under the wraps

Inheritance

Seven years later

"Stop right there or I will shoot you."

A little girl pointed her toy gun at Nitin and ordered him to raise his hands.

"But what's my crime?"
he asked, smiling.

"You are a criminal, and I am the police," she said seriously.
"And I will shoot you."

"You can't shoot every criminal,"
he replied, still smiling, picking Lucy from the grass near the flowers and rubbing her tiny feet.

"Why?"

"Because the law won't allow you."

"What is law?"
she asked innocently, sitting beside him on the grass.

"You'll know once you grow up," he said, pinching her nose.
"And you'll have to study for that too."

"But I don't like studying,"
she said, making a face.

"Well, you'll have to like it if you want to become a police officer like your mother."

Her eyes widened.

"Can I become like her if I study?"

"Yeah. For sure."

She smiled proudly.

"Well... where is your mother?"

"She's in the kitchen,"
she said, laughing, and started playing with Lucy again.

Nitin brushed the dust off his trousers and walked inside.

As soon as he stepped into the house, he could hear Vera from a distance. As always, she was angry.

"It's always me who has to do everything. No one here takes any responsibility."

She was talking to herself.

"Who's not taking responsibility?"
Nitin asked in a mocking tone.

She turned toward him, eyes burning.

"Who else?"
She pointed toward the couch in the drawing room, right in front of the kitchen.

Rudra was sitting there, watching TV.

"Him."

"He spends his entire weekend watching stupid stuff."

As if on cue, Rudra switched off the TV and walked toward the kitchen.

"Who is watching stupid stuff?"
he asked, equally mocking.

"You. Who else?"
Vera snapped, pointing the spatula at his face.
"It's always news, stupid matches, or podcasts. I do all the work. It would have been better if you had died that day—at least my BP wouldn't rise every day."

"Oh really?" Rudra stepped closer.
"Then how will you explain K-dramas, webtoons, anime, Japanese dramas, and podcasts? Aren't those stupid too?"

"And you were the one screaming, I love you, Rudra, I can't live without you.
Now all you do is fight with me. Is this how you treat the man who took a bullet for you?"

He mimicked her perfectly.

"Bullet my ass!"

She started hitting him with the spatula.

"Vera, stop! It hurts!"

"Oh, but you took a bullet for me. This is nothing."

They started running around the house like Tom and Jerry, Vera chasing him and hitting him.

"But you were the one who said it was yes!"
Rudra shouted, trying to save himself.

Nitin watched the whole scene from the doorway, smiling, arms crossed.

He then walked back into the garden.

Ruhani was standing there, staring at Lucy—who was eating a mouse.

Nitin made a face and covered her eyes.

"Don't look at that."

She pulled his hand away and looked at him.

"How does it feel when you see someone getting killed?"
she asked suddenly.

The question caught him off guard.

"It's painful," he said slowly.
"And creepy... and disgusting."

She tilted her head.

"Strange. I didn't feel anything."

She ran back inside the house.

Nitin stood there, staring at the empty garden.

For the first time in seven years, the air around him felt familiar.

Heavy.

Unsettling.

THE END

(It keeps it quiet. The horror lingers instead of shouting.)

Not all scars bleed.
Some fester quietly,
passed down like a shadow you can't shake—
not through violence,
but through the empty spaces left behind.

The story ends here.
What continues...
will find you anyway.