Reclaimed Legacy

(7) - The Chase Begins

The sky over Udaipur was clear, yet within Armaan's heart, a storm raged as he stood on the terrace, his phone call with the police man echoing in his ears. The words he had heard had the power to shatter him, but Armaan wasn't ready to accept them as the final truth. An accident in Mussoorie... survivors ... Abhira Sharma might be deceased.

His heartbeat thundered louder than the conversation itself. Without wasting another second, Armaan ran down the terrace stairs, desperate to reach his room. His legs moved before his mind could fully process it; instinct was leading him. The moment he burst into his room, his eyes frantically scanned the shelves, drawers, and wardrobes.

His passport. Where was his passport?

Hands trembling, he tossed papers and clothes onto the floor in a frenzy, every second feeling like a lifetime. "It has to be here!" he muttered, frustration growing as panic swelled within him. His thoughts raced between horror and hope. If she wasn't dead, then where was she? Because he refused to believe that she was among the list of deceased. 

The door creaked open. It was Krish, standing there with wide eyes. "Bhai, what's going on? I saw you running from the terrace, like you've seen a ghost or something."

Armaan didn't pause. His movements were rapid, disordered, but Krish could see the raw emotion in his brother's face—fear. "Book me a ticket for Mussoorie. Now! The next flight!" Armaan ordered.

Krish's confusion turned into alarm. "Why Mussoorie? What happened?"

Without a word, Armaan shoved his phone at Krish, the news report flashing on the screen. It was all there—the accident, the missing, the dead.

Krish's throat went dry. "Oh my God, Abhira Bhabhi... Is she—?"

"I don't know," Armaan snapped, his voice breaking with desperation. "I don't know. I have to go. I need to find her." He couldn't breathe until he saw her, felt her presence, or confirmed the worst. "Just book the damn ticket, Krish!"

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Krish nodded. "I'm coming with you."

Both brothers hurried down the staircase, their footsteps echoing like thunder through the Poddar mansion. In the living room, the entire family was seated, their voices filling the space with tense discussion.

Sanjay was speaking to Dadisa, his tone low and serious. "We should be grateful. If we had invited outsiders to the wedding, the entire city of Udaipur would have been talking about it by now. The eldest Poddar son, refusing to marry, at the bride's house of all places! The Goenkas might have lost face, but we would have been dragged down with them."

Dadisa nodded silently, her face drawn tight in thought. Kaveri Poddar, the matriarch of the family, had always been a woman of unshakable pride. Her power over the family was undeniable, but beneath the steely exterior was a fear—fear of shame, fear of society's judgment.

In the depths of her mind, she held no great love for Ruhi or Abhira. The two women represented different kinds of burdens in her eyes. Ruhi, once married to her beloved grandson Rohit, was now a bitter reminder of an impossible situation. Rohit was gone, and though Ruhi had once been part of their family, the truth of her past love for Armaan was hard for Kaveri to swallow. The idea of her marrying her late husband's brother filled Kaveri with disgust, but it had seemed like a solution—a way to rid the family of that girl, the woman who had dared to question Kaveri's authority in her own home.

But now, with Abhira gone from Udaipur, her departure was a small relief for Kaveri. Whether Armaan and Ruhi married now seemed irrelevant to her. The matter that had troubled her most was gone. Abhira, the girl who had stood tall against her commands, was out of their lives. If she stayed gone, perhaps everything could return to the way it once was.