STIFLED
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Shruti kept surfacing to consciousness, like a float bobbing up and down in the water. At first her awareness was fragmented. She could hear voices in the distance, though she couldn't make out any words, and a soft beeping noise. She was also aware of something in her throat, though she didn't realize it was a tube. She had no concept of where she was, or even that she was lying down.
The next time she bobbed up, she could feel smooth cotton beneath her and recognized the fabric as sheets. The next time she managed to open her eyes a slit, but her vision was blurry and darkness engulfed her once again. There was pain, but it was at a distance. The tube was gone from her throat now. She vaguely remembered it being removed, which hadn't been pleasant. She thought she saw a flurry of white coats. Hospital. She was in a hospital, she realized. Lights were sometimes very bright and dull at other times.
Gradually her dominion over her body began to return, as she fought off the effects of anaesthesia and drugs. With the return of consciousness, though, came the pain. It crept ever nearer as the fog of drugs receded.
She managed to make a weak gesture by moving her fingers, and croak out a single word. "Runal."
Someone, a nurse, smiled at her and said in a low soothing voice. "Welcome back. Your husband is right outside. Just hang in there and I'll send him in."
Shruti tried to nod but gave up as it seemed to take too much of an effort. Her drooping eyelids fluttered as the door made a slight swishing noise and she saw a figure slowly walking towards her. Her eyes widened. It was Runal but it didn't look like him. Dark circles under his sunken eyes, unshaven face that looked thin, almost gaunt, wrinkled clothes... My God! What happened?
She moved her lips to talk but all she could croak was the same one word. "Runal."
He came closer, closer still. Until he was standing right beside the bed. As she watched, his eyes filled up. Lifting a trembling hand, he touched her forehead. "Hey."
Shruti tried to smile. Wetting her dry, parched lips, she uttered, "Hey!"
The hand on her forehead slid until it was cupping her cheek. "Welcome back!"
"Wha' 'appened?" she accompanied the question with a slight hand movement.
"You met with an accident," Runal kept his voice low, soothing, not wanting to scare or confuse her. He wanted to pick her up and hug her tight, smother her face with kisses, run his hands over her to reassure that she was here. Back with him. He didn't do any of those things. "Don't worry," he said instead. "You'll be back to normal in no time."
"Accident..." Shruti tried to recall but her mind was too slow and numb with the drugs. She gave up after a few moments. "When?"
"Friday night. Today is Tuesday morning."
Unbelievably her lips formed a smile that spread across her face before reaching her eyes. She blinked, gesturing him to come closer. He leaned forward, taking her hand, the one that wasn't attached to the IV, into his and placed a tender kiss on her open palm. "You seem to look worse than I do," she observed, and looked pleased that her speech was clearer. Then her brow wrinkled as tension crept back. "Were you hurt too? Is that why..." her fingers left his hand to trace his thin, pale face.
"Shhh. Relax. I'm fine. Not a scratch I promise you. Hey, your mom and dad are here. Want to see them? They're right outside," he sought to divert her.
"Must've been bad if they're here too," she tried to smile, drowsiness already drawing her back into its embrace. "You need to shave," she mumbled, eyes closing.
Sanika smiled her good morning to one of her colleagues at Prisma, hoping it covered her frazzled nerves. She had worn a full-sleeved navy blue shirt to hide the bandage on her arm. Tan coloured trousers, flat sandals and slim wristwatch completed her attire. Her fauji dada was right beside her, trying his level best not to look out of place in the corporate environment. But one look at him, even a rank stranger would spot him for what he was. Army. The erect posture, not to mention the army hairstyle were a dead giveaway. Added to those was the way he looked at others. Like a sniper searching for his target to lock on and press the trigger, oh so slowly. He was almost as tall as Samar, but not as broad. Since he specialized in hand-to-hand combat, she wasn't worried about that. But it didn't stop her from wishing none of this had ever happened.
"Don't worry about me, I have my tab and newspapers," Saket said, pulling up the chair opposite to hers to park himself. "Do what you gotta do and try to forget that I'm here."
"Easier said than done," she muttered.
