As soon as Anay reached the Tiwari residence, he saw Shrey standing at the door with a bag in hand. Mr. Tiwari was trying to talk him out of something. Beside him stood two women—one draped in a sari with a veil, the other in a salwar-suit.
"Let's go," Shrey said the moment Anay arrived.
"Oh Assistant Sir, what's the rush?" Mr. Tiwari smiled.
"Yes, we were supposed to leave tomorrow morning anyway..." Anay replied casually.
"Now you'll contradict me?" Shrey snapped.
Anay looked at him—his eyes clearly showed he was hiding something.
"Let's go, Mr. Tiwari..." Anay said and started to walk away.
Mr. Tiwari stopped them and said,
"Wait, MLA Sir… just a moment…"
"I wanted to introduce you to my family…"
Anay turned his gaze to the two women.
"This is my wife, Smriti ji," he said, pointing to the veiled woman—she joined her hands in greeting.
"…And this is my sister, Amrita," he said, gesturing toward the girl in the salwar-suit.
She smiled and greeted them softly with folded hands.
Anay bowed slightly and replied politely,
"Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Tiwari."
"MLA Sir…" Mr. Tiwari seemed to want to say more, but—
"Forgive me, Mr. Tiwari, but we're in a bit of a hurry…"
Anay cut him off and tugged Shrey toward the car.
Shrey flung the bags in with irritation, "Start the damn car."
Anay took the driver's seat, glanced once more at Mr. Tiwari, then at Shrey—who was muttering to himself.
As soon as Shrey got in, the vehicle moved forward.
They took a turn, and the walls of the Tiwari residence faded into the background.
After covering a short distance, Anay suddenly hit the brakes—
"Now will you tell me?"
"What…" Shrey said, eyes closed.
"Shrey…"
"I'm just… scared. If I stay here any longer, I might lose what little I have left…"
His voice was soaked in vulnerability.
Anay looked at him for a long moment… then turned his eyes back to the road.
Slowly, they began to exit Banaras.
Everything was left behind—Banaras, its narrow alleys, the ghats, all of it…
Everything except the storm inside Shrey.
The rest of the journey passed mostly in silence—
just the occasional hum of Anay's car slicing through the stillness.
Late that night, they finally arrived at the haveli.
There was a festive atmosphere in the mansion—
lights, noise, laughter, and faces full of questions.
Shrey's eyes began to narrow—
even happiness was beginning to scare him now.
As soon as Mauli saw them, she ran to call Thakurain.
"Malkin! Chhote Thakur has returned!"
"So soon?"
*Thakurain*, who had been instructing the maids, turned in surprise and rushed to the door.
"Lalla!"
She wrapped Anay in her arms as though quenching a thirst that had lasted for years.
Anay smiled and said,
"What's the matter, Amma? You seem very happy today."
*Thakurain's* eyes gleamed—
"Your father is recovering, son… the doctor says he's out of danger now."
Anay's smile deepened, while Shrey momentarily froze.
"What… seriously? Sarpanch ji is okay?"
Anay asked again, as if he couldn't believe it.
"Yes, son. Come inside… he was just asking for you."
*Thakurain* took his hand and started leading him in.
—
As soon as Shrey entered his room, he locked the door and frantically dialed the doctor's number.
The moment the call connected, he nearly screamed—
"How did the Sarpanch recover!? I told you to only give enough medicine to keep him alive… did you—"
"No, sir!"
The doctor was visibly shaken.
"We gave only the doses you prescribed… but two days ago, he fell from his bed and was taken to the hospital. Our senior doctors treated him… and somehow, within two days, he started recovering…"
"Shut up, you idiot!"
Shrey roared and flung the phone against the wall in rage.
His chest began to swell again with that same fear, that same unease.
Something ominous was standing in front of him again.
"Two coincidences… at the same time… no."
He whispered to himself,
"This time, Anay won't be the one to suffer… no matter what… I won't let anything happen to him."
He remained in deep thought for a while, then seemed to reach a conclusion.
"London…"
The word escaped his lips in a whisper.
"I have to send Anay to London as soon as possible… only there can things be made right."
—
Anay had already visited the Sarpanc.
Not that they spoke much anyway, so after the formalities, he quietly made his way to his room.
As soon as he stepped inside, his expression changed.
He closed the door, took a deep breath, and instinctively placed his hand on his chest—right where the pain was radiating from.
Ever since the day he jumped from that balcony, the pain had only grown worse.
He slowly walked to the wardrobe, opened a drawer, and took out a bottle of pills.
He popped one into his mouth, drank some water, and stood there silently for a few moments.
Then, without a word, he stepped onto the balcony.
The silence of the night, the cool breeze, and that half-moon hanging in the sky—it was all so calm.
He slumped into the couch, leaned back, and gazed at the moon with tired eyes.
Too be Continued...