TIME BOUND

PART 13 | THE DEAD HERO

Romi, with a sense of disbelief, read the headline of the old newspaper, "The Dark Night Hero saves the city once again..." He tossed the old paper into the dustbin, his frustration palpable.

"It's hard to believe he's gone... The good ones never seem to last..." he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, Drishti's voice cut through the silence, "Romi!" She flicked on the television. The screen lit up, revealing a local channel where an interviewer was discussing the "Martyred Hero", who had tragically perished in a fire while saving others.

Drishti inhaled deeply, her gaze drifting towards the window where the half-moon peeked through. As the gentle breeze turned harsh, and the clouds veiled the moon, she allowed her tears to flow freely. She buried her face in her pillow, her muffled screams echoing the pain of her loss. Forgetting 'him' was a task too daunting.

Every time danger loomed, and she rushed to protect people, he was already there. The people's faith in their 'superhero' remained unshaken, for he never failed them.

She stared at her palms, her fingers nervously playing with a dollar bill, "Why, mumma? Why is this happening to me? I never asked him to reveal his true identity... I expected nothing from him..." Drishti sobbed uncontrollably.

"I found my sister... but why did I have to lose my love? Why did he have to die?" she questioned, pulling her knees closer to her chest.

She had fallen for him, and perhaps, he had too.

"Anjaan..." she whispered, glancing at the date. It marked his death anniversary.

Anjaan, or 'unknown', as she affectionately called him, was someone for whom Drishti would willingly risk her life. Despite her deep love for him, she couldn't reveal her ability to foresee the future, bound by a promise she had made to her mother.

Quietly, Drishti descended the stairs, noticing Romi asleep on the couch. She gently covered him with a blanket before stepping out of the house, heading towards a place they used to meet.

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As the park began to empty, onlookers couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for the young girl who sat alone, her face a picture of desolation. Drishti was perched on a stone bench, her spirit seeming as lifeless as the cold stone beneath her.

"I've finally found my sister," she whispered to herself, hastily wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

"It's time for me to move forward," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her throat tightening with the effort.

"But that doesn't mean I'll let another man take your place, Anjaan," she continued, her hands absentmindedly rubbing her arms for warmth. She had left her sweater at home, knowing all too well that even the warmest of clothes couldn't thaw the chill in her heart.

"Ms. Sood, what brings you here?" A voice startled her from her thoughts. It was Shikhar, looking at her with a puzzled expression.

"I'm just here for a walk," she replied, trying to sound casual.

"At this hour?" Shikhar asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes, I wasn't feeling well, so I thought a walk might help," she said, her gaze shifting uncomfortably.

"My brother and I can drop you home if you want. Wait, where is he? Brother?" Shikhar called out, looking around.

"He's probably on his phone, as usual!" Shikhar chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"But what brings you here?" Drishti asked, knowing that the Shergill Mansion was quite a distance from the park.

"We just came here for some fun," Shikhar shrugged, just as Rakshit ended his call and turned around.

"Brother, can't you see she's in distress? She's shivering," Shikhar pointed out, crossing his arms.

"So? She should have brought a blanket or a sweater with her," Rakshit replied nonchalantly, his attention already back on his phone.

"You're right, Mr. Shergill. I think I should leave now," she said, turning around to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. Rakshit sighed at the sight of her tears.

"Don't mind him, he's always been a bit arrogant. I'll drop you home," Shikhar offered, shooting a glare at his brother.

With that, the brothers escorted Drishti to their car, ready to take her home.

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Shikhar broke the silence in the car, "So, you never mentioned that you were a fan of the Darknight hero." His voice was filled with curiosity. Rakshit, who was driving, glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

"Yes, I am quite a fan," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Rakshit let out a sarcastic chuckle, "A fan, indeed!"

Shikhar, noticing her discomfort, voiced his concern, "Miss Sood, you seem to be troubled about something."

She quickly dismissed his concern, "No, not really. I'm just a bit tired."

Shikhar began to advise her, "You should have stayed at home, Miss Sood, especially since you're not feeling well..." but was abruptly cut off by Rakshit.

"Enough with your lectures and questions, Shikhar," Rakshit snapped. Drishti, however, seemed lost in her own world. Her heart was heavy with grief, and her eyes clouded with unshed tears. Memories of her parents and Anjaan flooded her mind, reopening wounds that were still fresh. A sudden fear gripped her, making her shiver at the thought of losing Divya.

"No!" She shouted, startling both Rakshit and Shikhar.

"Miss Sood, are you alright?" Rakshit asked, his voice laced with worry.

"I'm not okay," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. As the car pulled up to its destination, she quickly got out.

"Miss Sood," Rakshit began, but she cut him off.

"Thank you for the lift, Mr. Shergill," she said hurriedly, before rushing into her house.

"Strange," Shikhar mused, turning to Rakshit.

"She seems devastated, doesn't she? But why?" Shikhar asked his brother.

"Who knows," Rakshit replied, his gaze fixed on the closed door of her house.

"Perhaps she's lost something precious to her," he added, his reflection visible in the mirror, lost in thought.