𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬.
Love is hope for the hopeless and sin for the saint. Love makes you do things you never intended to do, but it's distinct when you hold hands and promise to behold each oth...
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"Fuck." The word slipped from Dixit's mouth, sharp and unfiltered.
"Fucking fuck!" Aisha chimed in dramatically.
"Can you both stop with this fuck-fest?" I snapped, pressing my fingers to my temples. "My brain is spiraling into a black hole right now."
Dixit sighed, leaning back in his chair. "So, what's the plan? Are you actually going to meet Prisoner No. 704, or what? The assignment is due next week."
I'd told them almost everything. But not about the pendrive. That piece of my past stayed buried-too dark and unnecessary to share. "Relax," I muttered. "I know what I'm doing. My assignment is almost finished."
"Can't believe we're stalking a prisoner as law students," Aisha muttered, flopping back onto the couch. "This feels like a creepy sitcom-except we're the creeps."
The truth was, I hadn't stepped inside the prison in six days. The urge to see him was still there, gnawing at me, but what was the point? Instead, I found myself at the mandir just outside the prison. There was something calming about that place, something sacred. Every time I went, I brought white flowers.
For now, I was staying at my brother's place. After everything that had happened, it was safer this way, but I hated it here. I couldn't go out freely in my uncle's house. They were all so strict.
"So, what are you going to do, Nahella?" Aisha asked. "March inside the jail, extend your hand, and say, 'Hi, sorry I thought you were a bad person' to Prisoner 704?"
"Not funny," I hissed.
The truth was hard to ignore: Prisoner No. 704 wasn't entirely a bad person. The more I dug into his case, the more I realized how complicated it was. But he was still imprisoned for a bomb blast. And he'd committed several murders inside.
Dixit suddenly straightened up. "I have an idea. How about we all visit the prison together?" He said and I raised an eyebrow. "And with what reason?"
Aisha's grin turned sly. "What if I do my assignment on the same topic as you?" I stared at her. "And who are you planning to interview?"
"Whoever's available." She shrugged. Dixit groaned. "Fuck! I wish I wasn't in the criminology department-no interviews, no excuses to tag along. It's not fair."
"Guys," I interrupted, "the jail authorities won't let me back in. My uncle knows my assignment is already done."
Aisha frowned, but only for a moment before her face lit up again. "Wait-what if I go in first, and you just... tag along? For moral support?"
"Moral support for what?" I deadpanned. "For me, obviously," she said with mock innocence. Dixit sat up, grinning. "What if we frame it as a follow-up study? Law students showing interest in inmates-it'll sound legit."
Aisha snapped her fingers. "Exactly! I'll call it Psychological Impacts of Prison Life on Prisoners."
"You two are insane," I muttered, shaking my head.
