I hesitate, not because I don’t want to respect her words, but because the thought of leaving her right now twists something inside me. But I’m also aware that I need to give her space. She’s already fighting too many demons. She doesn’t need to fight me too.
“Of course,” I say, pushing myself up from the chair even though every part of me wants to stay.
She turns her face away, her way of telling me she doesn’t need me.
Not wanting to push, I walk to the door without a backward glance.
Fuck. Life sure as hell is twisted. I’ve spent my life staying detached, especially never getting personally attached to a case. But now it feels like… she’s wrecked all that resolve without even trying.
Chapter 3
Nisha
“Everything looks good,” Dr. Sia says with a reassuring smile, jotting something down in my file before glancing up. “I’ll go ahead and sign your discharge papers now. But you’ll need to continue physiotherapy for a while, and come in for a follow-up visit next week. Of course, if you feel unwell or notice anything unusual before that, don’t hesitate to come in sooner.”
“I will do that,” I agree quietly.
Right then, the door creaks open, and my breath catches the moment I see Kavya. I knew that seeing my sister again would stir up a wave of emotion, but this... this feels different. Sure, I’d caught a glimpse of her when I first opened my eyes at the house, but back then, the fear, the sheer terror of Prakash being in the same room was so overwhelming that I couldn’t even fully register her presence.
But now that I’m actually in a clearer state of mind, there’s something heartbreakingly emotional about seeing her.
She walks in slowly, as if she’s afraid I might disappear if she moves too fast. Her tear-rimmed eyes stay locked on mine.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Dr. Sia offers a kind smile before quietly slipping out of the room.
Kavya freezes a few feet from my bed, saying nothing. She just stares at me. And before I can even find the words to speak, she closes the distance between us and throws her arms around me.
“I still can’t believe you’ve opened your eyes,” she chokes out, her voice cracking. “I… I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this day.”
My arms move on instinct, weakly wrapping around her, and I feel her warm, desperate tears soak through my hospital gown.
“I missed you so much,” I whisper, a lump forming in my throat.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, cupping my face in both hands just the same way she used to when we were little and I would be upset over broken crayons and playground fights.
“You scared me,” she says with a watery smile. “You scared the hell out of me.”
She sits carefully on the edge of my bed, her eyes never leaving mine. “I lost count of how many times I sat by your side just talking to you, even when you couldn’t respond. I would tell you everything about my day, every silly little thing, hoping you’d hear me.” Her voice wavers, cracking slightly. “I begged you to come back, Nisha. Over and over again.”
She pauses, swallowing hard. “Some days, I truly believed you could hear me. But on others…” her words falter as she looks down, her lashes wet with tears, “it felt like I was losing you, bit by bit.”
“I did,” I whisper. “I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, but sometimes I could feel your hand in mine. I could hear your voice. It kept me going.”
Her eyes meet mine, and her face crumples as fresh tears spill down. She pulls me into another hug, tighter this time, clinging like she needs to feel I’m really here.
“Congratulations, Mommy,” I murmur softly, trying to lighten the mood, a small smile tugging at my lips.
Kavya pulls back, her eyes widening a little in surprise. “You know?”
I nod. “Sunita Aunty told me, and I can’t tell you how happy I’m. I really needed something good to hear, and your news… it gave me that.”
Her expression melts, and for the first time since she walked in, her smile reaches her eyes. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it gently. “I wanted to tell you myself, but the doctors wouldn’t let me see you sooner.”
“I get it. And it doesn’t matter who gave me the news,” I say, my fingers gently brushing hers. “The happiness is still the same.”
Kavya’s eyes well up again, but this time it’s different, softer, lighter. “You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that. And now, knowing you’re here, seeing that you’re okay… it feels like everything’s finally going to be alright.”
“We lost Mom and Dad,” the words tremble out of me as my throat tightens with guilt. I want to tell her everything. I want to just say it, the whole truth about Prakash. About what I let into my life. About how it all spiralled out of control, how it got ugly, and how it shattered everything we once had.
