We were headed toward the brightly lit fair when I instinctively put my hands in my pant pocket, only to find my phone was missing. A small panic surged through me. I instantly called out Saira's name, and the entire group ground to a halt.
Saira turned, her eyebrows raised in question. I pulled her aside and urgently asked about my phone.
Without a word, she simply pointed toward Misha. Confused, I gave Saira a questioning look, to which she replied, "Misha di was standing nearby, so I tucked your phone into her bag."
I simply stared at her in utter disbelief. With a slight shrug, Saira moved back to rejoin the other girls, and Karthik and I continued our walk toward the fair.
A few minutes later, we reached the fairgrounds, and the girls quickly scattered, pairing up to explore. Rithika and Karthik were drawn to the sweet scent of the cotton candy stall.
Misha and Ruhi wandered toward the sparkling jhumka (earring) shop. Ayaan and Noor were standing in the long line for the thrilling giant wheel, with Saira and Rida right beside them, already giggling.
Meanwhile, Aakarsh was standing next to Akshara, carefully selecting bangles for her. I found myself standing beside my younger brother, Shivansh.
"Bhai, let's go over to Misha and Ruhi near the jhumka shop," Shivansh suggested, pointing across the crowded path. I nodded, and we made our way over.
Once we reached the shop, Shivansh immediately spoke to Ruhi, "Ruhi, woh wala try karna" pointing to a silver jhumka with beautiful pink stones nestled in the center.
(Ruhi, try that one)
At that moment, Akshara called out from the adjacent bangle shop, "Misha di, how are these?" She lifted her wrist slightly, proudly displaying the new bangles.
"Wow, they are so beautiful! Akshara, ab tumhe he mere liye chudiya select karna hoga!" Misha exclaimed, genuinely appreciating the selection.
(Wow, they are so beautiful! Akshara, you have to select some bangles for me too!)
"But Aakarsh selected this set!" Akshara announced, and she and Aakarsh stood there, a look of shared pride on his face.
"Oh, nice taste in bangles, Aakarsh," Ruhi complimented, a statement that caused Shivansh to stare at her with a distinct pinch of jealousy.
I looked at Shivansh, genuinely surprised. I'd always known him as someone who strongly disliked girls—to the point where I'd wondered if he was interested in boys.
But seeing his reaction right now, I was absolutely certain he was completely, deeply in love with Ruhi. He was head over heels for her. I patted his shoulder, and he turned to face me.
"Why don't you select a set of bangles and give I them to her? It might just prove you have better taste than Aakarsh," I whispered into his ear. That was all the encouragement he needed. Shivansh immediately grabbed Ruhi's hand and eagerly pulled her toward the bangle shop.
Now, I was left standing there with Misha. I didn't want the situation to become awkward for her, so I decided to walk over to Saira. The giant wheel line hadn't moved an inch, and Saira was still standing there, completely preoccupied and giggling with Noor.
Yet, here I was, feeling incredibly restless without my phone, and knowing it was still sitting in Misha's bag.
"Saira, please mera phone wappas dedho na? I really need it now," I asked her in a soft, gentle voice. She readily agreed and walked over to Misha, saying something I couldn't hear.
(Saira, please can I have my phone back?)
After Saira finished speaking, Misha immediately handed her the bag without any hesitation. "Here, your phone," Saira said, passing me the phone taking it out of the bag which contained my phone.
I took it with a grateful smile, and she quickly walked back to her group. I immediately took out my phone and called Mr. Raichand. He is the private investigator currently searching for Vikram Agarwal.
I had first met Mr. Raichand during a business meeting in London, and our professional discussion had soon evolved into conversations about our personal lives as well.
He is the type of CEO who meticulously keeps his company and his family lives strictly separate. His completely professional approach to his work was the precise reason I had decided to sign the deal with him.
"Hello, good afternoon, Mr. Rajkot," Mr. Raichand greeted me. I returned his greeting immediately. "Mr. Raichand, did you find anything about Vikram?" I pressed, my voice taut with urgency.
