Secrets Hidden In Time

25 | The Shadow On The Brass Flowerpot

________________________________________________________________________________

I request you, please vote and comment. It won't take more than a second of your precious time.

Word Count - 2840 [Short but important]

Song - Raat Akeli Thi [Merry Christmas]

Play the song from the beginning of the chapter.

________________________________________________________________________________

25 | The Shadow On The Brass Flowerpot

Through the mantilla of her tranquilizing silence, Mahadevan realized the fact that she lived in the realm of retribution and he in the world of moral conundrum and redemption. She lived in the remembrance of the days when she was happy. He on the other hand lived in a constant battle to omit the memories of the days that made him feel empty.

His eyes keenly observed her as she detached her shivery hands from his tight hold. Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she averted her gaze from his, and then she promptly strode straight out of the study.

Mahadevan gulped. His jaws ticked as he blankly stared at the wall.

And in the spur of the moment, the very next second, he picked up the MacBook and violently slammed it right against the wall ahead. The MacBook destructively dashed against the wall, smashing itself into smithereens.

Eyes aglow in fury, his massive frame convulsed in wrath and displeasure. With swift movements of his sturdy legs, he hurriedly trod towards the familiar heavy oak vintage bookcase at the far right corner of the office.

Extracting out the bronze skeleton key from the drawer constructed at the centre of the ancient-looking bookcase, he inserted it into the keyhole that was situated just above the drawer and gyrated it on its axis. He then pulled the wooden handlebar located up on the left side of the bookcase and unlocked the door of the closed ancient-looking wooden unit. Next to the nine-teen leather diaries that were arranged symmetrically in the bookcase, was a silver antique embossed box. He longingly peered at it.

Taking a deep breath, he redirected his gaze from the box to look at the diaries kept beside it. His hands quivered as he gently picked up one, kept at the right end. Tenderly cradling the leather diary in his palms, he turned around, his back facing towards the bookcase. Leaning his head against the vintage wooden case, he glided down its uneven surface, eventually settling down on the floor.