Chapter 13
Kavya
“Miss Kavya Grewal.”
My feet come to a sudden halt at the sound of that voice. My heart races as my eyes lock onto a man who brings back the haunting memories of the accident that nearly shattered my world, and I almost lost everything. There he stands, just outside my office door, waiting for me.
“Officer Viraj Shetty,” I say with a small, hesitant smile , taking a careful step toward him. He’s the same middle-aged police inspector who handled my parents’ accident case . Seeing him again after nearly a year, I take in a moment to study him, noting how he hasn’t changed at all. His sturdy build, short dark hair neatly parted to the side, those striking light brown eyes that stand out against his warm tan skin —he’s exactly as I remember.
“I know this is an unexpected visit, but I was hoping if we could have a word in private,” he says, nodding toward my office door.
Nodding, I push open the door to my office and hold it for him as he steps inside. After closing it behind us, I guide him toward my desk . I take my seat behind my desk while he settles into the chair opposite me. He straightens himself and places the brown file he’s carrying on my table. Lost in my past memories, I didn’t even pay realise he was carrying something with him. My mind races, wondering what brought him here and what could be inside that file, but I try to keep my curiosity in check .
“Can I get you something to drink? Tea or coffee?” I ask, trying to mask my anxiety with a polite smile.
“No, I’m good,” he replies, shaking his head. His gaze softens as it meets mine, filled with concern . “How is your sister doing?” he asks quietly, and I feel tears sting the back of my eyes as I reply.
“She’s still the same… since the accident.”
“I’m so sorry, Kavya,” he murmurs , and I nod in response, noting a shadow of guilt darken his eyes. It’s so brief that it makes my eyebrows furrow in confusion .
“Everything alright, Officer?” I ask , trying to read the sudden shift in his expression.
He takes a deep breath and speaks. “Kavya, there’s something about your parents’ accident that you don’t know. Something important. ”
I blink at him, his words capturing my complete attention. What is it that he wants to discuss about my parents’ accident almost a year later? The case seemed clear-cut, with the truck driver caught—it was an open and shut case of a road accident.
“What about it?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.
“It wasn’t an accident,” he blurts out, and an electric jolt surges through me. I sit up straighter, my pulse quickening as my mind spirals, scrambling to process what I’ve just heard. Did I hear him correctly?
“What?” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I notice the sadness lingering around the edges of his eyes, confirming I didn’t hear him wrong.
“I know this may be hard to hear, but I believe your parents’ death wasn’t an accident. There’s someone behind it.”
My eyes widen, and my breath catches in my throat. With trembling hands, I clutch the edge of the table, feeling the room tilt around me .
“Som… someone deliberately did it to kill my parents?” I stutter, fear, shock, and confusion all clouding me.
“I’m afraid so, yes,” he confirms, his tone sombre.
Closing my eyes briefly, I blink them open and ask, “Officer, none of this makes sense. Why would anyone want to harm my parents? They were simple, middle-class people who never harmed anyone. I’m sure there’s been some mistake —s ome misunderstanding.”
“There’s no misunderstanding here ,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “ I was the one who had reviewed the case files then and found that something didn’t add up. The forensic evidence indicated that the brakes of your parents’ car were tampered with, and the truck driver who caused the accident confessed that he was paid for it. I even suggested investigating the case further, because my gut pointed it to foul play, screaming that it was something deeper than what met the eye. However, when I received calls from higher management pressuring me to shut the case down, I had no choice but to close the case.”
My heart skips a beat as I process his words, feeling anger and panic bubbling within me.
“Why the hell would you do that? Why didn’t you fight harder to find the truth? Why didn’t you continue to investigate it properly until you found the culprit? And why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” My voice quivers with rage as I demand answers.
He lowers his gaze , his expression filled with remorse. “I understand your frustration, Kavya. But you also have to understand, there were pressures from higher-ups that I couldn’t ignore. It’s not an excuse, but sometimes in our line of work, we’re forced to make difficult decisions.”
My eyes brim with tears, and a lump forms in my throat as I struggle to contain my emotions. “Difficult decisions? You call abandoning the search for justice a difficult decision?”
He sighs and looks up, meeting my gaze. “I know it’s not easy to accept, and I agree I am at fault,” he says with a heavy heart. “I totally get it, that being a cop, it was my duty to uphold the truth. But I had my hands tied, Kavya. And you should know the cold, hard fact that we live in a country where truth often holds no value and can be buried under heavy corruption and money. I had a family to support, and I had to think practically—I couldn’t afford to lose my job,” he says, his words filled with regret.
“Fine, I get it. Your hands were tied,” I concede. “But why now? Why bother telling me all this now?” My voice wavers, betraying a hint of hurt as everything hits me at once — someone out there harmed my family and is out there, moving freely, and the cops didn’t do their duty; instead, chose to protect the criminals.
