𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆

PART-52

"Sir, where is Rudraksh?" Siddharth asked, swinging his legs carefully over the edge of the hospital bed. The sterile sheet crumpled beneath his weight, and his bare feet touched the cool tile floor.

"Beta, you need rest," Aanand stepped forward. His hands instinctively hovered near Siddharth's elbows, as if afraid he might stumble.

With a slow push, Siddharth stood upright. His good hand grazed the fabric of the sling on his injured arm, adjusting it absently. "I'm all good, sir. It's just a minor injury." A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it barely softened the fatigue shadowing his eyes. "Where is he?"

Aanand drew in a steady breath, his chest rising and falling as if weighing the words. "Your little brother is in his psychiatrist's cabin... crying, probably."

A soundless chuckle escaped Siddharth as he reached toward the chair, tugging the white shawl that was draped carelessly over its armrest. He fumbled, trying to spread it across his bare shoulders with his free hand.

Aanand stepped closer. "Here," he murmured, taking the cloth from Siddharth's fingers. With deliberate care, he wrapped the shawl around him, smoothing the edges across his back like one would with a convalescent child. "You still need rest, beta. Rudraksh... leave him to himself. He has developed this habit of learning everything the hard way. And if you keep catching him each time he falls, he will never learn to be responsible."

Siddharth's eyes dropped to the older man's hands, noticing the firmness with which they tucked the shawl into place. His voice softened. "Sir... I know. But we shouldn't forget why Rudraksh is here, in this wellness centre. If we're always too hard on him, he'll only drift further away from us."

He looked up, his gaze steady now. "And, above everything, none of this was Rudraksh's fault. It was Rafiq and his dirty tricks. Whatever Rudraksh did, it was just self-defense. After all, Rafiq wanted to hurt me, directly or indirectly. And he did."

Aanand exhaled, the air escaping his lips with the weight of unspoken worry. He stepped back, clasping his hands behind him, and looked at the young man.

"Siddharth, Rafiq and his whole family have criminal blood in their veins. On top of that, his father is a politician, member of UP's upper house. More than seventy cases are pending on him. Do you really think he'll stay quiet after his son has been beaten up this badly?"

A crooked smile curved Siddharth's mouth, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sir, Rafiq is a runaway criminal. Even if his politician father manages to prove Rudraksh laid a hand on him, the only one who'll end up caged... is Rafiq."

Aanand's jaw tensed. "Siddharth, they are criminals."

Siddharth tilted his chin, his voice calm but edged with quiet steel. "And you, sir, are a High Court judge. And I..." his lips curved into the faintest smirk, "am a barrister."

Aanand's lips pressed into a tight line as he gave a measured nod. "Okay," he murmured. "You go... talk to him. Then we'll move on to work."

Siddharth's chest lifted slightly, and a triumphant smile tugged at his lips as he moved aside, walking out of the room.

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"Rudraksh..." Dr. Tanvi's voice faltered, weary from repeating his name. The fluorescent light above hummed faintly, washing the room in a sterile glow. "Beta, stop crying. Siddharth is fine."

His quiet sniffling broke through again, filling the silence.

Tanvi exhaled slowly, a sigh heavy with both patience and fatigue. She reached out, her fingers brushing the crown of his head with motherly affection. Her chest tightened at the way his body continued to quake beneath her hand.