79. That Night

Maybe I won't be posting tomorrow, so here is a bonus chapter...

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The rain poured relentlessly that night, drumming against the restaurant’s glass windows.

The sky was dark, the streetlights flickering, and inside, the warm glow of the restaurant created a safe haven for the families sitting together.

At one table, Little Ishika and Little Divya sat on their mothers' laps, being fed lovingly.

Their fathers sat across from them, deep in conversation, voices calm and steady.

Ishika, with bright, curious eyes, wiggled onto her father’s lap and asked in her sweet, innocent voice,

"Papa, when are we going to Ananya and Amrita?"

Her father chuckled, ruffling her soft hair.

"Soon, beta. Very soon."

Divya, sitting across from them, suddenly spotted something that made her eyes light up—a playground inside the restaurant, designed just for kids.

"Ishika, let’s play there!" she exclaimed, tugging on her friend's hand.

Ishika’s face lit up instantly. "Now?"

"Yes, now!"

And just like that, the two little girls giggled, jumping off their seats and running towards the small play area.

"Careful, children!" Divya’s mother called after them, smiling at their excitement.

The parents watched them fondly, their eyes filled with warmth and love as their daughters laughed and played, completely lost in their little world.

And then—

CRASH.

A deafening sound.

A brutal impact.

A monstrous truck came hurtling down the road—straight into the restaurant.

It smashed through the walls—

Right where their parents were sitting.

"Papa!" Divya screamed.

Both girls froze—their tiny bodies trembling—

Their innocent eyes widened in horror as they saw it—

Their parents crushed under the massive truck.

Divya's breath hitched, her tiny hands clenched into fists, and before she knew it, her legs moved on their own—

"Mamma! Papa!" she shrieked, running toward them.

But just as she was about to dash forward, Ishika grabbed her from behind, holding her back with all her little strength.

"Isha, let go! Papa! Mamma!" Divya sobbed, pointing frantically.

Tears welled up in Ishika’s eyes, but she held on tighter.

"Shhh, Divya—look at me! Look at me!" Ishika whispered, her voice shaking.

Divya struggled, tears streaming down her face. "Let me go! I have to go to them!"

Ishika’s lips trembled, her small fingers clutching Divya’s arms desperately.

"D-Divya, d-don’t panic, okay? I-I will go. I will l-look…" her voice cracked as she swallowed back a sob.

"You stay here, okay? Just—just stay here."

And with that, Little Ishika turned—her tiny steps slow, hesitant—

As she walked toward the wreckage.

Ishika’s tiny feet stepped forward, trembling. Every inch of her body was cold, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

And then—she saw it.

Her Papa lay under a huge slab of fallen concrete. Blood. Everywhere. It soaked his clothes, dripped onto the floor. His face—once warm, smiling—was now pale, lifeless.

She turned, eyes darting.

Her Mamma lay a few feet away, sprawled on the floor. Her leg—crushed, twisted unnaturally. Her hands twitched slightly, but she wasn’t moving much.

Ishika clamped her small hands over her mouth, her little shoulders shaking violently.

A sharp cry almost tore from her lips, but she bit it back, as if making a sound would make everything real.

Her tiny feet sped up—but the more she moved, the worse it got.

Because then, her eyes landed on Divya’s parents.

Her Mamma—completely crushed under a table. Blood pooled around her body, her beautiful saree drenched in it.

Her Papa—half of his body sticking out from under the truck. The other half… gone.

Ishika stumbled back. Her breath caught. Her tiny chest heaved. She felt like she was choking.

And then—

A gasp.

Ishika’s head snapped back. Divya.

Standing right behind her.

Her small hands clutched her stuffed toy tightly against her chest. Her wide, innocent eyes filled with unshed tears as she stared at her parents.

Ishika’s heart dropped.

"D-Divya—why did you come here?" she stuttered, panicking. She rushed toward her, trying to block her view.

"Y-you shouldn’t be here! You weren’t supposed to see—"

But Divya wasn’t listening. Her small fingers dug into the soft fabric of her toy, her tiny shoulders trembling.

"P-Papa is… bleeding…" Divya whispered.

Her lips quivered.

And then—she cried and screamed.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… what a horrible scene!"

A deep, mocking voice cut through the silence.

Ishika and Divya’s tiny bodies froze.

Their teary eyes snapped toward the voice—toward the group of men dressed in black, walking toward them. The air around them suddenly felt heavy, suffocating.

Ishika staggered back, gripping Divya’s trembling hand tightly.

"U-Uncle! Please—please help!" Ishika cried, her small hands folding together as she pleaded.

"P-please save our parents!" Divya's voice joined hers, broken and desperate.

