Later That Night:
Aryan sat by Advika's crib, watching her sleep peacefully. His fingers gently stroked her tiny hand as he whispered,
"Meri jaan, tumhari mumma wapas aayegi. Woh mujhe kabhi aise nahi chhod sakti. Main use le aunga... tumhare liye, mere liye... humare liye."
His voice cracked as fresh tears spilled from his eyes. The room was silent except for the faint sound of Advika's breathing.
Author POV:
A couple stood by the river, gazing at the calm water when something caught their eye—a piece of white cloth, stained with blood, floating near the shore. Alarmed, they exchanged glances.
"What is that?" the woman whispered, her voice trembling.
"Let's go check," the man said cautiously.
As they moved closer, dread settled in their hearts. It wasn't just a piece of cloth—it was a body. A woman's body, brutally injured, lying motionless.
Shocked, they immediately called for help and rushed her to the nearest hospital.
In the hospital waiting area, the woman sat clutching her husband's hand tightly. Her voice quivered as she spoke.
"Kahi is bachi ke saath kuch galat toh nahi hua? Meri Janvi ki tarah kahi..." Her breath hitched, her eyes filling with unshed tears.
The man placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Doctor ko aane do bahar... tab hum police ko inform kar denge," he said softly, though his own heart was heavy.
After some time, the doctor emerged from the operation theatre. The elderly man rushed to him, his eyes pleading for answers.
"It appears to have been an accident," the doctor began. "Her head is severely injured, and her lower body has sustained multiple fractures. To be honest, it's a miracle she's alive. She should not have survived these injuries, but it seems it wasn't her time yet. However, she's in a coma."
After Two Days
At the Taneja House:
Two days had passed since Anjali went missing. Despite the police's relentless search, her body was still nowhere to be found. The family clung to a fragile hope, but with every passing moment, the weight of despair grew heavier.
The Tanejas had finally decided to perform Anjali's antim sanskar (last rites). Her belongings—her favorite books, a dupatta she loved, and a few personal keepsakes—were arranged near the fire. The air was thick with grief, and the silence in the room was only broken by the sound of muffled sobs.
Mrs. Taneja wiped her tears and turned to the family. "Humein antim sanskar karna hoga," she said, her voice trembling. "Anjali ki body nahi mili, par yeh uska saaman hai. Yeh rasam zaruri hai."
YOU ARE READING
Drenched Heart's || COMPLETED✔️||
Romance"Drenched Hearts" Anjali, a passionate poetess, and Aryan, the son of a renowned businessman, crossed paths at an art exhibition. Their first encounter was accidental-a splash of ink from Anjali's hand stained Aryan's shirt. But fate had other plans...
