Page 55 of Born in Grief

“All through a shell company?”

“Not all,” Virat corrected. “The ones in Delhi and abroad are bought in his name.”

Amay’s brow furrowed as he thought it through. “What do you think he was up to besides the obvious?”

“It’s not drugs. He’s a user, not a dealer.” Virat leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head.

“How do you know that?” Ishaan asked.

“I know his dealer.”

“What do you suspect?” Amay knew Virat had something in his mind, something he wasn’t voicing. There was never a moment when Virat didn’t know…something. There were just moments when he wasn’t ready to reveal it.

Virat looked at him, his eyes troubled, a glimpse of old pain and ruinous memories floating in them. “He’s still in touch with them, all of them. Every single one.”

No. No fucking way.

“You think it has something to do with…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He felt Ishaan still beside him, a dangerous stillness, the calm before a catastrophic storm.

“What’s the predominant theme you see in Dhrithi’s stories about her marriage?”

“Abuse.”

“Think with your brain, Amay. The very large brain God gave you. Not with your heart.”

“He beat her, he cheated on her, he –“

“Sex. Control. Power.” Ishaan’s answer cut through his monologue. “You think it has something to do with that night. At Crestwood.”

Amay stopped talking, his mind immediately dragging him back to a rainswept night, old screams echoing in his head.

“Amay no! Don’t do it.” Ishaan’s scream was cut off by the sickening crunch of a fist in his face.

Amay glanced up at the sneering face looming over him. His hand clenched, his heart thundering in his ears, drowning out the soft moans from the girl. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t look at her and not see his friend, wrapped around her, his body a dead weight that wouldn’t stop sheltering her, shielding her naked body from view. He saw Varun raise a legand kick Virat in his ribs, the impact making his body rise and fall but no sound came from him.

Amay swung his arm, fist ready, a primal roar tearing from his throat, fear and anguish pouring from him. Only for his hand to be caught in mid-air by HIM.

“Would you look at that?” HE purred. “The little baby wants to fight.”

“What night at Crestwood?” Dhrithi’s voice sliced through his nightmare, bringing him back to his present.

Where had she come from? Wasn’t she supposed to be in her room?

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Amay said sharply. “Go to your room.”

Her eyebrows winged up, anger and humiliation bringing colour to her ashen cheeks. “I am not a child to be ordered to my room.”

“This doesn’t concern you.” Amay’s hands still shook from the force of the memory that had rattled through him.

“It sounds like it does,” she snapped. “What did Varun do back at Crestwood and what does it have to do with what’s happening now?”

Amay could feel a thin film of sweat break out on his forehead. “Dhrithi-“

“This has something to do with the way you guys left school.” She frowned, her school topper brain picking its way through old memories. “You weren’t expelled, I remember that much. At least not formally. But you did leave overnight and we weren’tallowed to talk about or to you guys or ask any questions. It was like overnight you stopped existing.”

His heart thudded to an abrupt stop before picking up again.

“What did Varun have to do with it? What happened?”

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