The Twisted Knots

32.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the quiet streets as I hurried towards the dimly lit cafe. My mind was in turmoil, torn between the conviction that what I was doing was right and the gnawing fear of Yash's reaction if he ever found out.

Tonight, I was keeping secrets from him, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was betraying his trust.

As I stepped into the cozy cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with my swirling thoughts. I scanned the room nervously until I spotted her sitting in a secluded corner, her eyes locked on the cup of coffee in front of her.

She was the reason for my inner turmoil –Shrestha. Her sudden message to meet had ignited a spark of curiosity within me, a desperate hope that she held the answers to the questions plaguing my mind.

Why wasRajveer accused of such a hideous crime? Was it really him? What secrets lay hidden behind his icy demeanor? And why did I feel drawn to uncovering the truth, even if it meant betraying Yash's trust by meeting her?

Yesterday's conversation between them was enough to tell that they shared some history. I need to uncover that.

As I approached her table, Shrestha's eyes met mine. Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. Did she sense my inner conflict? Could she see through the facade of certainty I tried to maintain?

"Sit," she gestured, her voice barely above a whisper. "How have you been? I have been trying to meet you for a long time."

I hesitated, my mind racing with thoughts of Yash and the consequences of my actions. But curiosity won out, and I sank into the chair opposite her, ready to hear whatever revelations she had to offer.

As I grappled with the weight of my decisions, one thing became clear – I couldn't turn back now. Whatever lay ahead, I had to see it through, for better or for worse. And if Yash ever found out, well... I could only hope that our bond was strong enough to weather the storm.

As I sat across from Shrestha, her presence seemed to fill the room with an air of solemnity. She extended her hand towards me, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Hi, I'm Shrestha," she said softly.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of familiarity at the sound of her name. "I know your name," I replied, a hint of surprise in my voice.

Shrestha chuckled softly, her eyes reflecting understanding. "Yes, I suppose you do. I just wanted to introduce myself formally," she explained, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "Yesterday was quite a mess, wasn't it?"

I nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Yes, it certainly was," I admitted, remembering the chaos of the previous day's events.

Feeling a sudden urge to delve deeper into the connection between Shrestha and the Singhania family, I cleared my throat nervously. "Can I ask you a question?" I ventured, meeting her gaze earnestly.

Shrestha nodded, her expression curious yet open. "Of course," she replied, her tone encouraging.

I hesitated for a moment before plunging ahead with my inquiry. "How do you know the Singhania family?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by the mysterious bond between them.

Her smile faded slightly, and I felt a pang of unease wash over me. Had I overstepped my bounds with such a personal question?

However, Shrestha's gentle demeanor put me at ease as she began to speak. "The Singhania family... they've been like a second family to me," she revealed, her voice tinged with both gratitude and sorrow.

I offered a quiet apology, feeling a wave of sympathy for her loss. "I'm sorry," I murmured, regretting bringing up such a painful topic.

But Shrestha shook her head, her eyes meeting mine with a reassuring gaze. "It's okay," she assured me. "You didn't know."

As she continued to speak, her words painted a poignant picture of her past. "My mother was a houseworker in the Singhania household," she explained, her voice tinged with emotion. "She accompanied Rajveer's mother to the warehouse one day, and... the warehouse caught fire."

My heart sank at the tragic turn of events, my mind reeling with the weight of her words. "Both Rajveer's and my mother... they died in that fire," she revealed, her voice trembling with emotion.

I sat in stunned silence, grappling with the enormity of her loss and the unexpected connection between us. It was a revelation that left me speechless, a reminder of the tangled webs of fate that bound us together in ways I could never have imagined.

As tears welled up in Shrestha's eyes, my heart ached for her pain. Without hesitation, I reached for a tissue from the table and offered it to her. She accepted it gratefully, using it to wipe away the tears that threatened to spill over.

In a voice heavy with sorrow, she continued, her words carrying a weight of their own. "I was there... I saw my mom," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her gaze haunted by the memories of that fateful day.

I listened intently as she spoke, the gravity of her words sinking in. But then, her tone shifted, becoming more serious, more determined. "It wasn't an accident," she declared, her voice firm with conviction. "It was murder."

My eyes widened in shock at her revelation, my mind reeling with disbelief. "What do you mean?" I questioned, unable to comprehend the enormity of her accusation.

Shrestha's gaze held mine with unwavering intensity. "I saw someone by the warehouse when the incident happened," she explained, her voice tinged with anger. "He was running away, not helping them but fleeing from the scene. He was definitely involved."

As her words sank in, I felt a chill run down my spine. The realization that her mother's death may have been deliberate sent shivers through me, and I struggled to make sense of the horrifying truth.

"I decided then and there that I would bring justice to my mom," Shrestha declared, her voice filled with determination. "There was no reason for her to be involved in that."

My mind reeled with the enormity of her resolve, the bravery it must have taken for her to carry such a burden for so long. "I was only 13 at the time," she murmured.

My heart breaking for the young girl she had been.

Leaning in closer, Shrestha's voice took on a note of urgency. "Tara, be careful," she warned, her words laden with a sense of foreboding. "The Singhania family is not what they seem. They are very dangerous people."