The Shadow of Retribution: A tale of vengeance and the price of justice.

Chapter 4

The Past

August 13th, 2022
Kathmandu, Nepal.

I began my day early, eager to tackle tasks at school where I taught primary students. Having recently committed to marriage, I felt refreshed and enthusiastic. Following a conversation with D the previous night, I looked forward to sharing my engagement news with colleagues, explaining my lack of interest in other men. As I was leaving, an uneasy feeling settled in my chest, like something might go wrong. D hadn't called, and though he had reached out yesterday, it all felt almost too good to be true.

He called me around 6 p.m. last evening.

"Baby, I'm here. Please wait for me, and don't change your mind," he said.

I chuckled. "How could you even think that, D?" I asked.

He laughed softly. "I'm just teasing, my love. I know you won't, and I won't either. Just a few more months until December, and then we'll be married."

I couldn't tell who was more excited, him or me, but he always seemed to love me just a little more.

"I'm going to get you a Sabhyasachi, and it'll be perfect—just like you always dreamed of, wearing a red Sabhyasachi on our wedding day," he said.

He always knew exactly how to make me happy, but this felt like too much.

"It's really too much, D. Let's keep it simple," I replied.

"No way. Only the best for the best," he insisted, and I knew there was no winning this argument. I had to give in.

I had my own surprise planned for him too—a simple pair of platinum couple rings, one of which was the ring he gave me when he first asked me out.

After a pause, he added, "I'm going to grab drinks and smoke some weed with the guys."

I didn't like the idea of him doing that again, especially with them, but he convinced me by calling it his "bachelor's party", of course, it wasn't, but I agreed anyway.

Today, he hadn’t called at all. Was he hungover and sleeping it off? Or was he busy with something else? Knowing him, he was probably still smoking. It was time for me to head to school, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling as I left.

At school, I excitedly shared the news with the girls, but in the back of my mind, I was still worried. He hadn’t reached out, and it was making me anxious. I couldn’t eat, but I also didn’t want the girls to notice anything was wrong.

By 5 p.m., I headed home, still no calls or messages from him, and by now, I was pretty pissed off. I booked a bike and started the ride home. Halfway there, it started raining, and I felt that wave of unease again. I just wanted to cry for no reason.

After 40 minutes, I reached home, drenched, and went straight to the shower. When I came out, I saw that my sister, KJ, had been trying to call me. KJ, as I called her, wasn’t my sister by blood but definitely by heart, and she knew D well—she’d seen him grow up. What caught me off guard was that she’d video-called me on Instagram. She never does that. I mean, never.

I finally answered after seeing the missed calls from her. As soon as I picked up, I noticed her expression was grim.

"Sis, brace yourself. I need to tell you something, but you have to stay strong," she said.

A strange feeling came over me, but I nodded silently.

"Jared was killed last night around 1 a.m. on the highway in Delhi," she blurted out, barely pausing to breathe.

A rush of emotions flooded me, but I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t believe it. I thought maybe Jared had put her up to this as a cruel joke. Not a single tear fell.

"Little one, what I’m saying is true. Check the news on Facebook or Instagram. You’ll see it," she urged, but I couldn’t focus on her words.

Everything went dark. The curtains closed on my world, and all I could see was Jared's smile flashing before my eyes.

The only words that echoed in my head were, "Jared was killed."