"Yes, we were trying to hack his systems and we've found something. But first, Mr. Rajkot, please enjoy some time with your family," he replied, his tone firm yet gentle. Before I could object or ask for more details, he abruptly hung up the phone.
Enjoy? How could I possibly enjoy anything when the guilt of how I had hurt my Red Velvet—my beloved—weighed so heavily on my mind? A profound sigh escaped my lips, a sound of pure regret and frustration, as I walked toward the earrings shop.
The tension from the call, coupled with my persistent guilt, made the simple act of breathing a chore.
I approached the vendor and, pointing to a delicate pair nestled behind the glass, I asked him to pass me the jhumkas—the traditional bell-shaped earrings—which featured a cluster of shimmering white pearls dangling gracefully from the bottom. They were exquisite, a small offering of peace, perhaps.
"Please pack them up," I instructed, my eyes briefly closing as I imagined the light catching the pearls when she wore them.
This small, hurried purchase was my attempt to bridge the chasm my actions had created, a tangible expression of my desperate desire for forgiveness. I needed to see her smile again before I could possibly focus on Vikram or anything else.
I was at the small stall, just finishing paying the vendor for a beautiful pair of earrings, when I suddenly heard Karthik's voice, a sharp mix of confusion and pure disgust.
I turned immediately and found the source of his alarm it was Rithika, his wife, blissfully eating a cloud of pink cotton candy smeared with a generous dollop of bright red ketchup.
"Mishti, what in the world are you doing?" Karthik managed to ask, his face twisted in disbelief.
I couldn't help it, a loud chuckle escaped me. Karthik instantly turned his glare from Rithika to me. "Oh, you find this very funny, don't you? Just you wait, my friend when your turn comes, I'll see how much you laugh then," he said, the playful threat in his eyes perfectly clear.
Rithika, unbothered by her unconventional snack or her husband's theatrics, simply slapped his bicep. He let out a dramatic, drawn-out wince of pain.
Though I felt a pang of sympathy for him, I knew Karthik was only acting to make his wife feel better—a small, endearing ritual between them. Shaking my head and smiling at the loving couple, I finally made my way towards the rest of our chaotic group.
They were still standing exactly where I had left them, anxiously waiting for their turn on the Giant Wheel.
"What happened? Are all of you still waiting here?" I asked, and everyone turned toward me with exasperated expressions.
"Yes, bhai. This line hasn't moved an inch!" Rida whined, tossing her hair back dramatically.
"Just a minute," Rida announced, already moving away. "I'm going to call Misha Di, Ruhi Bhabhi, Shivansh Bhai, Akshara, and Aakarsh to join us."
After a short while, all of us—except for Karthik and Rithika, who were likely still arguing over condiments—were finally lined up. That's when Ayaan took charge of the logistics.
"Listen up, everyone," he announced. "We can't all fit in one cars, so we'll need to make groups. Saira and Rida are going with the younger kids, so they're excluded from the main groups."
He then quickly assigned the adults "So, Akshara, Aakarsh, Shivansh Bhai, and Ruhi Bhabhi will go in one car. And I, Noor, Misha Di, and Vihaan Bhai will go in the other."
Everyone nodded in agreement and settled in for the wait. After what felt like an entire hour of slow, shuffling movement, we were all finally settled into our respective compartments.
Ayaan was sitting right beside me, and as the wheel began its slow ascent, he started screaming at the top of his lungs—genuinely terrified, as if he were about to face a mortal doom.
We had finally reached the absolute peak of the Giant Wheel, where the evening air was cool and the lights of the fair sparkled far below.
I seized the moment, pulling out my phone to snap a picture. Misha was sitting directly across from me, and I quickly clicked the shutter, capturing her in a candid moment as she gazed out the, unaware.
Putting my phone away, I turned back to Ayaan. He was practically paralyzed, sitting rigidly with his eyes squeezed shut.
