Chapter 58: Chapter 55

And the day when everything in Desai mansion could come down crumbling. She had waited enough. And now, it's the time. This night, the dinner was about to get cold.

Siya

“Dad, I want to ask you something.”

Mr. Desai, already irritated by Siya’s words, snapped back, “Whatever it is, I don’t have time for your stupid questions.” He turned away as if dismissing her, but Siya wasn’t going to let him walk away this time.

“Kusum Anathalaya(Orphanage),” she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Mr. Desai froze, his entire posture stiffening. His eyes flickered with a mix of fear, anger, and desperation, yet there was something else—an underlying panic that betrayed him.

Siya held his gaze, unyielding, and could see the subtle shift in his demeanor. His unease only confirmed the suspicion she had been nursing for so long. He was hiding something. The truth was just within reach.

"Why are you sweating, Dad? Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice sweet yet laced with an edge.

“What is this orphanage you are talking about, Siya?” Sumitra asked, her voice strained, looking at her husband for answers.

“Dad will tell you. He knows exactly what I’m talking about,” Siya said, her tone unwavering. “Don’t you, Dad?”

Mr. Desai’s eyes darted around, desperately seeking a way out. He wasn’t going to escape this. She could feel it. He knew that she had him cornered.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Sumitra, can’t you handle this brat?” he snapped, his breath shallow and quick, almost as if he were struggling to hold himself together.

Siya wasn’t having any of it. “Cut your crap, you old man,” she said, the words sharp and purposeful.

There was a brief moment of silence. Raghav, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, lightly touched Siya’s elbow, silently signaling her to calm down. But she wasn’t backing down now. Not after everything he’d done. Not after all the lies.

“What did you say?” Mr. Desai growled, his eyes now narrowing in rage, but Siya wasn’t intimidated.

“Look,” she said with a cold, calculated smile, “I know what you’re thinking, but let it be between me and you, Mr. Desai.” Her gaze remained locked on him, unwavering. “I’m asking the questions now.”

“Who do you think you are, huh, you little—”

“Are you going to tell them, or should I do it?” Siya interrupted, her voice as sharp as a whip.

Mr. Desai’s eyes widened in disbelief, but Siya didn’t wait for him to respond. She took a step closer, the tension between them thickening with every word.

“Where is the child you adopted on February 3, 2000?” she demanded, her voice clear and firm.

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog. Mr. Desai’s face was drained of color. He stood there, paralyzed for a moment, as if the ground beneath him had just cracked open. His eyes darted to his wife, but she was too stunned to speak.

The rest of the family looked at each other in confusion, trying to piece together what Siya meant.

“What’s going on, Siya? What are you talking about?” Vasu asked, his voice full of confusion, his brow furrowed.

“Dad will tell you,” Siya said again, her gaze still fixed on Mr. Desai, refusing to break contact. “He knows exactly what I mean.”

“Where is the child, Dad?” Siya pressed, her voice now louder. “Tell me, or I’ll do it.”

Mr. Desai’s face twisted in anger, but then, as if resigning himself to the inevitable, he pointed a trembling finger toward Siya.

“Right there,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Right beside you. The boy you’re looking for. I adopted him.”

The words fell like stones, shattering the fragile silence that had hung between them. The room was still, the shock palpable. The family’s eyes widened, disbelief written on their faces. Even Raghav was left in stunned silence, his mind reeling as he tried to comprehend what Mr. Desai had just said.

Mr. Desai, now looking at Siya with a mixture of contempt and relief, continued.

“Sumitra was 28 weeks pregnant when we found out that our younger son wouldn’t survive due to respiratory issues. We were too late for an abortion. When he was born, we were overjoyed, but the doctors told us he wouldn’t survive beyond a few months. I knew he was going to die, and I knew Sumitra wouldn’t be able to handle that pain, she was in a coma for 3 months” he said, his voice low and bitter.

Looking towards Siya, he added, “That’s why I adopted your worthless husband. To save my wife. But because he isn’t my son, he took his place. I hated him with everything I had.”

Mrs. Desai broke down, her sobs raw and heart-wrenching. She collapsed against her husband, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.

“He did this for me, Siya. For me,” she sobbed. “Don’t you dare disrespect him. Don’t you dare.”

Siya stood frozen, her hand trembling in Raghav’s, as the revelation slammed into her like a freight train. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she turned to Raghav, who stood beside her, his face pale, his eyes distant. He was staring at Mr. Desai with a look of pure confusion.

Siya squeezed his hand, but he didn’t respond. The weight of the truth was too much for him to bear.

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity, before Siya finally spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh wow, Dad. You were such a great husband. No, I mean, absolutely ‘Best Husband in the World,’ right, Mom?” she said with a wicked smile, her voice dripping with irony.

The Desais exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to react. The room was tense, thick with the fallout of the bombshell that had just exploded.

“Isn’t that right, Mom?” Siya continued, her smile widening. “But I have one more question for you, Dad.”

She reached into her bag, pulling out an envelope. Vasu took it from her and opened it, his eyes scanning the contents. The shock on his face was immediate, his hand shaking as he read.

“What’s this, Vasu?” Mr. Desai demanded, his voice full of panic.

Vasu’s voice cracked with disbelief as he shouts, “It’s a DNA test… and it says… that your DNA matches Raghav’s.”

The room went deathly quiet. Mrs. Desai’s hand dropped to her side, the weight of the truth hitting her harder than anything Siya could have imagined. Sumitra looked at her husband in shock, her face pale.

Siya smiled, her lips curling into a cold, victorious grin.

“So, Dad,” she said softly, “care to explain this?”

Raghav, still reeling from the news, stepped forward, his voice trembling with barely contained anger.

“What is this, Dad? What is all this? You… you didn’t adopt me, did you? You lied to me, is my entire life a joke to you?” he shouted, the betrayal clear in his voice. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”

Mr. Desai’s eyes burned with fury, but now there was something else—guilt. His anger was no longer directed at Siya. He looked at his wife, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

Siya stepped forward, her voice calm and cutting, “Now you’re trapped, aren’t you? Everything’s out in the open, and there’s nothing left to hide.”

Raghav’s fists clenched, his heart racing as he struggled to make sense of it all. His whole life had been a lie, and the people who he thought loved him had only used him as a tool to save themselves.

This was the truth. And there was no going back.