The man leading them stopped, staring down at the lifeless bodies around them. His dark, pitiless eyes scanned the scene as if he were admiring his work.

And then—he smirked.

"Help?" he mocked.

Ishika and Divya nodded frantically, hope flickering in their teary eyes.

But his next words made their hearts stop.

"If they hadn’t come in my way… this wouldn’t have happened."

Ishika’s chest tightened.

She didn’t understand. What was he saying?

"P-please! M-mamma is still breathing!" Divya sobbed, pointing toward the weakly moving body of Ishika’s mother.

The man followed her gaze. His lips curled into a slow, amused smile.

"Save?" he whispered, pulling out a gun.

The silver metal glinted under the dim restaurant lights.

And then—BANG!

A loud gunshot echoed through the night.

Ishika’s eyes widened in horror. Divya’s scream tore through the air.

Blood splattered onto the broken floor.

Ishika screamed too, her tiny body shaking violently as she saw her mother’s lifeless body collapse completely.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.

Divya hugged Ishika tightly, their little bodies pressed together, shaking uncontrollably.

"W-who are you?" Ishika stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man tilted his head, smirking.

"Vicky Sethi," he introduced himself smoothly, as if he hadn’t just murdered her mother.

He crouched down to their level, his cold, merciless eyes scanning their tear-streaked faces.

"I could kill you both too."

Ishika’s fingers dug into Divya’s arms, terror paralyzing her.

"But…" Vicky chuckled, twisting the gun in his fingers.

"You’re just kids. And that too, girls. So I’ll let you live. Be thankful."

Divya buried her face into Ishika’s shoulder, her sobs muffled. Ishika couldn’t even cry anymore—her throat was dry, her breath shaky.

"Boss, the police are coming," one of the men whispered.

Vicky smirked. "Time to go."

And just like that, they disappeared into the night.

The sound of police sirens filled the air.

A group of officers rushed inside, but everything was already over.

The lifeless bodies. The blood. The broken pieces of their childhood.

An officer crouched down in front of Ishika and Divya, his voice gentle, but his eyes cold and uninterested.

"Come, children. We’ll take you to safety."

Ishika’s tears finally broke free.

"N-no! Listen to me! That man—Vicky Sethi—he killed them! He k-killed my mamma!"

"He killed my parents too!" Divya sobbed, clutching onto the officer’s uniform.

But the man’s expression didn’t change.

None of the officers reacted. They didn’t even look shocked. Ishika’s stomach twisted. Something was wrong.

"Please…" her voice cracked.

But the officer stood up, ignoring their cries.

Maybe they were bribed. Maybe they were scared.

Either way, they didn’t listen.

As they were being led outside, a sleek black car pulled up.

Ishika’s heart pounded. Her chacha and chachi stepped out.

For a split second, hope flickered in Ishika’s chest.

But then—she saw their faces.

No worry. No pain. No tears. Only boredom.

They listened to the police officer explain everything with uninterested expressions, nodding half-heartedly.

When the officer mentioned taking the bodies for cremation, Ishika’s chacha frowned.

"Do we have to?" he muttered.

Ishika’s tiny hands clenched into fists.

They… didn’t care.

Her body trembled, but she bit her lip, swallowing the sobs that threatened to break free.

Then—another car pulled up.

An old woman stepped out, dressed in an expensive saree. Divya’s grandmother.

For a moment, she gasped, her hand covering her mouth as she looked at her son’s lifeless body. Tears filled her eyes.

But only for a minute. Then, she turned to Divya.

And smiled.

A disgusting, twisted smile.

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"Oh, Daddy! Do fasth!"

Little Amrita swung her tiny legs impatiently, her chubby hands gripping the edges of the wooden stool.

Her father chuckled softly, watching a hair-braiding tutorial on his phone as he carefully weaved her silky strands into a neat braid.

"Just a minute, Ammu."

Amrita pouted, her small arms crossing over her chest.

"Ananya, Isha didi, and Divya didi musht be waiting for us!" she whined, her words adorably mispronounced.

Her father smiled, his heart melting at her cuteness.

"There! All done." He tied the braid with a tiny pink ribbon.

Amrita jumped off the stool, twirling around in her small, sparkly pink princess dress. The fabric shimmered under the soft bedroom lights.

"Leths go, Daddi!" she chirped excitedly, grabbing his hand.

Her father grinned, lifting her up in his arms.

"Alright, my princess."

With Amrita nestled comfortably in his embrace, he carried her to the car, gently placing her in the passenger seat.

As soon as he started the engine, her tiny voice piped up again.

"Daddi, Daddi! I wanth to eath ice-cweam!"

Her father chuckled, shaking his head.

"Ammu, we’ll eat ice-cream after dinner."

