Falling from Grace

Chapter 5: Losing Control

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The pressure cooker of the Sharma household was about to explode.

Ritika paced back and forth in the living room, her hands clutched tightly around her phone. Outside, the reporters were relentless, their shouts audible even through the thick walls. The once-quiet street had transformed into a battlefield of flashing cameras and shouting voices. Rohit had ordered extra security to keep the press off their property, but even that felt insufficient.

"Ritika, stop pacing," Rohit said, his tone sharper than usual as he sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone. His normally composed face was etched with frustration. "You're making me dizzy."

She shot him a glare, her emotions teetering on the edge. "How can you sit there like this, Rohit? It's not going away! It's getting worse."

Rohit rubbed his temples, the weight of the situation visibly bearing down on him. He hadn't slept the night before, spending hours on calls with his PR team, his lawyer, and even a crisis manager. But no amount of damage control seemed to help. The media loved a scandal, and this one had all the ingredients to keep it alive—celebrity families, accusations, and a tragic twist.

Ritika stopped pacing and stared out the window. Samaira was in her room upstairs, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding her. For now. Ritika's heart clenched at the thought of her daughter hearing the vicious things being said about her.

"How do we protect her from this, Rohit?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"We are protecting her," Rohit replied, though his tone lacked conviction. "We've made our statement. The truth will come out eventually."

"Eventually?" Ritika snapped, turning to face him. "By then, the damage will be done! People already think Samaira is some kind of villain. She's four, Rohit. Four!"

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Rohit stood up, his towering frame radiating tension. "You think I don't know that, Ritika? You think I'm not doing everything I can to fix this?"

Ritika crossed her arms, tears stinging her eyes. "It's not enough. We need to do more. We need to—"

A loud knock on the door interrupted her. They both froze, their eyes locking.

"Who could that be?" Ritika whispered, dread pooling in her stomach.

Rohit gestured for her to stay back as he approached the door. Through the peephole, he saw two uniformed police officers standing on the porch. His heart sank.

"It's the police," he said, his voice grim.

Ritika's hand flew to her mouth. "Why are they here? What now?"

Rohit opened the door cautiously. "Officers," he greeted them.

"Mr. Sharma, Mrs. Sharma," one of the officers said, his tone polite but firm. "We're here regarding the ongoing investigation into the medical incident involving Vamika Kohli. We have some questions."

Ritika stepped forward, her voice trembling. "Our lawyer said we don't have to answer anything without legal representation."

"That's your right," the officer acknowledged. "But we'd appreciate your cooperation. The Kholis have provided their side, and we're looking to get a complete picture."