Chapter 1
Start writing here…Deceit is the game of petty spirits, and that is by default a woman’s quality. - Pierre Corneille.
The Fortis Hospital, Delhi
12th of March, 1.15 AM.
Dev Rathore checked his watch again and tallied it against the hospital clock. It matched perfectly. It was five hours since they had taken Vicky into the operation theatre. Five hours, fourteen minutes, twenty seconds to be precise, since when the red light of the OT went on. He rubbed his weary face and prayed for the thousandth time for his brother to be okay, but his hopes were sinking with each passing minute.
He had never thought he would see this day. Hospitals were for old people, pregnant women, and children. Young men of Vicky’s age didn’t ever need them. Vicky wouldn’t have needed it either, if not for that bitch.
The OT door opened, and a doctor walked out carrying a paper. Dev shot to his feet.
“We are still trying, Mr. Rathore. But it may be too late. He’s lost too much blood and the head injury doesn’t look good either.”
“Please doctor, you have to save Vicky. Do whatever you want, call the best neurosurgeons in the country. But make sure he gets through.” Dev pleaded desperately. Yes, they were late. It had taken Ajay nearly six hours to reach Delhi from that dastardly village of Palampur, that had a fancy racecourse to boast off but not a decent hospital in the vicinity. The only miserly excuse of a clinic was run by a homeopathic doctor who had flatly refused to treat Vicki. For the hundredth time that day, Dev cursed himself. It was all his mistake. He should have never let Vicky go.
The woman sighed sympathetically and handed him a form. “We’ll try our best, Mr. Rathore. We are going to perform neurosurgery. If successful, he’ll live through this, but failure might cause a coma, or worse. I need your consent.”
Coma...or worse? Dev felt his brain going numb. He wanted Vicky back to normal. He had so much to see, so much to live for. Whoever had done this was going to pay for this. They had no idea what was coming for them.
Lips pressed in a thin line, he put his signatures down. The doctor gave him a sympathetic look and disappeared behind the OT doors again.
*****
“He loved her from the moment he saw her,” Ajay Parmar whispered from his side, pressing a hand on his bandaged forehead. Patches of dirt and blood adorned his torn shirt. His other hand was in a plaster cast. “All the time we were there, he was with her. He looked so happy, he even wanted to propose. We thought...we thought she loved him, too.”
Dev listened with a stony expression, his dark eyes giving nothing away. Ajay was Vicky’s best friend since childhood. The duo had planned this excursion together to celebrate their graduation. Palampur, the little countryside town at the peak of its famous racing season, afforded enough of the wild excitement the city boys craved for. But the trip hadn’t ended well. The girl was a vixen. She had played with Vicky and then discarded him when a new, more exciting toy came into sight. What’s more, she’d gone the extra mile and gotten them set upon by goons when Vicky dared to confront her.
His fingers curled into fists. Avni Sharma. How he craved to wring her neck! How he would enjoy seeing her vile face strangled to death!
“There were six of them,” Ajay continued heedlessly. “They chased us in their jeep. We somehow reached our car and escaped, but Vicky lost control in the dark and we crashed into the gorge.”
Dev ran an uneasy hand through his hair. He had listened to this story for the umpteenth time today but still couldn’t believe it.
Girls. They were never Vicky’s weakness. He was a shy boy, too shy even to talk to girls when he was in school. Even when in college, he’d kept to his studies and his sports. He had a few friends like Ajay, but the young men were mostly well behaved and hardly got into trouble. This was so much in contrast to Dev’s own past. He had seen and done it all, right from the ripe old age of fifteen.
He patted Ajay on the shoulder and asked him to rest. All four boys were badly injured, with Vicky being the worst hit. Sam was in the recovery room having just come out after his knee surgery. Paddy was covered in bruises and was stitched up by the doctors an hour ago.
Ajay left, walking gingerly on his feet, and Dev resumed his restless pacing.
The clock ticked on. It was nearly morning when the red light finally turned off.
“The operation is successful.” The doctor’s expression was relieved yet Dev noted his wary eyes. “He is alive. But I’m afraid he’s lost the function of his body. The brain injury is too deep, it’ll take time to heal. Meanwhile, we can only wait and hope for the best.”
In other words, Vicky was in a vegetative state. His beloved brother was in a coma, and there was nothing he could do about it.
With his face hardening with insane rage, Dev whipped out his mobile and speed-dialed a number. He needed information and resources. And more than ever, he needed to prepare.
***** *****
