Page 50 of Born in Grief

Neither of them blinked for a moment. When the Inspector finally lowered his gaze to his papers, she took what felt like her first breath in a long time.

“What happened on the night of your accident?”

The breath she’d just taken tangled in her chest, a tightening around her ribs that made it hard to see straight.

“I-“ Her voice cracked and she took a moment to steady it. “He came home in a mood. That happened sometimes.”

“Because of work?”

Dhrithi shrugged. “I don’t know. He never explained. But when he was in a ‘mood,’ I knew I should hide. So, I did. In thecupboard.” She swiped at the sweat beading her upper lip. “But he found me.”

When she fell silent, the policeman prompted, “And?”

Dhrithi’s shoulders drooped, what was left of her spirit draining out of her as the memory of that night slammed through her. “You’ve seen the medical reports. You know what he did to me, that night and the days and nights that went before.”

She shut her eyes, wishing she could shut out the images running in a loop in her brain.

“He told me to run,” she whispered. “He liked the chase. He liked to chaseme.And then punish me for running from him even though he’s the one who asked me to run.”

She took a deep breath and clenched her shaking fingers. “I ran and then I saw the car keys. I wasn’t really thinking. I was scared and in pain and…I grabbed the keys, got in the car and left. He followed in another car and tried to stop me. The rest you know.”

“Do you think he was trying to kill you?”

“I don’t think anyone could ever know what was in his mind but if I had to guess, I would say no. I think he was just trying to get me to stop the car.”

“He was high on both cocaine and alcohol, a dangerous combination.”

“Yes,” she said, seeing no reason to deny it. Varun was an addict, an ill-concealed fact. That it wasn’t only cocaine and alcohol was information she didn’t volunteer.

“Did he frequently use drugs?”

“Yes.”

“Did he deal drugs?”

“I don’t know.” She frowned at the question. “Did he? Was that the other business?”

The Inspector smiled. “I don’t know,” he parroted back at her.

“So, you stayed for your brother,” he said now, pulling out a sheet of paper and staring at it.

“Partly,” she answered.

“And the other part?”

The words choked her, but she forced them out. “I didn’t know how to leave. He had too much power. I had no support. And…”

“And?”

“I was scared of him,” she admitted finally. “I thought of leaving him. All the time. I planned to that night as well. I wasn’t only hiding in the cupboard. I was trying to pack when he came home early and surprised me. I was trying to get free but-“

She stopped talking, her shaking hand going to her throat, surprised at the admission she’d made. She hadn’t come here for this. She’d planned to be more guarded, more careful.

“You are free now,” the Inspector said gently.

“Am I?”

“He’s dead.”

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