The angle of this video suggested the camera was set on the top shelf of the library. My eyes flickered to it. A small, gleaming lens stared back. It wasn’t obvious; you wouldn’t even see it if you weren’t looking for it.
He skipped forward to seven thirty, when we arrived, then fast-forwarded.
For a long time, nothing happened.
Then, a movement.
Harish uncle paused the video, went back and replayed it.
The door opened slowly, and Rekha stepped in, closing it softly behind her. She rifled through the drawers and the file cabinet, glancing at the door every few seconds.
Then she pulled out a familiar navy folder titled ‘New Line Proposal’. It wasn’t clearly visible in the video, but I recognised that file. She skimmed through the dossier, lingering briefly on a few pages before she snapped it shut and put it in her purse.
I staggered back a step, my back hitting the wall. I slumped against it.
Harish uncle didn’t do it.
Ananya didn’t do it.
‘Midway through dinner, she had gotten up to use the restroom and had been gone a while. I think that’s when she did it.’
My vision blurred. Both of them were being honest.
I’d been so sure. And I’d been wrong about it all.
‘I … I’m sorry.’ The words scraped out of me. ‘I never should have doubted you.’
‘No.’ His voice was restrained, but landed heavily. ‘You shouldn’t have.’
My guilt amplified. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. ‘I just ...’ I stopped. Started again. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry, uncle.’
He was silent for a moment. Then stood and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘It’s okay. Let’s put this behind us.’
I looked at the floor.
Fifteen minutes ago, I’d stood right here, looked him in the eye and accused him. After Dadaji, he was the only one who truly cared about me unconditionally, without a motive, without waiting to see what I’d amount to first.
And I had …
Shame sat low and heavy, refusing words.
‘This is what matters more now, Jai,’ he said, pointing at his computer screen. ‘This is absurd. Why would she even do this? What could she possibly get out of this?’ His voice was sharper now, the softness gone.
I forced my eyes up. My gaze slid to the screen.
It was a still of Rekha zipping up her purse.
He was right. Again.
The video replayed in my mind.
Rekha sneakily entering the office. Searching for the file. Slipping it in her purse.
My heart constricted for a different reason. The woman I’d called mom all my life did this to me.
She’d never truly been my mother. Only Ayaan’s.
‘I’m very excited to show you, Dad. You’re going to love it.’