"How is your friend Shruti doing? That was her husband on the phone, right?"
Sanika's smile was relieved. "Yeah. She is conscious now. Spoke to him too." Runal's relief and joy had been obvious when he had called her. Your friend is going to be OK Sanika. I'm going home now for some shower and shave. Wife's orders, he'd said laughing. "What were you and Samar talking about just before we left?"
He shrugged. "Just some last-minute instructions."
"What do you think of him?" she asked abruptly.
"Samar?" He asked. She nodded. "Quiet. Intense. Watchful. A warrior who uses his brain and brawn. Can't say much since..."
"He proposed," she said, not looking at her brother, instead choosing to busy herself with her laptop.
Saket leaned forward. "When?"
"Yesterday. Just before you came."
"Did you say yes?"
She scoffed, but the scoff came out strangled. "Of course not."
"Of course not," Saket repeated drily. "But you're thinking about it." When she remained obstinately silent, he leaned back in his chair with a small smile playing on his lips. "Look, I've known you my whole life Choti. You've turned down how many proposals now? Three? Four? And you've never once looked the way you do right now."
"And what way is that?"
"Terrified."
Before she could retort, her phone rang. Samar. She answered, deliberately casual. "Yes?"
"Tell your brother to stay alert. We're following up on the three suspects from the video. I'll update you tonight."
"OK."
"And Sanika?" A pause. "Be careful."
"I'm always careful," she said, and hung up before the warmth in his voice could undo her.
Runal opened the door of his apartment to find Shruti's mother in the kitchen, warming up breakfast. She had been worried sick not only about Shruti but also about Runal. He had been in pieces and no amount of pleading, reasoning, even scolding would make him move away from that ICU.
"I've put a load in the washing machine," she said, folding the dried clothes. "We can leave for the hospital whenever you are ready." She got up and went into the guest bedroom. When she came back, she had something in her hand. "Beta, this was in that hospital cover, along with Shruti's clothes," she said and extended a silver bracelet.
Frowning, Runal took the bracelet. "In the hospital cover?" His mother-in-law nodded. "Maybe the hospital people put someone else's in the cover by mistake."
Maybe. Or... Was it... "Maaji, are you sure this one was in that cover?"
"Yes Runal. The dress was totally ruined so I wanted to throw it away. When I emptied the cover, this one fell out along with her watch and earrings."
"And those were hers?"
"Yes. The earrings you had gifted her for the wedding and the watch, her dad had given her when she got the job. I remember them well. I've kept them both... Runal, what happened?"
Leaving the food half eaten, he got up. "Nothing Maaji. I just need to make a call. We'll leave soon after that." Without another word he took the bracelet and went into his study to call Samar. "Samar? Runal here. Yeah, Shruti is fine. Listen, I'm sending you the picture of a bracelet. It was among Shruti's clothes that she wore on that day. But it's not hers. Her backpack was put in my car before we shifted her into the ambulance so it can't be that she found someone else's and took it with her to return it or whatever. Yes, I'm 200% sure it's not hers. It's a silver bracelet and Shruti is allergic to silver. Yeah. I'm sending it now."
Samar disconnected the call and opened his WhatsApp to check the image. Runal was right, he thought, zooming the picture. Silver bracelet with interconnecting butterflies. Definitely not something a man would wear.
Thoughts raced one after the other. It was not Shruti's and it wasn't a man's. Either Shruti had someone else's bracelet in her hand at the time that she was pushed or... she had grabbed and pulled it from the killer's hand just before she fell. If she was allergic to the metal why have it with her at all? That meant... holy shit!
"Where is Mukund?" he shouted at the whole room.
Mukund grabbed something from the printer and ran up to him. "Fingerprints sir."
Samar snatched the paper and scanned it quickly. The print does not match anyone in the system. However, basing on the epidermal ridge density found in the partial fingerprint left at the scene of crime, it can be concluded with 75% accuracy that it belongs to a female of Indian origin.
"A woman!" he said to himself.
"What?" Salim looked up from his report.
Samar waved the report. "The fingerprint belongs to a woman. And we just found a bracelet in Shruti's belongings that doesn't belong to her. A feminine bracelet."
