Cid Vs The Eye

Chapter 5: Shattered Trust

The Hospital - Dawn's Unforgiving Light

The corridors of Mumbai General Hospital stretched endlessly under the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting, each tube humming with electrical persistence that seemed to echo the tension crackling through the air. The antiseptic smell of industrial-grade disinfectant mixed with the underlying odours of human suffering—fear, sweat, and the metallic tang of blood that seemed to permeate every surface despite the cleaning staff's tireless efforts.

Outside the Intensive Care Unit, the CID team had arranged themselves in a loose semicircle of plastic chairs, each member isolated within their own sphere of shock and self-recrimination. The waiting area, designed for brief visits and hopeful vigils, had become their temporary command center in a crisis that threatened to destroy everything they had built together.

ACP Pradyuman moved through the space like a caged predator, his usually immaculate uniform wrinkled from the sleepless night, his silver hair disheveled in a way that would have been unthinkable under normal circumstances. Each step echoed off the polished floor tiles with mechanical precision, but his usual commanding presence seemed diminished—not by weakness, but by the crushing weight of failed protection. The man who had built his career on safeguarding others had been unable to protect someone he considered his own daughter.

Through the reinforced glass partition, Shreya lay unconscious on a hospital bed that seemed to dwarf her small frame. Monitors surrounded her like electronic sentinels, their screens painting her pale face in shifting hues of green and blue. Her condition had been listed as critical—not from physical injuries, but from the immense psychological trauma that had driven her mind into protective shutdown.

The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the faces of the waiting team members, revealing the toll of sleepless hours spent wrestling with questions that seemed to have no acceptable answers. How had they failed so completely? How had evil taken root in their own sanctuary?

When ACP Pradyuman finally spoke, his voice carried the burden of command mixed with the bitter taste of personal failure that sat heavy on his tongue.

ACP Pradyuman: "Mayank ko forensic pahucha diya? Or sabko inform kiya hai properly? DCP ko, headquarters ko, media management team ko?"

Abhijeet looked up from where his hands lay clasped before him, knuckles white with tension. His usually sharp eyes—eyes that could spot lies from across a room and piece together complex criminal patterns—now appeared dulled by exhaustion and a fury so deep it seemed to have burned through anger into something colder and more dangerous.

Abhijeet: "Ha sir. Salunkhe sahab personally receive kar rahe hain body ko. Media briefing ke liye PR team ready hai, lekin abhi tak kuch officially announce nahi kiya hai. Or headquarters me situation report file kar di hai."

The silence that followed seemed to stretch across hours rather than seconds. ACP Pradyuman stopped his mechanical pacing abruptly, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he were physically trying to grasp something that remained forever out of reach. The full weight of the situation crashed over him like a tsunami of realization—not just that violence had occurred, but that it had happened to someone under his protection, in his domain, while he slept peacefully at home.

ACP Pradyuman: "Ye hua kya hai raat ko bureau me... Shreya ne Mayank ko mar diya hai! Or usne aisa kyu kiya hai... Main use kabhi maaf nahi karunga! Kitni baar kaha hai maine ki koi bhi personal matter office me leke nahi aana chahiye!"

His voice cracked on the last words—not with weakness or uncertainty, but with the raw fury of a father whose daughter had been violated under his own roof. The crack revealed something deeper than professional disappointment; it showed the personal devastation of a man who had promised protection and delivered betrayal.