Author's POV:-
The air in Karan's expansive penthouse was not one of wealth, but of stale, metallic fear, a tangible shroud that clung to every surface. The city lights, usually a vibrant tapestry of life, seemed muted and sickly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting only the hollow dread within. A phantom chill seeped into the very bones of the occupants, though the high-tech climate control was perfectly set.
Ritu, or rather, Ishika—the identity was fluid, bleeding into the raw wound of the present—lay curled on a pristine white sofa, her arm tightly bandaged, stark against the fabric. Aaradhya, her face a study in grim concentration, meticulously cleaned the deep, ragged slice, her movements precise, almost clinical. The silence was thick, punctured only by the hiss of antiseptic spray and Ishika's shallow, pained breaths.
Advik was a statue of despair, carved from hardened grief. He sat on an adjacent couch, spine rigid, his stare fixed on a patch of wallpaper that held no secrets, yet seemed to swallow all his attention, a void into which he poured his silent agony. Rudransh and Karan stood sentinel nearby, their faces grim masks of disbelief, fear, and mounting anxiety, each tic of a muscle betraying a struggle to comprehend the inexplicable.
Finally, Karan, unable to bear the oppressive quiet that was stretching into a chasm, a silent scream in the opulent room, exploded.
"What happened there?" His voice was hoarse, raw, a desperate plea rather than an accusation, his gaze darting between the injured Ishika and the catatonic Advik. "Ishika, Advik, for God's sake, talk to me!"
Neither Ishika nor Advik offered the slightest movement, lost in their own terror. Ishika's eyes remained shut, a single tear tracing a path through the grime on her cheek.
"Don't just sit there like the world ended!" Karan's shout, laced with frantic fear, rattled the crystal glasses on the bar. "Give me something! A word, a glance, anything! Ishika, your arm, goddammit! Advik, you look like you've seen a ghost!"
Ishika flinched, biting back a whimper of pain, her bandaged arm throbbing in protest. She swallowed hard, her throat utterly parched, her voice a dry rasp, barely audible. "She... she knew."
Rudransh stepped forward, his eyes locked on Advik's unmoving profile, a primal fear beginning to coil in his gut. "Knew what, Ishika? Knew what?!"
"Who?" Karan demanded simultaneously, his brain scrambling for context, for any foothold in this terrifying new reality.
"Will you both shut up and let her speak?!" Aaradhya snapped, her focus shifting briefly from the gauze to glare at the two frantic men. "You're not helping! Ishika needs to breathe." She turned back to Ishika, her tone softening to professional concern, though her eyes were sharp with demand. "Take a breath. Steady yourself. What happened? Did you see the attackers clearly? Was there more than one?"
Ishika nodded, the motion slight, almost imperceptible. She opened her eyes, vast pools of trauma that reflected a terror beyond words. "It—it was... Rhea." The name was a fragile whisper, yet it landed like a heavy stone, disturbing the fragile surface of the pretense they had built, shattering the peace they'd never truly known.
Karan's scoff was immediate, dismissive, laced with a bitter laugh of disbelief. "Rhea? That's rubbish! Absolute rubbish! Rhea can't do this. You're delirious, Ishika! I've known her for almost more than ten years, she wouldn't hurt a fly!"
"I knew it," Aaradhya muttered under her breath, adjusting the bandage with unnecessary force, as if to physically quell her own unease. "That girl was too sus. Always utterly sus. Her eyes, her smile... there was always something cold lurking behind them."
YOU ARE READING
Whisper in the Night
Romance#BOOK 1 A stranger hands Kaira an old diary. A message calls her to a place she's never heard of. And one night changes everything. Secrets rise. Identities blur. People she trusts begin to look like strangers. Kaira thought her past was gone- but s...
