Prologue
AYUSHI
The digital clock in my phone glowed 8:54 PM. I was allowed this one night out, a final goodbye to my friend Maya whose family was relocating. Her house, just down the street, felt empty already. The night was quiet, punctuated only by the chirping of crickets and the distant bark of a dog. The lone streetlight, a feeble beacon in the inky darkness, guided my way.
From a distance, I saw a cluster of people near my house. As I drew closer, the cluster resolved into a crowd, their faces indistinct in the shadows. A wave of unease washed over me. Why are they here? One face turned towards me, etched with a look of profound concern. Others followed, their gazes heavy with a sorrow I couldn't comprehend. What's happening?
I pushed through the throng, calling out for my mother and father. The front door stood open, a gaping wound in the familiar façade of our home. My mother's cries cut through the night, raw and anguished. Grandmother knelt beside her, offering comfort, but her own face was pale and drawn. My father was nowhere in sight.
"Maa, what's wrong? Why is everyone crying? Where's Dad?" My voice cracked. My mother looked up, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed, but she couldn't answer.
"Go to your room," Grandmother commanded, her voice sharp with a grief that mirrored my own. But I couldn't obey. I'd never seen my mother like this.
"I'm not going anywhere!" I insisted.
"Lock the door and go to your room! Now!" she snapped, her voice laced with desperation.
Defeated, I retreated. The crowd had thinned, but a few remained. Mrs. Sharma, our neighbor, approached me, her eyes filled with compassion.
"Beta," she said, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, "Is your mother alright? This shouldn't happen to anyone. May your father be okay soon. I'm here if you need anything."
Her words, meant to comfort, only amplified my fear. Where is Dad? I closed the door behind me, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavy in the air.
The time: 9:12 PM. I dialed my father's number. Unreachable. Panic seized me. What happened? What if something terrible has happened? Mrs. Sharma's words echoed in my mind: May your father be okay soon. But what did that mean?
A knock at my door interrupted my spiraling thoughts.
"The door's open," I mumbled.
My Grandmother entered, her face etched with sorrow, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Nani, what happened? Where is Dad? Why is everyone crying? Why wasn't I told anything?" She embraced me, her arms a fragile shield against the storm raging inside me.
"Your...your father was stabbed," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "He's in the hospital."
"Then why are we here? Why aren't we with him? What's his condition?" Panic clawed at my throat.
"The doctors...they say he's lost a lot of blood. His chances...they're slim," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "The police and forensics are working on finding the killer, but so far there's no trace. Your mother will be going to the hospital soon. Papa will be alright, I'm sure." She kissed my forehead, brushing the hair from my face.
"You came home late. Did you eat anything at Maya's? Are you hungry?" she asked. But the enormity of what she'd told me was too much to process. I shook my head.
"This must be too much for you," she said softly. "Come, lay your head on my lap." I obeyed, the weight of my grief settling on me like a shroud. I didn't want to know anything else. I just wanted to believe everything was normal, that nothing had happened to my father. I just wanted to see my father.
~gulkiish
