bhula dena mujhe (Make Me Forget)

accident

While Siddharth was driving, Aanchal sat in the passenger seat, her mind heavy with thoughts of the recent events. The memory lingered in her mind, twisting and turning like a haunting whisper she couldn’t escape. She didn’t want to talk about it with anyone—especially not with Siddharth or anyone else who wouldn’t understand. Her hands gripped the edge of her seat as she tried to push the thoughts away.

Siddharth, noticing her distraction, glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"Aanchal," he said gently, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

She blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and looked at him. "Yes, sir?"

"What’s on your mind?" he asked, his tone casual but concerned.

"Nothing, sir," she replied quickly, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Siddharth raised an eyebrow, his gaze briefly flickering to her. "I think I’ve figured it out."

Aanchal turned her head toward him, confusion written on her face. "What do you mean?"

"Now I understand why you're so brilliant." Siddharth's words were light, teasing. "Your mind is always racing with thoughts, isn't it?"

Aanchal couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his teasing. "Don't tease me, sir," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

Siddharth’s expression shifted, becoming more serious. "Aanchal, can I ask you something?" His tone changed, curiosity now evident.

Aanchal hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, sir."

"Why didn’t you take the case?" he asked, his voice soft, but there was an edge of concern.

Aanchal's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the case. Mr. Shravan Malhotra’s death. The words echoed in her mind, and a sudden rush of panic flooded her senses. The memory of a man's voice haunted her thoughts, repeating in a maddening loop. "Are you Suman Tiwari?" it asked. "Sumo..."

She pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block out the sound, but it wouldn’t stop. Siddharth noticed her distress, his concern deepening.

"Aanchal?" he called her name again, his voice sharp now. "Aanchal, what’s wrong?"

She blinked rapidly, trying to force the voices from her mind. Slowly, the sound faded. Aanchal took a deep breath, lowering her hands from her ears. Her eyes focused back on Siddharth, who was looking at her with confusion and worry.

"Aanchal, are you alright?" he asked, his voice thick with concern. He reached out and gently shook her shoulder.

Before she could respond, Aanchal’s attention was drawn to something in front of them. A figure—a man—was standing directly in the path of the car.

"Sir!" she cried out, panic seizing her voice.

Siddharth, momentarily unaware of the man ahead, continued speaking to Aanchal. But when she pointed, he finally noticed the figure. His eyes widened in alarm as the man didn’t move. Without thinking, he swerved the car sharply to avoid hitting him. The vehicle veered off course, crashing into a tree with a loud, jarring thud.