Page 57 of Born in Grief

“We stumbled upon them.” Amay’s voice leaked bitterness and shame. “When we realised what was happening, we tried to help. But, we weren’t heroes. We were collateral damage in a battle we had no skills to fight.”

“They beat the shit out of us,” Ishaan said bluntly. “They would probably have killed us but a teacher heard our screams and came looking. If not for him…”

“What happened after that?” She knew what would have happened even before she asked the question but her wet eyes found Amay’s disgusted ones.

“What do you think happened? They had all the power. We had none. Scholarship students and unwanted children have always had none. We got thrown out of school. They didn’t expel us on the condition that we would keep our silence, but we had to leave immediately. If we made a noise, even a whisper, about what happened that night, they would ensure that we weren’t accepted into any college, anywhere in the world.”

“And the Dusty Devils?” The name was a burning brand on her tongue, one she wanted to spit out and curse.

Ishaan laughed, a sharp blade of sound. “Well, they thrived, didn’t they? Each one a greater success than the last.”

“And the girl?” she asked, her voice almost inaudible. “Is she okay?”

“Would you be, if it were you?” Virat asked, the first words he’d spoken, his voice a jagged sword. He looked down now, his gaze on the road far below and for a brief second, fear clutched at Dhrithi’s gut. She took an instinctive step forward but before she could say anything, Virat unclenched his hands from the railing and stepped back, his expression smoothening out, mask sliding back into place.

“What-“ She wet her lips, struggling to marshal her thoughts and ask the right questions. “What do you think this has to do with what is happening now?”

“We don’t know,” Ishaan answered. “But if that bunch is still going strong, whatever they’re involved in is nothing good.”

“No more,” Amay said quietly, his words dropping like stones in the quiet that had fallen around them. “This ends now. We couldn’t end it then but whatever this is, it ends now. We will end it for them.”

He glanced at Dhrithi, a challenge in his gaze. This was her world he was talking about detonating, the world her family still lived in, one to which she still belonged. The grieving widow of the rich, powerful Varun Gokhale, the dutiful bahu of an industrial powerhouse, Bharat Gokhale.

She met his gaze, resolve filling her and strengthening her spine.

“How can I help?”

Chapter Thirty-Four

AMAY

The only light in her bedroom came from the dim glow of the bedside table lamp. It gilded her hair, still loose and tumbled, falling almost to her waist. He remembered her two, tight braids at school, every day, rain or shine, they framed her serious face in class. How the studious bookworm in their class had caught the eye of someone like Varun who sat in the last row and heckled the teacher most of the time was something that still baffled Amay. But caught his eye, she had…and that had rewritten the script of their life.

She was frowning down at her phone, her teeth worrying at her lower lip.

“What’s wrong?”

His question had her head shooting up. He hated the wariness that filled her gaze, but he understood it. Tonight had been a lot. When she didn’t answer his question immediately, he held up the plate of food he’d brought her.

“You didn’t join us for dinner,” he said quietly. “So, I brought you some.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured. “I would have fixed a plate for myself later.”

He shrugged, stepping in to place the plate on her bedside table. She turned to look at him, their faces on the same level and for a second, her eyes dropped to his lips, a soft flush warming her cheeks, before she looked away.

His gut clenched, the need that forever swam in his veins for this woman, roaring in response to what he saw in her face. Amay cleared his throat and stepped back. This wasn’t the time and place. There might never be a time and place. Not for them.

“You have your review scheduled at the hospital tomorrow.”

She shifted restlessly on the bed, pulling her legs up and crossing them to get more comfortable. “Can’t you just check me out here?”

“No. If you don’t turn up at the hospital, they’ll follow up and with the police following the case, we don’t want anything to blip on their radar.”

“Why would the cops be interested in my post-surgery checkup?”

“They’re tracking everything about you right now,” he told her bluntly. She flinched, averting her face from his.

“They’re searching your primary residence tomorrow,” he added. “Do you want to reach out to his family or yours for anything?”

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