VEER AGNIHOTRI
Hidden in the shadows, I rise unseen,
A ghost in their army, cunning and keen.
Forming my own from the wreckage of the past,
My father's gone, but I'll find him at last.
She steps back into my life, a spark from before,
But darkness...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Carter Reid is your new identity."
Veer Agnihotri no longer existed.
My father had killed his only son.
"Is this necessary?" Mom repeated, wiping her puffy red eyes. It had been only a few hours since we orchestrated that accident.
I remained seated on the bed, instructed to stay hidden in Uncle Virat's manor until taken to Los Angeles on a private jet.
"You know it better than anyone, Inaaya," Dad said sternly. "You changed your identity to survive, and our son must follow in your footsteps if he wants to live."
Today, I found out that Inaaya was not Mom's birth name. She was a runaway with a fake identity when she met Dad. He married her, making it her real identity. She refused to disclose the name her mother gave her, unwilling to reveal the skeletons in her closet, because it would remind her of the forgotten past.
Her bottom lip quivered. "He's a kid, Ahaan. How will he live there on his own?"
"He's seventeen; almost a man. We're providing him with a house and car, got him into a good school, and he can buy other resources with the monthly allowance."
"You're being harsh with him. This position has changed you."
"This position demands it. Otherwise, we'd have been dead long ago."
A position neither would tell me about. The same position they argued over after a ten-year-old me was rescued from a kidnapping attempt. After a thirteen-year-old me was held hostage in my bed because some intruders managed to break through the tight security of our home. It made me wonder how many truths they were hiding, how long they planned to comfort me with sweet lies.
Like Dad said, I wasn't a kid anymore. I deserved to know our family secrets.
"I want to go with him," Mom asserted, stepping forward with unwavering determination.
Dad stood tall and unrelenting. "Not possible."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"You can kill your son, but you can't kill me?"
Dad, who was an impenetrable force even at fifty-two, winced. Only Mom could shatter his steel armor. "Stop." He grabbed her wrists and she glared through tears. "I haven't killed him, and I will never kill you. I started it for you and I will continue for our son," he spoke in a soft voice, which he often used with her unless their argument reached another level.
The reason was always me.
"I don't care if I die protecting you two. But you must understand that this is for his good," he added.
