Memories

24

Karthik

I could tell something was wrong the second Bharat walked into the café where we agreed to meet. He was usually composed, shoulders squared, eyes sharp — but today his face was pale, jaw tight, eyes darting around like he was carrying the weight of a hundred unsaid words.

"Bharat?" I asked, rising to meet him. Rahul and Shivani sat across from me, Anjali beside Shivani. The moment Bharat slumped into the chair, I knew this wasn't going to be good.

He didn't waste time. "I got a call."

That sentence alone sent a chill down my spine.

Rahul leaned forward. "From who?"

Bharat's hands rubbed together nervously, a rare crack in his usual confidence. "No caller ID. A broken voice. Someone terrified. But they said enough."

Shivani 's eyes widened. "What did they say?"

Bharat looked directly at me, as if the words were meant for me alone. "The accident wasn't random. It wasn't just a job-for-hire. It was orchestrated. By family."

The silence that fell over us was suffocating.

I felt the blood drain from my face. My throat tightened, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. Family.

The word echoed in my head like a curse.

It wasn't a stranger. Not an enemy lurking in the shadows. It was someone close. Someone who broke bread with us, who smiled in front of Granny, who spoke of loyalty and tradition — while planning my death.

Shivani reached across the table and slipped her hand into mine under the table. A small gesture, but grounding. I closed my eyes for a second, holding on to that warmth before forcing myself to look at Bharat.

"Do you know who?" My voice came out hoarse.

Bharat shook his head. "No names. No details. Just... family. But that was enough, Karthik. It means what we feared is true. Someone inside wants you gone. And they won't stop."

Rahul cursed under his breath. Anjali clutched his arm, her face pale. Shivani 's grip on me tightened.

I swallowed hard. Rage boiled in my chest, hot and dangerous. Whoever it was — uncle, cousin, even so-called friends — they had crossed a line. They hadn't just tried to kill me. They had ripped apart the foundation of everything I believed in. Family was supposed to mean protection, loyalty. Instead, it had become betrayal, poison dripping from within.

But I couldn't let that rage show. Not here. Not now.

"Does Granny know?" Anjali asked carefully.

Bharat's eyes flickered with hesitation. "No. And she can't. Not yet. If this person realizes we're onto them, they'll vanish. Or worse, strike again before we're ready."

I nodded slowly. My instincts agreed. The family already lived in enough chaos with wedding preparations, constant bickering, Sonu's interference, Mohan's scheming. Dropping this bomb now would only create panic — and tip off the traitor.

"No one else can know," I said firmly. "Not Granny. Not Manoj uncle. No one."

Rahul frowned. "Kar, if we hide this—"

"We're protecting them," I cut him off, sharper than I meant. "Do you want Granny lying awake every night thinking one of her own blood tried to murder me? Do you want Manoj uncle suspecting every sibling, every cousin, tearing the house apart with accusations? No. We keep this between us."

Shivani squeezed my hand again under the table. "Then we'll fight in silence," she said softly. Her voice carried a strength that steadied me.

I turned to her, and for a brief second, it was just us in the room. Her eyes were unwavering, full of determination. In that moment, I realized she wasn't just helping me survive — she was becoming the only anchor I had in this storm.

"Bharat," I asked, pulling myself back to focus, "did the caller say anything else?"

"Only that the drivers were paid off. And that the man who delivered the money was young, early twenties, scar on his jaw. That matches the sketch. They're close. They're hiding in plain sight."

Plain sight. The words sat heavy in my chest.

I pictured the wedding just days ago. Laughter, flowers, clinking glasses. Relatives smiling, congratulating, hugging me as if they loved me. One of them was pretending. One of them was waiting for me to drop my guard.

I forced myself to keep breathing.

"Alright," I said finally, my tone steady despite the storm inside me. "We stay quiet. Bharat, keep digging. Rahul, you and Anjali stay alert in the house — watch everyone, not every inconsistency. Shivani and I will continue digging through financials. If money moved, it'll leave a trail. Somewhere."

Rahul nodded. "And what about Sonu and Mohan? They've been pushing you hard about marriage. Too hard. Suspiciously hard."

I clenched my jaw. The thought of Sonu hovering around me, claiming rights she never had, made my blood boil. "They're on the list. Don't worry."

Shivani 's lips tightened, and I saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes. She had endured Sonu's cruel taunts, the constant belittling, the threats. And all this while, she had stayed. For me.

I wanted to pull her into my arms right there and promise her that Sonu meant nothing — but I couldn't. Not yet. Not when every move was being watched.

So instead, I just pressed my knee gently against hers under the table. A silent reassurance. She looked at me, and her expression softened just enough to let me know she understood.

That night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet; shadows stretched long across the room. Rahul's words echoed in my mind. Bharat's warning gnawed at me. Family.

I turned to the window, and there she was — Shivani, sitting quietly in the garden, her silhouette framed by moonlight.

Before I could stop myself, I went down to her.

She looked up as I approached, and for once, there were no questions, no investigations, no burdens. Just her.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked softly.

I shook my head. "You?"

She smiled faintly. "Too many thoughts. About everything. About us."

My chest tightened. Without thinking, I reached out and cupped her face in my hand. "Shivani... if anything happens to me—"

"Don't." She pressed her fingers to my lips, silencing me. "Don't say that. Nothing will happen to you. Not while I'm here."

Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and in that moment, the wall I had built around my emotions cracked.

I leaned down and pressed my forehead against hers. "You're the only reason I'm still standing. You know that, right?"

She closed her eyes, leaning into me. "Then don't you dare fall. Because if you do... I'll fall too."

I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly, as if I could shield her from the poison creeping through my family. And for the first time in weeks, I let myself feel. Not just fear or anger, but the fragile, dangerous hope of love.

We stayed like that until the first light of dawn crept into the garden. Neither of us spoke of the call, or the traitor, or the storm ahead. For those few stolen hours, there was just us.

But deep down, I knew the silence couldn't last.

Because somewhere in this very house, the enemy was waiting. Watching.

And the next move would decide everything.