But little Amrita wasn’t having it.

She pouted, her big brown eyes widening as she gave him her best puppy-eyed look.

Her father stole a glance at her —and sighed in defeat.

"Anything for my Ammu." He smiled, pulling out his phone.

Ring… Ring…

"Hello?"

"Ammu wants to eat ice-cream before dinner," he told Ananya’s father. "So why don’t we get ice-cream first and then go to the restaurant where Ishika and Divya are waiting?"

A short pause, then—

"Okay, we are coming!" Ananya’s father replied.

Amrita giggled in excitement, clapping her tiny hands.

Amrita’s father drove at a steady pace, the cool night air whistling softly through the slightly open windows.

A few moments later, a familiar car pulled up beside them.

"That was pretty fast!" Amrita’s father called out, rolling his window down.

Ananya’s father grinned.

Before anyone could say anything more, a tiny voice shrieked from the other car.

"Litu! Litu!"

Amrita turned her head and broke into a wide, bright smile.

Through the window, she saw Ananya bouncing excitedly in her mother’s lap, waving at her.

"Happy bilthdayyy!!" Ananya clapped her hands cutely.

"Thank youu, Anu!!" Amrita squealed back, her excitement mirroring her best friend’s.

Both their fathers chuckled, watching the two girls with fond amusement.

The cars continued side by side, the warm glow of streetlights flickering over them.

Inside Ananya’s car, her mother suddenly spoke up.

"Anu, do you want to talk to Mama?"

Ananya gasped, nodding eagerly.

"Yes, yes, yes!!" she chanted.

Her mother smiled, dialing the number and putting the phone on speaker mode.

Ring… Ring…

Then—

"Anu!" her Mama’s voice came through the speaker.

"Mamaaa!!" Ananya giggled, kicking her tiny feet.

"I'm going to get ice cleam with Lituu!!" she announced proudly.

Her father, mother, mama, and mami all chuckled at her enthusiasm.

Then another voice, playfully teasing, came from the phone.

"Anu! You're not taking your atha with you?"

(Atha~ Aunt, here, her mom's sister-in-law)

Ananya gasped dramatically, her little hands flying to her forehead.

"Ayyo!! Atha, come now! I will pick you!" she said, as if she could drive.

Laughter filled the car.

"And what about your Mama?" her Mama added.

Ananya grinned.

"Mama, you also comeee!" she insisted, twirling a piece of her dress between her fingers.

The adults chuckled at her innocence, their hearts warm with love.

Her mother then picked up the phone and placed it to her ear.

"I will call you once I get there, okay?"

"Okay, akka." Her Mama’s voice was still laced with amusement.

Then, his tone softened.

"Take care."

Ananya’s mother smiled softly, nodding before cutting the call.

The two cars continued their journey together—unaware that fate had other plans.

The rain had intensified, pouring heavily from the dark sky above, creating a blurred haze on the roads.

Suddenly, two massive lorries appeared from opposite directions, barreling toward the card at breakneck speed.

The impact was catastrophic. Each truck slammed into the cars, sending them flying off the road.

Inside Ananya’s car, her mother instinctively shielded her with her own body, trying to protect her precious child.

The car tumbled violently, flipping upside down, the sound of glass shattering filling the air as it skidded. Ananya screamed in terror, the world spinning around her.

In the other car, Amrita’s father acted quickly, pulling Amrita into his arms just before the force of the impact sent their car spiraling into a pole.

The collision shattered the vehicle, and the electric wires fell onto the wreckage, sparking dangerously.

Amrita’s father, with his head smashed against the steering wheel, looked down at his daughter. Blood was pooling, but he was still holding onto her. His breath was shallow, his chest tight.

"Sorry, Ammu," he whispered, his voice cracking as his eyes fluttered closed, his body no longer responding. He passed away, cradling his daughter in his arms.

Back in Ananya’s car, the scene was no less chaotic. The car was upside down, blood everywhere, with broken glass scattered around. Ananya, crying uncontrollably, reached over to her mother.

"Amma! Amma!" she sobbed, shaking her, trying desperately to wake her. But there was no response. Her mother was lifeless.

As Ananya's cries echoed through the wreckage, a cold, calculated figure walked towards the scene.

Vicky, the man who orchestrated the nightmare, strolled over casually, blowing out smoke from his cigar as he surveyed the damage.

"Pretty impressive," he said with a sneer. His eyes looked coldly at the wreckage, showing no hint of remorse.

He turned to his men. "Give the lorry drivers a bonus," he ordered, walking away as if the lives lost meant nothing.

As he climbed into his car, he sped off, leaving behind the twisted wreckage and the sound of a young girl’s cries.

