30. WHISPERS OF TANGLED THREAD

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Avya (4)
(Twenty years ago)

"Papa," I called, pointing at the stars with one hand and holding my favorite ice cream cone in the other.

He turned his head to look at me, a small frown on his face, as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tried to clean the ice cream from the tip of my nose.

"Uhm," I displayed my anger, folding my hands and pouting, as he didn't look at the stars I was showing him first.

They looked so beautiful.

I yanked his sleeve forcefully, turning my head to the side so he couldn't clean my ice-cream-covered nose.

"Accha baba, what?" he said, giving up and finally looking at the night sky I was pointing at.

I immediately smiled, pointing upwards, excitedly.

Papa looked sad nowadays.

We were waiting at the open ice cream shop at roadside, because I wanted it.

Otherwise, we  would have been traveling.

Papa kept to himself too much.

He was sad, and when he was sad, Avya didn't like it.

That's why I was showing Papa the stars.

They were so pretty. And they made me happy, maybe Papa will like them too.

"Papa, stars," I said, pointing my finger at the brightest one. It was visible only because we were away from the city.

He looked up, a small look of sadness passing across his face.

I immediately asked a question to stop him from being more sad. "Papa, which is your favorite star?"

For a minute, he was silent.

Then he looked at me with the same sad look he had every time I asked about Mumma.

"You," he said.

I giggled at his response. Avya liked stars.

"Me?" I asked.

"Yes, you. You are my starlight," he said softly, as he finally cleaned the ice cream from my nose with his hanky and picked me up into his arms.

The most safest arms for any daughter.

The only man she trusts, first and most: her father.

___________________________

Dr. Abhir Rawal finally, entered the room, his presence pulling me back into memories so deep that, for a moment, I forgot his cold voice and the sleepless nights of the past three months.

Monster—that's what he had turned into.

The memory far from the past still stayed in my heart, a beacon of light in an oasis of darkness.

I looked up at Dr. Abhir Rawal, the man who once was my Papa. Today, he was just a man who shared the same DNA as mine.

As the scene unfolded before my eyes, as soon as Hridhaan demanded, Dr. Mathur immediately called for Dr. Abhir to be sent urgently to his office.

My mentor was still trying to catch my eye, clearly displeased that I haven't told him about my unplanned marriage, and I skillfully avoided any eye contact.

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