Forbidden Mania | 18+

27.

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𝑀𝒾𝓈𝒽𝓀𝒶'𝓈 𝒫𝑜𝓋~

The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the cutting board filled the kitchen, blending with the faint hum of the ceiling fan above. The soft glow of the evening light streamed through the window, casting elongated shadows across the countertops. I stood at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables, waiting for Baba to come home. But my mind wasn't in the kitchen. It was scattered, lost in the maze of everything that had happened to me lately.

The truck accident.

My hands stilled for a moment as I recalled the metallic scent of blood, the piercing pain, and the chaos. But more than that, I remembered him, the man who had saved me. The stranger who wrapped his arms around body like I was something fragile, something precious.

His face was still a blur in my mind, but his gaze… that gaze was burned into my soul. He had looked at me as if he had found something he had been searching for his entire life.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

The bloody clothes.

A shiver ran down my spine. I had buried them, hiding them from everyone—including myself. Why? Why hadn't I just thrown them away or burned them? Why did I feel the need to hide them, as if I was protecting something… or someone?

The owl.

A sharp breath left my lips. That owl, the one that had collided with my window that night. I had been desperate, asking Ma for a sign, any sign, and the very next moment, there it was, lifeless, cold, its eyes staring into nothingness. I had tried to shake it off as a coincidence, but deep down, I knew better. It was a message. From whom? I didn't know. But the air around me had never felt the same since.

Then there was the call.

My hands trembled slightly as I resumed chopping. The unknown man who had called me, the way he had spoken about my mother, Kaya Basu, as if he had known her personally… as if he knew secrets I had never been told. The mere thought of it sent a prickle of unease down my arms. Who was he? And why now?

And now… Arsh's mother.

I let out a bitter chuckle. Of all things, this was the most bizarre. After months of hating me, demeaning me, calling me motherless, suddenly she wanted this wedding to happen? But only if Raghav wasn't invited. Why? What did she have against her own son?

My fingers clenched around the knife, and before I could react-

Slice.

A sharp, searing pain shot through my finger. I gasped, my vision blurring as bright red pooled from the fresh cut. The knife clattered onto the counter as I stumbled back, clutching my finger tightly. My breath hitched as I watched the blood trickle down my palm, staining my wrist like a blooming rose.

I stood frozen, staring at the crimson flow.

So much blood…

Blood on the road.
Blood on my hands.
Blood on my clothes.
Blood everywhere.

A sudden wave of nausea hit me, my body swaying. The air in the kitchen felt suffocating, pressing against my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to take deep breaths.

It’s just a small cut. Just a cut.

But as I opened my eyes, the blood still dripped steadily, as if mocking me, as if reminding me that there was something much bigger lurking beneath all of this. Something I wasn't seeing yet.