Ananya, alone in the wreckage, could only weep, trapped in a moment of unbearable loss, her world shattered around her.

It was a night of unbearable sorrow, and the air was thick with grief as the families arrived at the scene of the crash.

Amrita's Atha, Vaidehi, wailed uncontrollably, her heart shattering at the sight of her brother’s lifeless body.

"Annaaaaa!" Her voice echoed through the night as she collapsed onto the road, her grief overwhelming her.

Her husband, Deva, knelt beside her, holding her back as she wept, his face clouded with sorrow.

He couldn’t bear to see her in this state, but he remained silent, his tears betraying his own pain.

"Deva! Annaa!" Vaidehi screamed again, pointing at her brother. The weight of loss crushed her, and she could barely find the strength to breathe.

Deva gently wrapped his arms around her, trying to console her in the only way he knew, though his own grief was just as consuming.

He shed a few silent tears, but he remained strong, his focus entirely on his wife as she wept uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, Ananya’s mama, Raghav, stood frozen in place.

His eyes were fixated on his sister, his heart torn apart by the sight of her lifeless body.

Tears blurred his vision, but he didn’t make a sound, unable to express the weight of his sorrow.

His wife, Sujata, clutched his arm tightly, her eyes glued to the bodies of their loved ones, too shocked to speak.

Raghav didn’t even look at Ananya, who had been sedated by the police officers due to the intensity of her grief.

As Amrita’s condition remained critical, she was rushed to the ICU, and the doctors worked tirelessly to keep her alive.

The night passed in a blur of hospital lights and painful silences.

Amrita's Atha and Mama took turns performing the last rites for Amrita’s father.

The weight of the rituals seemed even more crushing, as they grieved their loss while trying to honor the man who had meant so much to them.

Once Amrita was stabilized and her condition somewhat improved, she was brought back home.

But her Mama, Deva, was consumed by a new feeling—hatred.

His heart was filled with anger, an emotion that seemed out of place in the wake of such tragedy, but it burned within him nonetheless.

He blamed Amrita—in his heart, there was a belief that her life, her very existence, was tied to the chaos and destruction that had torn his family apart.

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After the four girls shared the heartbreaking details, Divya and Ananya were overwhelmed with tears.

Ishika, however, remained strong, though her eyes held the pain of the memories.

Amrita sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor as she processed everything.

Mahima, sitting between Divya and Ananya, gently held their hands, offering them comfort in the silence that followed.

Aaryansh glanced at Amrita, his heart aching for her. He could see the toll it had taken on her—she couldn't carry this weight anymore.

Geeta and Ishwar exchanged looks, both of them thinking about how much Amrita had suffered, how long she had carried this burden alone.

Rudraksh’s voice broke through the tension. "It was your birthday," he said softly, his eyes on Amrita. She gave a small nod, her expression unreadable.

Aaryansh exhaled deeply, his frustration with the situation evident. He stood up, his hand reaching out to Amrita.

"I'm tired," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "I need to sleep, and so does my wife. We are going to our room."

Without waiting for anyone to respond, he led Amrita away, his grip on her hand steady and reassuring.

Amrita didn’t protest; she simply followed, her mind too tired to argue, seeking the solitude they both desperately needed.

"It's been too much, Rest everyone." Rukmini said, her voice soft but firm. Everyone in the room nodded in agreement, the weight of the day settling on them.

The grief, the pain, the stories shared—it had all been too much to bear in one sitting.

One by one, they began to stand, the quiet murmur of tired voices filling the air as everyone prepared to rest.

The room, once filled with voices and emotions, grew silent as they dispersed to their respective places.

The house, heavy with sorrow, now felt empty, as if even the walls needed a moment of peace.

Rukmini watched everyone leave, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what each person had endured.

Mahima stood up, her eyes tired from the long conversation and the weight of everything she had just shared. She gathered herself, ready to leave, but before she could take a step, Rishi spoke up.

"Why don't you stay here for the day?" he offered gently, his tone warm but considerate.

Mahima paused, looking at him with a slight frown of confusion. She wasn’t used to such offers, especially not after everything that had happened.

Rishi smiled softly, noticing her hesitation. "We have a guest room," he added, his voice reassuring.

Mahima looked down for a moment, unsure, before nodding slowly. "I... I think that would be okay," she replied quietly, appreciating the gesture, even if it felt strange.

Rishi smiled back and motioned for her to follow him. He led her to the guest room, where she could finally rest, away from the storm of emotions that had consumed the day.

As she settled into the room, the softness of the bed and the quiet of the house provided a brief moment of peace.

Mahima lay down, closing her eyes, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she allowed herself to drift into sleep, hoping for a little reprieve from the grief that lingered.

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And they allowed themselves to finally rest.