Page 83 of Born in Sin

Virat saw her hand tighten around the fork she was holding, her knuckles turning white. But a second later, she got up without a word and walked over to the water station.

“Haven’t you learned your lesson, Jha?” Varun’s sneer reappeared.

“No. And I won’t until I’ve taught you yours.”

A smile spread across his face. “Looks like I taught you a better one. Your girlfriend’s here Jha and she doesn’t look good.”

Virat was out of his seat even before Varun stopped talking, speed walking towards where Celina stood, Amay by her side.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze roving her face.

She nodded, her face tense, as she looked around the cafeteria.

“Celi,” he said gently. “Look at me.”

Her gaze darted to his face and then away a second later, her teeth chewing on her lips. “Yes,” she said, but it was an obvious lie. Something was clearly wrong.

“Celi.” He bent his knees slightly, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “Talk to me. Please.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

VIRAT

Worry gnawed at him as he checked his phone for the umpteenth time. There was no news from Cara. He monitored Majid’s calls and messages with obsessive frequency and watched as the other man paced on his screen.

His phone pinged and he pulled it out, hoping it was Cara. It was not. The group chat he shared with his friends lit up with messages. He tapped it open.

Ishaan: Yukhi has a theory.

Amay: Oh! If Yukhi has a theory, it must be the best one in the whole world, right, Vir?

Virat grinned reluctantly. He knew what his friends were doing. They were trying to distract him from the swirling vortex of doom that was his thoughts. He felt duty bound to play along.

Virat: Of course not. It would be the best one in the whole universe.

Ishaan: Fuckers. Do you want to hear it or not?

Amay: Do we have a choice?

Ishaan: Fine. I’m going. Now you’ll never know.

Virat: I just checked with Yukhi. She thinks Mohan and Celina’s mom might have been in on the DD’s grove scheme back at school. She also wonders if Mohan was their procurer. The one he was meeting off school grounds, through the gate.

Amay: So if Ishaan goes, it really doesn’t matter, does it? We’ll know anyway.

Ishaan: Oh go cut someone open, Dr. Dickhead.

Virat was still smiling to himself when Shourya gestured for his attention. He walked over to where he was standing, scanning the papers Shourya had enlarged on his screen. Mohan Swamy’s bank statements didn’t show any unusual deposits or withdrawals.

Since leaving Crestwood, he’d been taking private tuitions to make ends meet and seemed to have turned it into a fruitful business. He lived, quietly and comfortably, in his two-bedroom apartment. One room had been let out to a young IT professional and Mohan lived in the other. If Cara’s mother had been visiting him, she had certainly left no record of it. Same went for the DD’s. There was no trail linking him to anyone from Crestwood after he left in disgrace. Until today, with his address popping up as the next site for the rendezvous on Saturday.

“Do a run on the tenant,” he told Shourya, even as his mind mulled over a million possibilities. “Let me know what you find out.”

One of his techs stepped up to ask a question on another client’s case and the next hour flew by in untangling that wrangle.

Virat’s phone beeped again. It still wasn’t Celina. His worry mounted, knowing that Celina’s mother was always a flashpoint with her. The fact that they still lived together told him that she still hadn’t given up hope of a semblance of a decent relationship between them.

Through the rest of that evening, Virat waited, hoping she’d message or call him, but she didn’t. In the end, he caved and sent her a message.

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