Shadows Of Darjeeling

Chapter 9

The car hummed quietly as it descended the hill, leaving the graveyard behind. Aarnav sat in the backseat, his elbow resting against the window, his gaze distant. His mind churned, replaying the promises he'd made to his mother. He clenched his jaw, the sharp ache in his chest a reminder of emotions he usually didn't allow himself to feel.

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, his brow furrowed. "Sir, shall I take you home?"

Aarnav shook his head, his voice low but firm. "No. Take me to Aadi's place."

"Yes, sir," the driver replied, but his concern lingered. After a moment of silence, he tried again. "It's late, sir. Shall I wait there to drive you back?"

Aarnav's lips pressed into a thin line. "No need. Go home after you drop me off. I'll walk back."

The driver hesitated for a moment, but he knew better than to argue. "Very well, sir."

The drive was long, the streets growing quieter as they neared Aadi Pandey's neighborhood. Aarnav's thoughts didn't let up. His father's stern face, his endless demands, the weight of his expectations-it all loomed large, suffocating him. And now, the suspicion that had been eating away at him for years felt sharper. His father was hiding something. He could feel it.

After half an hour, the car slowed to a stop in front of a modest yet elegant house. The warm glow of the porch light illuminated the familiar sight of Aadi's home. Aarnav stepped out of the car, pausing to give the driver a nod. "Go home. I'll manage."

The driver hesitated. "Are you sure, sir?"

"Yes," Aarnav said, his tone final. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked toward the house.

As he approached, Aadi emerged from the side yard, his phone in hand. He jumped slightly when he saw Aarnav. "Whoa! You scared me, man."

But his grin quickly faded as he took in Aarnav's face. His usual stoic demeanor was darker, his eyes carrying a storm that was impossible to miss. Aadi frowned. "What's with you? You look worse than usual."

Aarnav smirked faintly, but there was no humor in it. "Just let me in, Aadi."

"Sure, sure. Come on," Aadi said, stepping aside to let him through. "You want something? Coffee? Tea? Whiskey?"

Aarnav shook his head, kicking off his shoes near the door. "I'm good."

They settled into Aadi's living room, the warm, casual space a stark contrast to the tension radiating off Aarnav. Aadi sat on the couch across from him, watching his friend closely. "Okay, spill. What's going on?"

Aarnav leaned back, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, he said nothing, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. But then, the words started tumbling out. "It's my father," he began, his voice quiet but steady. "He's hiding something from me, Aadi. Something big. I can feel it."

Aadi raised an eyebrow. "Your father? Mr. Rishi Rawat, the man who never even blinks without calculating its ROI? What do you think he's hiding?"

Aarnav exhaled sharply, his frustration evident. "I don't know. That's the problem. But it's there. I see it in the way he talks about my mom, the way he shuts down whenever I bring her up. He's hiding something about her death. And I'm going to find out what it is."

Aadi's expression softened. "Aarnav... you've been carrying this for a long time, haven't you?"

Aarnav's jaw tightened. "Since the day she died."

Aadi leaned forward, his tone gentle. "Look, I know you think your dad's some kind of evil mastermind, but maybe he's just... dealing with it in his own way? People grieve differently."

"It's not grief," Aarnav snapped, his voice rising slightly. "It's guilt. I can see it in his eyes. He knows something, and he's not telling me."

Aadi leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, alright. Let's say you're right. What are you planning to do about it?"

Aarnav's gaze was sharp. "Whatever it takes."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Aadi studied his friend, his heart aching for him. Aarnav had always been like this-determined, unyielding, and carrying far too much weight on his shoulders.

"Hey," Aadi said softly. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you don't have to do this alone, man. You've got me, Naman... even Lily. We're here for you."

Aarnav scoffed, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "I don't need help, Aadi. I just need answers."

Aadi sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get through to him tonight. But he wasn't about to let Aarnav sink further into his dark thoughts. He decided to change the subject.

"Alright, Mr. Broody McBroodface," Aadi said, his tone lightening. "Let's talk about something less depressing. Did you hear about the party St. Joseph's is hosting this Saturday night?"

Aarnav raised an eyebrow. "No. And I don't care."

"Oh, come on," Aadi said, grinning. "It's a big deal. All the prestigious schools are invited. It's like a New Year's party and a welcome-back bash rolled into one. Everyone's going to be there."

"I said I don't care," Aarnav replied flatly.

Aadi groaned dramatically. "Don't be such a buzzkill! You can't keep sulking forever. Besides, it'll be fun. Music, dancing, free food... and who knows, maybe you'll meet someone."

Aarnav shot him a pointed look. "Not interested."

Aadi leaned closer, clasping his hands together as if in prayer. "Please, man. I'm begging you. I can't go alone. Naman ditched me for some family thing, and I'll look like a loser without you."

Aarnav sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're insufferable."

"And you love me for it," Aadi quipped, grinning.

After a long pause, Aarnav relented. "Fine. I'll go. But only because you'll never shut up otherwise."

Aadi pumped his fist in triumph. "Yes! You won't regret it, man. I promise."

Aarnav leaned back, shaking his head. "I already do."