Each word struck harder.
“You prayed every day. Naina prayed every day.” His jaw tightened. “And what happened? He died in pain.”
No one moved.
“He suffered for months. Months. While all of you stood in front of that flame asking for mercy.”
His eyes burned now. Dark. Fever-bright.
“And your goddess watched.”
The courtyard shrank around his voice.
“And now Meera…” Her name tore out of him. “My Meera, who has given her life to that place, who talked to that stone as it could hear her, trusted it, who protected every ritual in this Haveli…”
His breath turned uneven.
“She has been missing for six hours. And it sits there doing nothing.”
The words crashed through years of belief carved into those walls.
Naina’s eyes filled at once. Not only for Meera. For her brother. For the grief he had locked inside himself for so long that it had finally torn its way out bleeding.
Sarita moved toward him, hands rising. “Abhinav…”
He turned before she reached him. His fist struck the nearest pillar. The crack rang through the courtyard.
When he pulled back, blood marked the stone.
No one breathed.
Sarita stopped where she was. She understood now. The fear. The exhaustion. The terror of not knowing if the woman he loved lived or lay cold somewhere beyond his reach.
This was not anger anymore. This was her son coming apart.
His phone rang. The sound cut through everything.
He answered immediately, blood streaking across his hand. “Yes.”
The words came through.
Hospital. Unidentified woman. Yellow clothes. He needed to come.
His body betrayed him. A tremor ran through him before he forced it down. He turned toward the temple again. His bloodied hand rose, pointing at the goddess.
“If anything has happened to her…” His voice dropped into a deadly quiet. “I will tear this place down myself.”
The words hung in the air.
“Stone by stone. I will not leave a single lamp burning in this Haveli again.”
He turned and walked out. Anger moved with him.
The gates opened. His car disappeared into the night.
Silence took over Anand Mahal.
The flame continued burning behind the glass as it had through centuries of grief, prayers, and rage.
