Chapter 7
SEVEN
Aadya
TEN MONTHS AGO
“Is that it?” I ask, my voice as flat as I can manage.
“Yeah... that’s all I have for the past year and a half.”
I shift in my wheelchair, wincing as pain shoots down my side. I haven’t been out of this damn contraption in months. Not since Afghanistan.
Coming back to life is harder than anyone ever admits. The mundane hurts more than the blood ever did.
I wasn’t expecting Sahil—my PI—to choose today of all days to deliver the report. A year and a half’s worth of data. All about him.
I’d forgotten I’d even left that job running in the background.
Somewhere between being gutted—literally—and pieced back together, I stopped caring enough to cancel the task.
But Sahil kept collecting, apparently.
Kept watching.
He’d told me Advik never stopped looking. Not for the first six months. He burned through every connection he had, reached every corner he could.
And then... I left.
No closure. No goodbye. Just vanished. And I forgot Sahil was still watching.
Forgot that a full fucking docket would be waiting for me once I came back from the dead.
I hang up without ceremony and stare at the drive.
It’s all here.
Everything that happened in the year and a half I was gone.
The year and a half I spent thinking I wouldn’t survive.
Funny. I did.
I log into the secure server and begin to dig.
The first few notes and images aren’t a surprise. Advik. Searching. Desperate.
He even reached out to Pratham Taneja. The DGP.
Which is laughable—because I outrank that man by a mile.
But of course Pratham wouldn’t have access to me.
Not to Aadya.
Maybe to Greesha Das.
But she died a while ago.
And he would’ve eventually realized that.
I force myself to read every entry. Every attempt.
Every message.
Every step he took to find me.
And every step he didn’t take... toward Rohi. Toward Canada.
A flicker of hope rises in my chest. Weak. Pathetic. I crush it. Hard.
Then I see it.
The wedding preparations.
So, Vikram and Ishika finally tied the knot.
Not surprising. It was only a matter of time.
But what follows? Isn’t so predictable.
Advik and Aarohi.
Reuniting.
There’s a note. A picture.
Them kissing in a parking lot.
My chest tightens, but—absurdly—I chuckle. A small, bitter sound.
Then I scroll further.
They went into a room together. At the farmhouse where the wedding was held.
The photos cut off.
The notes take over.
Thirty minutes, Sahil wrote.
They were inside for thirty minutes.
Afterward, Advik met with Vikram and Ishika.
Then there’s an audio file.
The note attached says only: You’ll want to hear this.
Would I, now?
I hesitate. Then press play.
The recording is staticky but clear enough. Sahil must’ve used a shotgun mic. Persistent bastard.
And then—I hear it.
His voice.
After two years. My breath catches.
I brace myself.
He’s talking about Rohi.
About how he doesn’t want her. I smile.
Then he says it.
“I’m in love with someone else.”
And I giggle.
A full laugh creeps up my throat. Late—but loud.
Then—
“Greesha is dead.”
My smile breaks.
Because yes.
She is.
And still—this manic energy bubbles up inside me.
I laugh. Sharp. Hollow.
He slept with her. And now he’s mourning me.
Now he loves a ghost.
Good for you, Advik.
Good. For. You.