There was dead silence in the room; then Salim said, "You gotta be kidding!" After being in the police service for so long, pretty much nothing surprised them anymore but this one had come out of nowhere. "You're saying a woman... Ya Khuda!" Salim looked lost for words and Samar knew he was thinking about the way Mira's body had been mutilated. "We excluded the female employees," he said, aghast. "But why would a woman... That video was a pro-woman one."
"We need to go back to the supermarket video footage," Samar muttered, striding towards the video room. He stopped abruptly and whirled towards Salim. "There was a woman from Prisma who helped Sanika. Wrapped her scarf around the wound, held her hand... Fucking son of a bitch I thanked her Salim!"
Salim sidestepped Samar and started the video. "Let's see where she was during the attack."
"Ruhi," Samar got the name out of his memory bank. Mukund, reading his thoughts, ran back to get his laptop. Scrolling through the list from the Prisma database, he found two Ruhis. The first one was over fifty-five, married with two kids. He struck that one off and clicked open the second one. "Ruhi Anuj Sahni. Age, 36, single, works in HR." He looked up. "That's how Mira knew her. That's why she opened the door for her. Ruhi was her colleague. And that's how Ruhi got all the contact information. It was practically at her fingertips. She had spoken to both of them after Mira's death which Sanika found pretty surprising because social niceties were not her thing." He read through the file. "There are several complaints regarding her attitude. Mostly from women. Damn!"
"Samar," Salim called out, his attention already on the screen. Both of them watched the videos from different cameras. They saw Ruhi enter the supermarket, her head swirling this way and that, searching for something. Or someone. "Grey coat with a hood," he noted. Then she disappeared. Only to appear later at the billing counter where Samar had taken Sanika after her attack. There was no jacket though. She must have dumped it in the clothes section, he thought. They watched her grip Sanika's hand and tie the scarf on the injury.
"There, stop," Samar said at the point where he had thanked Ruhi and walked away with Sanika. "Zoom in on her Salim. A little more. There. See that?" Both of them saw Ruhi, head tilted to the side, looking at her hand.
"It's as if she is fascinated by the blood on her hand," Salim observed.
"Sanika's blood."
"And she seems to be in no hurry to clean it off. Damn Rane, this one is crazy in more ways than one."
"Sanika is at Prisma," Samar said, alarm clawing his gut. Both men looked at each other before running towards the jeep, calling out to the rest of their team. Samar took out his phone with one hand while he jabbed the sirens on with the other. He had to reach Sanika. Or Saket.
"Talk is that my boss is quitting," Sanika said, coming back to her seat after a small chat with a few of her colleagues. "What do you guys do when someone quits? Hire a totally new person or promote the one next in line?"
"Depends. Our boss plays musical chairs most of the time," she grinned. "Everyone's role gets changed then and everything is all over the place for a couple of weeks because everyone is new to their role."
"So your role is going to change too?"
"Yeah. If he goes ahead with his resignation then I'll be taking up the role of GM."
"Promotion then," Saket smiled. "That's great Choti!"
"Let's not count the chicks before they hatch dada. And I'm thinking of a job change too. Anyway, let's see..."
She was scrolling through her emails when Saket cleared his throat in a way that she recognised from childhood -- the sound he made when he was about to say something he'd been sitting on for a while. She looked up.
"That cop of yours. Samar." He was doing the thing where he pretended to read his newspaper while actually watching her over the top of it. "You know I ran a background check on him."
"You did what?"
"Don't look at me like that. You're my little sister and some guy moves in next door and starts running with you at 5 AM. Of course I checked." He folded the newspaper with military precision. "IPS, 2012 batch. Psychology MA from Panjab University, BL from Symbiosis. First posting in Mangalore, transferred to Pune Crime Branch three years ago. Decorated twice. One commendation for the Hinjewadi kidnapping case. No complaints, no controversies, no social media presence whatsoever." He paused. "Clean. Too clean, actually. Guys like that either have impeccable character or are very good at hiding things."
"And which do you think he is?"
