WICKETS AND WIDGETS

The Swift One

With trembling hands, I answered the call and held the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Aryan, how are you?" Natasha's cheerful voice greeted me.

My mind raced with doubts. Could Natasha, with her usual bubbly demeanor, be connected to the dark underworld? It seemed improbable, but the coincidence was unnerving.

I glanced at Kabir, sensing his concern, but I reassured him with a shake of my head. This was just a friend calling, nothing to worry about. Turning back to the phone, I replied, "Uh, I'm doing okay. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm feeling great today. Incredibly so," Natasha's voice came over the phone, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Why?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"It's my dad's birthday today," she replied casually.

"Oh," I responded quietly, feeling a sense of dread creeping in. "Send him my wishes."

"I will," she said, her tone turning somber. "But he might not respond."

"Why not?" I pressed, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

"He's dead," she said flatly, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks.

My heart plummeted further. The uncanny similarities between the woman we sought and Natasha unsettled me deeply. With a heavy heart, I offered my condolences, "I'm sorry for your loss."

There was a pregnant pause before Natasha's voice returned, cool and composed, "Where are you right now?"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully, "I'm with a friend, just catching up. An old friend."

"Ah, old friends are priceless, aren't they? The best memories come from those reunions," Natasha replied, her tone light and cheerful.

"Absolutely," I replied, trying to sound composed despite the turmoil inside.

"Are you feeling unwell?" Natasha inquired with concern.

"No, I'm fine," I assured her firmly.

"Okay then," she responded from her end.

Taking a deep breath, I broached the subject, "Did you happen to catch the news today?"

"You mean Sana Rai's accident report?" Natasha asked, her tone flat.

"Yes, that's the one," I confirmed.

She fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. "Yes, I saw it," she finally responded, her voice tinged with sadness and a hint of resignation. "It's disheartening to witness such cruelty, especially towards someone I've always admired."

There was a palpable tension in the conversation now, as if unspoken fears were weaving through the words exchanged. "Do you think it could have been planned?" I ventured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha hesitated before answering, her tone growing somber. "In this world, where power and ambition often lead to dark deeds, nothing surprises me anymore," she admitted, her words carrying a weight of experience and disillusionment. "But to think that someone would go to such lengths..." Her voice trailed off, the implication of such a possibility hanging in the silence between us.

The words hung heavy between us, laden with unspoken implications. "Could someone have a vendetta against her?" I mused aloud, my voice tinged with unease.

There was a pause on the other end before Natasha replied, her tone grave. "In this era of vendettas and hidden agendas, anyone could be a target," she said, her words carrying a sense of foreboding. "Especially someone like Sana, who never shied away from controversy. Perhaps she crossed paths with the wrong people, and now they're seeking retribution."