After Life: Sara & Padma's Journey After Departure

How can I leave?

SARA:

 Oh God, why was everything so messed up in my life? I couldn't even imagine telling him the truth. I had no idea if he would believe me at first. I couldn't bear the thought of him questioning if it was real or if I was telling the truth. I just needed to push through this mental anguish.

 "Padma, stay in Rani aunty's room, okay?" I asked. 

"Okay," she nodded. 

"Come on, let's go to her room," I said. She held my hand.

 "Rani, I'm going out. Take care of her," I said. 

"Okay," she replied. I returned to my office room, feeling the weight of my emotions. I teleported back home, struggling to catch my breath. Something was squeezing my chest, making it hard to breathe. I craved the physical pain to match the turmoil within me. I undid my belt and took it from my pants. I struck myself with the belt, each blow harder than the last. The pain was excruciating, but it somehow dulled the ache in my heart. I lost count of how many times I struck myself, but it must have been more than ten. 

 DEV: 

 I went back to Sara's office, determined to apologize to her. But she wasn't there. Padma was playing in Rani's office, so I asked Rani if she knew where Sara had gone. 

"I don't know, she didn't tell me where she was going," Rani replied. 

 I was worried. Where could she have gone? I decided to check her home, as it was the only other place I could think of. As I arrived, I was shocked to find her beating herself with a belt and screaming in pain. 

"What are you doing?" I asked in disbelief. She turned to look at me, her face filled with shock and tears streaming down her cheeks. She threw the belt on the sofa and wiped her face, but she didn't answer my questions. 

"Please," I pleaded, trying to keep my anger in check. I didn't want to make things worse for her; she was already hurting.

 "Can you please tell me why you're doing this to yourself?" I asked gently, moving closer to her.

 "You can confide in me; I'm here to help you," I reassured her, wiping the tears from her face.

 "It's okay, you can tell me," I encouraged. Tears continued to flow from her eyes, and I continued to console her. 

"Why do I feel so broken, so shattered that it can't be fixed?" she cried out. I touched her face, looking into her eyes. 

"You're not broken; you're strong, resilient," I assured her. She stopped weeping and gazed at me. 

 "You are a strong woman. You're not broken; you're getting tougher with every challenge you face, and that's why things seem harder. Don't lose hope," I said. 

She questioned, "Do I look strong? I feel like a mess crying in front of you."

 "You are amazing. I can't imagine how you've raised your daughter all on your own. KK told me about your husband, and I understand he was taken away from you to protect your daughter. You are stronger than you realize. I have faith that you can overcome anything, believe me," I said. I placed my hand on her arm just below her shoulder, and she winced in pain. I quickly withdrew my hand.

 "May I take a look?" I asked, and she nodded.

 "Can I remove your shirt to see your wounds?" I asked. She nodded, and I proceeded to unbutton her shirt and gently removed it, revealing her black bra underneath. Her skin displayed angry red welts and scars on her back and arms.