Book 1 of the Love and Duty Series
Anirudh Roy, the steadfast and disciplined army officer, had always lived by a set of principles, none of which involved love. His life revolved around duty, honor, and the pursuit of his ambitions. Marriage, child...
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Anirudh
Every step towards the hospital feels heavier than the last. My mind is a storm of emotions, a chaos I can't sort through. My brother—Devasya—is inside this building, fighting for his life, and all I can think about is the endless tension that's defined our relationship.
Devasya was my first teacher and my first rival. He taught me how to ride a bike but laughed when I fell. He pushed me to work harder but never let me forget how far ahead he always was. I hated him for it. And yet, as I near the ICU waiting room, that hate feels so trivial. So hollow.
I see them first—Ma and Baba. My mother sits on the edge of her chair, her hands wringing the end of her saree. My father is next to her, stoic as always, though the slump in his shoulders betrays his fear. They don't notice me until I'm almost there.
"Anirudh," Ma says, her voice breaking the moment she sees me. She stands and rushes toward me, wrapping her arms around me tightly. "Anirudh, he's in there. My Devasya... they won't tell us anything yet. What's taking so long?"
Her words tumble out between sobs, and her body trembles as she holds on to me. I've never seen her like this, so broken, so fragile. My arms come around her instinctively, though my own strength feels like it's slipping away.
"Ma, he's strong," I whisper, my voice cracking. "You know him. He'll fight through this." She pulls back slightly, her tear-streaked face searching mine. "Five bullets, Anirudh. That's what they said. Five bullets..." Her voice falters, and she collapses into my arms again.
I freeze. "Five Bullets?" I manage, the word barely escaping my lips.
Baba speaks up for the first time, his voice low and raw. "They said none of them hit his vital organs," he says, as if trying to convince himself. "But he's lost so much blood... He's still in surgery."
The room tilts, and I feel like the air has been knocked out of me. Five bullets. The words echo in my mind, louder and louder until it's all I can hear. I knew Devasya was a soldier. I knew his job was dangerous. But this... this feels unreal.
"He didn't deserve this," Ma sobs, clutching at my shirt. "He's already given so much. Why does God have to punish him like this?"
Before I can respond, the door to the ICU swings open, and a doctor steps out. His scrubs are stained with blood—Devasya's blood. My knees nearly buckle at the sight.
"Doctor," Baba says, his voice trembling as he stands. "How is he?"
The doctor looks at us, his face grim but not hopeless. "Major Devasya is stable for now," he says. "The bullets missed his vital organs, but the damage was still severe. We've controlled the bleeding, but he's not out of danger yet. The next 24 hours are critical."
My mother lets out a cry and sinks into a chair, her hands covering her face. Baba grips the edge of the nearest table, his knuckles turning white. I stand frozen, staring at the doctor, unable to process the words.
