Then—I hear a thud near me. My eyes fly open. And the world shatters. Aryan is on his knees. Right in front of me. His hand pressed to his stomach. Blood. So much blood. It spreads through his shirt, dark and wet, seeping through his fingers like it doesn’t know how to stop.
“No—” The sound tears out of me before I can stop it.
“No!” Everything else disappears.
Krishna.
My father.
The room.
All of it fades into nothing.
There is only him. Only Aryan. He looks up at me. And he smiles. He’s bleeding. He’s on his knees. And he’s smiling. “You’re okay,” he says, like that’s the only thing that matters.
Like nothing else exists.
My chest caves in.
“No, no, no—” I choke out, trying to move, trying to get to him, but the man behind me tightens his grip, his arm locking around me again.
“Let me go!” I scream, thrashing against him. “Let me go!”
He doesn’t. Aryan shifts, trying to stand. He can’t. His body gives, dropping back down, a sharp breath escaping him as pain cuts through him.
And then—The man holding me kicks him. Right where he’s hurt. The sound that leaves Aryan’s mouth—It destroys something inside me. “Stop!” I scream, my voice breaking completely. “Stop, please!”
I can’t reach him. I can’t touch him. I can’t do anything.
This can’t be how it ends. Not like this. Not when I finally—“I love you.” His voice is softer now but I can hear the strain in his voice. “I probably fell in love with you…when you so boldly insulted me the first time,” he adds, a weak laugh escaping him that turns into a wince.
My vision blurs completely. “Don’t—” I sob, shaking my head violently. “Don’t talk like that—please—”
“Please don’t leave me,” I beg, the words tearing out of me, raw and desperate. “Aryan, please—”
Two more gunshots ring out behind me. The grip around me loosens. The man holding me collapses, his weight dropping away. I don’t wait. I run. I drop to my knees in front of Aryan, my hands immediately going to him, pressing against his wound without thinking, trying to stop the blood, trying to fix something I don’t know how to fix. He gasps. “Hey—hey—easy,” he murmurs, like he’s comforting me. Like he’s not the one bleeding out in front of me. I hate him for that. I love him for that. I press harder. My hands shake.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, even though I don’t. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re fine—you’re fine—”
He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me. But he wants to. Behind him, my father appears. “Get up, son,” he says, crouching beside him, his voice urgent but controlled.
Aryan tries but fails badly. His body trembles, giving out under him. I look up at my father and everything crashes together at once. I feel all the emotions together. Anger. Pain. Confusion.
And something I never thought I’d feel again—Hope.
“Please,” I whisper. My voice breaks completely. “I have never…gotten anything I asked for,” I say, the words falling apart as they leave me. Tears stream down my face, blurring everything. “If you are going to give me one thing…in this lifetime…” My hands tighten on Aryan, like I can hold him here, like I can keep him from slipping away. “Save him.”
My voice cracks. “Please.”
For the first time—I am not asking for answers. I am not asking for the past. I am not asking for anything except this. Him. Just him. And I don’t think I have ever been more afraid of not being heard.
CHAPTER 61
ISHIKA
The hospital smells like antiseptic and something else I can’t name—something sharp and hollow that settles in your chest and refuses to leave.
I didn’t know silence could be this loud.