"The first." He looked at her directly. "I watched him with you, Choti. The way he positions himself -- always between you and the door, always with a clear sightline to the exits. That's not a man being protective of a neighbour. That's a man protecting someone he considers his own."
She stared at her screen, not seeing the words on it. "He told me he loves me."
"I know."
"How do you--" She stopped. "You were listening."
"I was in the next room. Army hearing." He shrugged without apology. "Want my opinion?"
"Not particularly."
"He's a good man. And you're terrified."
"I'm not terrified. I'm cautious. There's a difference."
"There really isn't. Not in your case." He held up a hand before she could argue. "All I'm saying is -- you've been burned three times. That's enough to make anyone gun-shy. But don't let the idiots of the past ruin someone who might be worth the risk."
Sanika opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "Since when did you become a relationship counsellor?"
"Since my little sister started blushing every time her phone rings."
"I do not--" Her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and felt heat climb her cheeks. Saket raised one eyebrow with devastating effect. "Oh, shut up," she muttered, and answered the call.
Afternoon brought a lull. The office settled into its post-lunch drowsiness -- keyboards clicking slower, conversations muted, the air conditioning humming its steady white noise. Saket had positioned himself in the chair opposite Sanika's cubicle, close enough to intervene but far enough not to hover. He had a gift for stillness, her brother. He could sit in one place for hours without fidgeting, his eyes alert even when his body was relaxed. It came from years of border postings, she knew -- those long nights in forward bunkers where the difference between life and death was whether you noticed the shadow moving against the treeline.
"Sanika?"
Sanika found Ruhi standing beside her cubicle, twisting the handle of her handbag, looking more than a little agitated. In the last few days, especially after the way Ruhi had helped her out the previous evening, Sanika's opinion of her had started to change a little. Soften a bit. "Hey Ruhi. Everything OK?"
"Yeah, I mean... Can you come with me to the restroom please?" She darted a quick look at Saket. "I... I need some help."
Sanika studied her for a moment. Ruhi's face was flushed, her eyes darting between Sanika and the corridor. Her fingers were white-knuckled around the handbag strap. She looked like a woman on the verge of tears. Or something else that Sanika couldn't quite identify.
"What kind of help?" Sanika asked, not unkindly.
"It's... personal. I can't talk about it here." Ruhi's voice dropped to a whisper. "Please. It'll only take a minute."
Something about the request nagged at Sanika. Ruhi had never sought her out for anything personal before. They weren't friends. They were barely acquaintances who'd been forced into proximity by circumstance. But the desperation in Ruhi's eyes was convincing, and Sanika had always been the kind of person who couldn't turn away from someone asking for help. It was both her greatest strength and, as she was about to discover, her most dangerous vulnerability.
"Sure," Sanika agreed although she was confused. What kind of help did this woman need that she wanted her to come to the restroom along with her? Female problem? Shrugging, she got up to follow her. Seeing her dada fall into step beside her, she stopped. "We're going to the restroom," she muttered. "You can't come in there."
He merely shrugged. Then eyeing both women, he backed off a little. "I'll wait in the corridor."
"Yeah, you do that."
Saket watched them walk away -- his sister with her characteristic confident stride, the other woman moving with quick, jerky steps like a bird that had spotted a cat. Something about the way the woman held her handbag bothered him. She was clutching it against her body, angled away from Sanika, as if protecting its contents from view. He filed the observation away and settled into the corridor chair.
With a small wave and a wink, Sanika went with Ruhi while Saket sat in one of the chairs in the corridor with a crossword puzzle. He had solved the third one when he heard a few women grumbling about the locked restroom door but ignored it until it struck him that the restrooms in corporate offices resembled those in a mall. A hall with washbasins and mirrors and cubicles with doors. His train of thought scattered when his phone rang.
"Yes Samar?"
"Where is Sanika?"
"In the restroom. Why?"
Samar's breath sighed out in relief. "Listen. The attacker is a woman. Her name is Ruhi and she works in the HR. I'm on my way..."
Saket shot out of his chair. "Sanika just went into the restroom along with a girl named Ruhi."
End of Chapter Thirteen.
© 2025 Atharva Inamdar. Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. Free to read and share with attribution.