His hands, however, were not his own, they were firmly held by Noor. She was sitting close, gently but firmly holding his hands, a quiet reassurance in the face of his panic.
"Ayaan, please, open your eyes and look at the view," Noor coaxed him softly. "It's beautiful up here."
Slowly, tentatively, Ayaan's eyes fluttered open.
Watching them, I felt a strange mix of emotions. These two were a complete puzzle. One minute, they would be acting completely normal and relaxed, and the next, they would explode into a silly, ferocious fight.
But right now, in this small, suspended cars, with his hands safe in hers, their tenderness was undeniable. I just didn't know what to say to them—their on-again, off-again dynamic was a unique show all its own.
🦋
The ride ended, predictably, with Ayaan and Noor bickering—their usual complicated, tangled dynamic. Frankly, I should have seen it coming, trying to decipher those two is a fool's errand.
We all stepped off the giant wheel, the air still humming with the thrill of the height, and were just about to walk toward the next attraction when Misha's phone began to ring, its sudden, sharp sound cutting through the cheerful park noise.
Misha answered, holding the phone to her ear, and her cheerful expression immediately dissolved.
As the person on the other end spoke, her face drained of all color. She didn't say a word, she just swayed slightly, her hand slackening around the device.
Then, in a terrifying moment, she collapsed, sinking to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
My entire world seemed to lurch. I didn't think, I only reacted. Scooping her up, I cradled her slight weight in my arms. The sudden weight, the limpness of her body, sent a wave of icy terror through me.
In that instant, I truly felt like my own world was coming to a catastrophic end. Everything else faded, the bright lights, the screaming rides, the people, even the endless argument of Ayaan and Noor.
Karthik, moving with a desperate clarity, knelt to retrieve the forgotten phone and listen to the frantic voice on the line. But I didn't wait. My focus was only on Misha, her still form pressed against me.
Clutching her tightly, I ran toward the park exit, my mind already racing through the fastest routes to help, the sweet, gentle,
Misha, my Red velvet is now in my arms with her eyes closed.
_____________________________________
I was just starting to step out of the giant wheel car when the sharp, insistent sound of my phone ringing cut through the carnival noise.
I fumbled for it in my pocket, but the momentum of exiting the ride, combined with the crowd moving around me, made me lose the call before I could answer.
No matter, I thought, sliding the phone back into my jeans. I continued walking, catching up with the others, my mind already drifting to which thrilling ride we'd hit next.
But before we'd taken more than a few steps, the ringtone blared again—more jarring this time. I stopped, pulled the phone out, and saw the name, Anushka Aunty.
I quickly brought the phone to my ear. "Hello—" I began, trying to sound calm over the background noise.
But I didn't get to finish. Before I could even ask how she was, her voice—high-pitched, strained, and on the verge of tears—spoke with a horrifying urgency, "Beta, Manisha aur Raman ka accident ho gaya hai. Jaldi Rajkot Hospital ajao".
(Child, Manisha and Raman have been in an accident. Come to the Rajkot Hospital quickly)."
Her words struck me not as sound, but as a physical blow. The world instantly tilted. It was a complete shock, a brutal, unfilterable piece of news that ripped through the fabric of the pleasant evening. My heart didn't just drop, it felt like it shattered and dissolved inside my chest.
A profound, sickening wave of weakness washed over me. It was as if the ground itself had suddenly given way beneath my feet; I literally felt the strength drain from my legs. I didn't have time to process, to scream, or even to panic.
The cheerful, dizzying lights of the amusement park became a swirling, meaningless blur as a dark curtain descended over my vision. My grip slackened, and the phone tumbled from my hand.
The last sensation I registered was the cold, hard ground rushing up to meet me before I collapsed completely, the terrifying news locking me into sudden unconsciousness.
🦋
My eyes fluttered open, heavy and disoriented. The first thing I registered was the gentle, rocking motion of the world and the familiar, worried faces close to mine.
I saw Mr. Rajkot on my right, his brow furrowed with concern, and Karthik bhai on my left, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.
