𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆

PART-9

Sahab = Sir

-*-*-

"Rudraksh..." Anusuiya's voice trembled as she pulled him into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of him, the coarse fabric of his worn shirt beneath her fingers, the way his arms hesitated before circling her-everything filled her chest with a rush of relief and aching love.

For a fleeting moment, a stiff smile touched Rudraksh's lips. The storm of the past weeks seemed to ease, as though he were a river briefly touching its source again. Yet the calm never stayed; it slipped away as quickly as it came, leaving only a restless current within him.

Her trembling hands clutched his arms as she scanned his bearded face. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her voice cracking under the weight of a plea.

"Where have you been, beta? Do you know how worried we were?" Her thumb traced slow, anxious patterns over his skin, as if anchoring herself to his presence.

Rudraksh remained tight-lipped, just looking at his mother's animated expression as she continued further.

"Did you forget me, Rudraksh? Did someone else mean more to you than your own mother?" Her question lingered, raw and fragile, her gaze desperate for reassurance.

Siddharth and Karan exchanged a glance, their lips curving into awkward smiles at the outpouring of emotion. Yet Rudraksh didn't look away from his mother. He searched her eyes as though trying to read a language only she knew.

Sighing softly, he pulled her into another hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Please... forgive me."

The words were soft, but hollow. Anusuiya felt the emptiness tucked beneath them, yet she clung to the warmth of his embrace all the same. Her hands fluttered over his face as if brushing away shadows, before pressing them briefly to her own temples - a gesture of relief, of silent gratitude.

After a moment of one-sided affection, she turned aside with a tender smile and ushered the boys inside. "Come, have breakfast."

Siddharth and Karan obeyed, exchanging another nervous glance as they sat at the table. Their hearts still raced, waiting for the storm they knew hadn't passed.

Rudraksh, however, drifted toward the staircase, his silence heavy.

He had barely lifted his foot to the first step when a servant appeared, bowing low. "Rudraksh baba, Judge sahab has summoned you to his study."

Rudraksh's chest tightened. He drew in a long breath, masking the tremor in his pulse. "I'm coming," he said, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.

The servant bowed again and withdrew.

Rudraksh turned toward the corridor, each step echoing louder than the last. The path stretched endlessly before him, lined with memories of old confrontations, of promises broken and trust fractured.

His heartbeat quickened, hammering in his chest like a drum summoning him to judgment. The carved wooden door of his father's study loomed ahead - an unyielding threshold between him and the reckoning he could no longer outrun.

Rudraksh's mouth turned dry, his palms slick with sweat. He rubbed his fingers together, a nervous tic he couldn't shake, and knocked gently. The hollow thud seemed louder in the silence of the corridor.

"Come in." The voice from inside was clipped, steady.

His throat worked in a hard gulp as he pressed the handle, leaving damp smears of sweat on the brass. The door creaked open, and he stepped into the dim room where the smell of old paper and polished leather hung heavy.