BEDIL SHERGILL || ✔ ||

[17] : Heart In Ruins

Drishti's hand shook violently as she again held the phone to her ear. The voice of Inspector Sharma, calm and methodical, seemed distant and surreal amidst the cacophony of her racing thoughts. Her mind refused to process the gravity of the situation, clinging instead to fragments of denial and disbelief.

"Please... tell me he's going to be okay. He has to be." She spoke, her voice cracking.

"I wish I could give you better news. He's in a critical condition. The doctors are doing everything they can, but it's serious." Inspector Sharma spoke, his voice quiet but firm.

The words felt like icy daggers, piercing through the thin veil of her composure. Drishti's breathing quickened, each inhale sharp and ragged. Her vision swam with tears, blurring the room around her. She felt as if she were falling into an abyss, the reality of Rakshit's peril dragging her deeper with each passing second.

"Where are you? What hospital? I need to be there." she uttered, her voice rising in desperation.

"We're at City Hospital as I stated before. The emergency room is on the second floor. Please come as soon as you can."

Drishti's grip on the phone tightened. Her mind raced through a haze of fragmented thoughts-each one a sharp reminder of her recent actions and the bitter truth she had uncovered. The guilt that had been a gnawing presence in her heart now felt like an insurmountable weight, crushing her from all sides. She had been so focused on proving Rakshit's guilt that she had never imagined she might end up here, confronting the possibility of losing him.

"I... I'm coming. I'll be there right away." her voice stammered as her mind wandered into the worst conclusions possible.

She ended the call and stared at her phone, her heart pounding in her chest like a trapped beast. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls pressing inward as if to contain the storm raging inside her. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as she struggled to steady herself.

With a jolt, she pushed herself up from the floor, her legs feeling like lead as she stumbled towards the door. Her mind was a blur of urgent thoughts, each one more frantic than the last.

Drishti's footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as she rushed towards the grand staircase leading to Mahima's wing of the mansion. Every step felt like a lifetime, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and urgency. She knew Mahima despised her-had always viewed her with suspicion and disdain-but none of that mattered now. Rakshit's life was hanging by a thread, and she had to tell his mother, no matter how much it pained her.

She reached the door to Mahima's sitting room and hesitated for a brief moment, steeling herself for what she had to do. Taking a deep breath, she knocked quickly and then pushed the door open without waiting for a response. Mahima was seated in her armchair, flipping through a magazine, her expression indifferent until she saw Drishti.

"What do you want, Drishti? I have no time for your games." She spoke coldly.

Drishti's breath caught in her throat at the icy reception, but she forced herself to speak, her voice cracking under the weight of the news she was about to deliver.

"Aunty... Rakshit's been in a terrible accident. He's in critical condition at City Hospital." She spoke urgently, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and regret.

For a moment, Mahima stared at Drishti as if the words hadn't registered. Then, like a dam breaking, the color drained from her face, and the magazine slipped from her hands.

"What did you just say? What have you done to him?" Her voice held a hint of panic and fear.

"I didn't do anything, Aunty. He... he was in a car crash. They're trying to save him, but it's bad. I'm leaving for the hospital right now." She shook her head, tears dropping continuously from her eyes.