I realized I was lying on a wooden bench, still within the loud, brightly lit confines of the fairground.
With the help of both Mr. Rajkot and Karthik bhai, I managed to sit up, my head throbbing. For a moment, I was simply grateful to be conscious, but then the memory—that horrific, sharp piece of reality—slammed back into my mind Anushka Aunty's words.
I turned to Karthik bhai, the shock from the news freezing the words on my tongue. My voice felt like brittle glass, and I could only manage broken syllables.
"Bh...ai, bhai, Mum...ma au...r Pa...pa ka... ka ac... accident ho gaya," I finally managed to gasp out, the sound barely a whisper.
(Bhai, mumma and dad are met with an accident)
As the full realization of what I had just said hit everyone, the cheerful clamor of the fair instantly faded into a distant buzz.
All faces around me turned pale and stricken. Tears were hot and sharp in my eyes, but I forced myself to finish, needing to make the reality undeniable. "Th...ey ar...e in Rajkot Hospital."
Karthik bhai didn't need any more instruction. He simply nodded once, his expression grim and focused, and immediately turned, heading toward the parking lot with Rithika hurrying to keep pace beside him. One by one, the others followed, their hurried steps and silent urgency signaling the end of the night's fun.
Suddenly, Mr. Rajkot and I were alone. He stood up, clearly preparing to leave and follow the others. A desperate, primal need to move, to get to the hospital now, overtook me.
"Mr. Rajkot, can I come with you?" I asked, the shaking in my voice impossible to hide.
He paused, looked down at me, and his expression softened slightly before he gave a firm nod in agreement.
Without another word exchanged, we walked swiftly toward his car. I didn't hesitate or consider who I was getting into a vehicle with all formality had been stripped away by crisis.
I simply yanked open the back door and slid onto the seat. He took the driver's seat, and in the next moment, the engine roared to life, its deep sound the only thing louder than the frantic pounding of my heart as we sped away from the carnival lights and toward the chilling uncertainty of the hospital.
We finally screeched to a halt at the hospital entrance. My heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I threw open the car door and bolted inside, the sterile air immediately chilling my skin. I made a beeline for the reception desk, my voice tight with panic.
"Mr. and Mrs. Joshi—where are they admitted?" I gasped, leaning over the counter, my knuckles white against the marble.
The receptionist, a young woman with a strangely detached expression, barely glanced up from her computer. "First floor," she replied flatly, pointing toward the elevators without a hint of concern for the urgency in my face.
Ignoring the slow crawl of the elevator, I took the stairs two at a time, each step a desperate prayer. The metallic scent of the handrail was a stark contrast to the tears that were already blurring my vision.
When I burst onto the first floor, the hushed hallway felt miles long, lined with closed doors that seemed to guard terrible secrets.
My eyes scanned the area until they landed on the small waiting cluster near the ICU. There, slumped against the wall, was Karthik Bhai, his tall frame shaking uncontrollably as he buried his face in Rithika's arms.
The silent, agonizing quality of his grief—not a loud wail, but a deep, rending sorrow—sent a jolt of icy dread straight through me.
Seeing him like that, the strong, steady pillar of our family, shattered my last sliver of forced calm. My initial worry intensified into a cold, paralysing terror that rooted me to the spot.
I stood frozen, unable to move, my gaze glued to the polished floor until a door hissed open. The doctor emerged from the ICU, a figure in green scrubs holding a clipboard and looking utterly exhausted.
The sight of those documents, the official barrier between life and uncertainty, galvanized me. I lunged forward, stumbling a little, and rushed toward him.
"Doctor! Are my parents fine?" I practically pleaded, grabbing his arm, my voice a desperate croak.
He sighed, his professional mask struggling to stay in place as he gently pulled away. "Sorry, ma'am," he began, his tone grave, "but we can't decide anything just yet. Mrs. Joshi has sustained a very severe head injury."
He offered no further details, his words hanging in the air like a death sentence before he turned briskly and walked away, leaving me adrift in a silent sea of fear.
