why you forced me to marry him, you mean.” If they were going to remind each other of the past, they should do it right.

“Three. Hundred. Crores.” Her father leaned over her bedside, his face incandescent with rage.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

“Dhrithi-“

“No.” She cut him off, her voice firm, her own temper rising to meet his. “This freedom didn’t come easily to me, but I have it now. I paid for it with blood, with broken bones, and with shredded flesh. I paid for it with sixteen years of my life. No one is taking it from me. Not you, not the Gokhales. Not even Varun’s ghost. NO ONE.”

None of them noticed the open door or the police officer standing there. Not until it was too late.

Chapter Sixteen

AMAY

He walked across the hospital parking lot, the hood pulled up on his sweatshirt, hands tucked into his jeans. If he didn’t make eye contact with anyone, he wouldn’t have to talk to them. If he didn’t talk to them, he wouldn’t get pulled into discussions on cases or personal lives or anything really.

He had the day off tomorrow. A whole day to lounge in bed, to read a book, to watch a show, to live a life that didn’t require him to have his hands in someone else’s guts and gore. A whole day where he wouldn’t see Dhrithi. A day where she would possibly get discharged, go home to her gold-plated existence, and forget the fact that their lives ever crossed paths. Again.

“Dr. Aatre!”

Amay sighed, his thumb on his key holding it out to beep the car open. So close. So very, very close. One of the hospital board members, Mr. Vaishnav Saxena, scurried across the parking lot, pushing his glasses up his long nose with one finger. Amay shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for the man to reach him.

“Nice car,” Mr. Saxena said, an appreciative smile on his face as his gaze scanned the deep midnight blue BMW parked beside Amay.

“Thanks.” Amay smiled briefly, waiting for the older man to get to the point.

“Dr. Sathe will be getting discharged tomorrow. You did a great job with that one.”

Amay smiled politely, acknowledging the praise. Sushant had recovered well after the organ donation. Unfortunately, his brother was still not stable.

“You also did a wonderful job with the accident case. I reviewed the records.”

Amay stiffened. “Dhrithi Gokhale,” he said, the usage of the term ‘accident case’ feeling like a needle under his skin.

“Yes, yes. That one.” Saxena pushed his glasses up again. Amay watched it start its inexorable downward slide in the next second. “Brilliant job. I see you’ve cleared her for discharge tomorrow too.”

“I did.” Amay crossed his hands over his chest, his brow furrowing. “What’s this about, Mr. Saxena? I don’t remember the board reviewing every discharge decision I made before this.”

“Uh huh.” The man nodded, his glasses reaching the tip of his nose with each rapid head bob. He pushed it up again. “But this one is a bit high profile, isn’t it? So, we’ve been keeping an eye on it. Especially with the police involved.”

Amay stayed silent, waiting for the other man to fill that silence with information he wouldn’t otherwise share.

“It’s insane. The husband tried to murder her you know.”

And there it was.

“Do we know that for sure?” Amay asked mildly.

“Well,” Saxena laughed uneasily. “It’s what they suspect. Rumour has it,” he glanced around, his glasses tipping to one side on his face. He adjusted it, jamming it on harder. “That the filthy rich husband’s money was dirty.”

“All money in that league is dirty,” Amay said, staring over Saxena’s shoulders at the hospital building looming over them.

---