“Believe it or not, my conscience didn’t let me rest in peace since then,” he confesses. “ I wanted to come to you many times, but I didn’t have the courage . Then, yesterday, when I was at home, my thirteen-year-old daughter came home from school upset, complaining about how her teacher didn’t punish the rich boy in the class who had been bullying her. Instead, the teacher told her to stop complaining. It pricked my heart, thinking about how it feels when you don’t get the justice you deserve, and no one hears your voice.” He pauses before continuing. “Later in the night, when I confessed to my wife about your case, she pushed me to help you and told me how wrong I was.” He then locks eyes with me. “I promise you, Kavya, I won’t give up on the case this time. I’ll investigate on my own if I have to , even if it means going against orders. You deserve to know the truth, and I’ll do everything in my power to uncover it,” he states, his voice steady and determined.
My heart flips in my chest at his words. With teary eyes, I nod at him, my anger giving way to a glimmer of hope. “Please, Officer. Don’t let this slip away again . My parents, my sister… they deserve justice, and so do I.”
He nods. “I won’t rest until I bring those responsible to justice, Kavya. I owe it to you and your family. But before I go, can you tell me if there’s anyone that you suspect? Anyone at all? ”
I shake my head and take a moment to think. “No one. I still don’t believe why anyone would want to harm my family.”
“I am not sure either, but as I told you, I am here to help you find answers. I promise I will get to the bottom of this,” he reassures me.
I nod at him, but my mind is still struggling to wrap my head around it all. “ Thanks, Officer. But I do have one question .”
“ Go ahead. ”
“ If the truck driver confessed that he was paid to cause the accident, why not just ask him directly who hired him ?” I question.
“The truck driver said he didn’t know the guy’s name. He just got a call from an unknown number and was told to do the job. The cash was dropped at his house with no trace of the person behind it .”
“Could the culprit be someone wealthy… some powerful?” I ask, feeling a sudden tightness in my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
He runs a hand over his tired face. “I wish I could give you a clear answer, Kavya. All I can say is I am determined to make things right, and I’ll do everything in my power to bring you the closure you deserve .”
“Thank you so much. It means the world to me, and I promise I’ll help in any way I can .”
“I sure can use your help,” he says, sliding the file across the table toward me. “Inside, I’ve compiled everything I’ve found so far, including call records from your parents and your sister . Take a look and let me know if anything stands out.”
I stare at the file, then back at him. “Absolutely. I’ll give it my full attention and let you know if I find anything relevant.”
He reaches into his pant pocket, retrieves his wallet and extracts a card, laying it atop the file. “Here’s my number. Call me if anything comes up. And let’s keep this between us for now. We can’t risk tipping off the culprit,” he adds, and I nod in agreement. “I’ll take your leave, but I’ll stay in touch,” he says as he rises from his seat. I follow suit, my mind still racing.
“Thanks again, Officer, for your support.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me. I am just doing what I should’ve done earlier,” he says with a gentle smile. I nod silently as I watch him walk out of my office.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I collapse back into my chair , unable to function from shock, as I stare at the file. Someone tried to kill my parents? Fear grips my heart, and confusion clouds my thoughts. Why? Why would anyone want to harm them? My mind races with questions, but I can’t find any answers.
I am lost in the turmoil of my thoughts when my phone rings on the desk. Looking down, I see Reyansh’s name flashing on the screen, but I can’t bring myself to answer it, so I let it go unanswered. I am just not in the right frame of mind to talk to anyone right now. All I can focus on is the overwhelming need to make sense of this nightmare.
Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly jolt, my hand flying to my chest, when the door to my office swings open , startling me.
“What’s wrong?” Reyansh’s voice cuts through the silence as he strides into the office, his expression a mix of concern and frustration . It’s only then I realise how long I’ve been sitting here, lost in my own world, unaware of time slipping away .
“You scared me,” I mumble , hoping to keep the tremor out of my voice, unwilling to let him see the fear that grips me.
“I’ve been calling you for over an hour. You didn’t answer. I was worried,” Reyansh says as he stands in front of my desk, leaning toward me with his hands firmly on the desk, his eyes searching mine.
“It must have been on silent. I got so caught up with work that I didn’t check my phone,” I lie, hiding my nervousness. My pulse quickens when his gaze drifts to the file and the card on my desk. Panicking, I grab the file with trembling hands and shove it into my bag before he can ask anything more.
Reyansh raises his eyebrows. “What’s in that file?”
“Nothing,” I respond quickly, but his sceptical expression says it all. He doesn’t believe me. Sensing the need for a quick escape, I force a smile and quickly change the topic. “How about we go for a coffee? I could use a break. ”
He stares at me for a couple of seconds, clearly unconvinced, but to my surprise, he doesn’t call off my bluff. Instead, he simply says, “ Alright, let’s go.”
I let out a silent breath of relief as I grab my purse and rise to my feet, all the while making an effort to keep myself calm. With his hand gently resting on my back, we walk out of the office together.
Guilt gnaws at me for hiding the truth from him, but I know I have to—for now.