"Di, please don't lose hope," a soft voice broke through my shock. It was Ruhi, her hands immediately reaching for mine. "Uncle and Aunty are fighters. They will be fine." Her encouragement, though heartfelt, was the dam breaking.
The gravity of the situation hit me with a physical force, and I collapsed onto the cold linoleum floor, a raw, wracking sob tearing itself from my chest.
Akshara and Noor rushed over, their comforting voices a distant buzz, their arms trying to cradle and hold me steady, but their efforts were all in vain. The world had narrowed to the burning agony of my grief.
🦋
More than two agonizing hours had bled into the night, yet no one had emerged from the Intensive Care Unit with news—and neither of my parents had regained consciousness.
The silence of the waiting room was a heavy, suffocating blanket. I couldn't bear to sit; my restlessness kept me perpetually on my feet. I gravitated toward the ICU door, standing pressed against the wall, as close as I could get to them without breaking the rules.
The small glass window in the door offered a limited, heart-wrenching view. My focus was locked on my dad's face. It was pale and still against the pristine white of the pillow, made starkly vulnerable by the thick bandage wrapped around his head.
Seeing him, my anchor, my protector, reduced to this frail, silent form, was almost unbearable. I stood there, a statue of grief, just staring, willing him to open his eyes.
I was completely lost in the harrowing sight, when I suddenly felt a warm, heavy hand on my head. It was a touch of gentle reassurance that broke through my trance.
I turned slowly, my eyes still wet, and saw Ashok Uncle standing beside me. His face, usually jovial, was etched with concern, but his eyes held a profound, comforting love.
He didn't speak a word at first, simply continuing to gently caress my hair, a gesture that spoke volumes.
"Beta," he finally said, his voice soft and steady, "We are all here with you. And Raman will be fine. Nothing bad will happen to him."
I could only manage a small, shaky nod in response, the lump in my throat too large for words.
I didn't move from my spot. Instead, I turned back to the window, my gaze sweeping over my unconscious father once more.
He was more than just my parent, he was my hero, the man whose strength I always relied on, the gentle tutor who had patiently guided me through life.
I leaned my head slightly against the cool wall, finding a measure of strength just in the proximity of the man who meant everything to me.
After what felt like an eternity, a decision was made. The group realized that the vigil would be long, and they needed supplies. Saira and Rida, looking emotionally drained but determined, were dispatched from the tense hospital corridor.
They were sent home, accompanied by Anushka and Shwetha, with the grim but necessary task of gathering food and essentials for the extended stay ahead.
Leaving the ICU was a brief, painful respite, a momentary surrender of the watch to attend to the mundane needs of survival.
The four women left with the heavy understanding that they were carrying the hopes and anxieties of everyone remaining.
Meanwhile, inside the crowded, hushed waiting area, the younger men were trying to piece together the fragments of the devastating event.
Ayaan and Shivansh, unable to sit still and consumed by worry, approached Siddharth Uncle and Abhay Uncle. The two elder men were the most composed members of the family, and the younger generation looked to them for a factual account—a way to anchor the chaos with details.
Ayaan spoke first, his voice low and urgent, "Uncle, can you tell us exactly what happened? How did the accident occur?"
Shivansh leaned in, his expression tight. They needed to understand the mechanics of the crash, searching for a logical reason behind the brutal, random tragedy.
_____________________________________
Hey readers,
Thank you all for reading the eighth chapter!
And if anyone wants to read more they can check out my book on Wattpad guys!!
I know this chapter might be boring but this was an important chapter so I had to write.
On a much brighter note, I'm thrilled to announce a change to the update schedule! Starting immediately, you can look forward to two brand new chapters every week.
This will allow us to progress through the story more quickly and get to the heart of the action sooner.
And guys, the next chapter is gonna be of Karthik's and Rithika's POV.
I hope you are enjoying the book so far!
And lastly please vote the chapter if you like it.
Happy reading 💛💛
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