To Where It All Began ✔

6. I HAVE NO OPTION BUT TO TRUST YOU

Amna stood frozen as Shreekant's words echoed in her mind. His tone, sharp and biting, seemed to pierce through her carefully constructed defences. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, the weight of his accusations bearing down on her like a storm gathering on the horizon.

"Guess who just called me?" he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm, leaning in closer as if daring her to break under the pressure. "Constable from the local police station. They have a fax—a complaint about a missing person from Savitri Hospital in Bangalore. Dr. Amna Biswas—missing since March 7th."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment, his dark eyes scanning her face, waiting for her reaction. His sarcastic smile felt like a slap, making her stomach churn.

So it's over, she thought. No more hiding. The weight of her lie threatened to crush her at this moment, but something deep inside fought back. Shreekant wasn't just angry, he was wounded, and for some reason, he wanted to direct all that hurt at her.

"And because of this," he continued, his voice now laced with disdain, "I found out what a brilliant liar you are. Lying to the woman who's taken care of you, lying to everyone... Is this your upbringing? Is this how you were taught?"

Amna's mouth went dry. She could hear the sirens of the approaching ambulance in the distance, but all she could focus on was the word "upbringing." It hit her like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs. Upbringing? How dare he! As if he knew anything about her life, her struggles, and the choices she had to make.

She took a sharp breath, eyes narrowing. "Upbringing?" she retorted, her voice shaking but rising in defiance. "You dare question my upbringing? Who gave you the right to insult my moral education? You have no idea what I've been through, what forced me to lie. And why should you care? Why would anyone?"

Shreekant's face hardened as her words stung. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, but he remained composed—too composed, as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike back.

"Fine," he said coldly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I shouldn't have questioned your upbringing. But explain this to me—why did you lie? To all of us? To the doctors, to the police? What are you hiding?"

The accusation burned, and Amna's chest tightened. His words pushed her to the edge. But despite the rising tide of emotions inside her, she couldn't afford to break down. Not now. She bit back her anger, her mind racing for a way out.

"I lied because I had to," she fired back, her voice stronger than she felt inside. "But I don't owe you an explanation. You're a stranger to me—why should I tell you anything?"

Shreekant's face darkened with a mixture of frustration and fury, his patience thinning. "A stranger, huh?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping dangerously low. "If I'm just a stranger, then why did you lie to me? If you have nothing to hide, then why all these games? Do you think you're the only one with problems? Face them instead of running away and lying."

Amna could feel the tension between them reaching its breaking point. His anger was palpable, but underneath it, she sensed something more—a deep well of pain and confusion that mirrored her own.

"And you!" she shot back, unable to hold her tongue any longer. "You're one to talk about running away. What are you doing here, Mr Shreekant Mhatre? Hiding out in this old age home, pretending like you're not running from your own life? You can question me all you want, but you're no better."

Her words hit their mark. For a fleeting moment, Shreekant's eyes widened in surprise. But just as quickly, his expression turned to stone.

"You don't know a damn thing about me," he growled, the controlled facade cracking.