Agraja’s heart pounded as she walked through the dimly lit corridor of the police station. The cold, suffocating silence felt heavier with each step she took toward Vivek.
She had managed to get permission to meet him—not as a sister, but as an intern investigating the case. But in this moment, she was nothing but a sister fighting for her brother’s innocence.
The constable unlocked the cell, and as soon as Agraja stepped inside, Vivek looked up.
His face was pale, his eyes dark with exhaustion. He hadn’t slept. The weight of the world had crushed him in a matter of hours. But despite the situation, he smiled softly at his sister.
“Agraja” His voice was hoarse.
Agraja took a deep breath, stepping closer. "Main sach jaanne aayi hoon, bhai."
Vivek’s jaw tightened. "Tujhe toh already pata hai ki maine kuch nahi kiya."
"Kisiko farq nahi padta main kya sochti hoon, bhai. Mujhe sach chahiye. Sab kuch. Bina kisi jhooth ke."
Vivek ran a hand down his face, exhausted. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had finally settled on them.
"Seher..." He whispered, then stopped himself.
Agraja’s eyes narrowed. "Seher? Kon seher ?"
Vivek immediately shook his head. "Nahi... kuch nahi."
Agraja took a deep breath. She could sense hesitation, guilt, and fear in his voice.
"Bhai, main aapko bahar nikalke rahungi. Mujhe sirf sach batao. Jo bhi hua, sab kuch batao."
Vivek looked away, as if debating whether to say anything. Then, after a long pause, he met her gaze.
"Maine Sparsh ko mara nahi, Agraja... lekin jab maine use dekha, vo already mar chuka tha." His voice cracked.
Vivek hesitated. His lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he closed his mouth, his eyes darting away.
Agraja could feel it—he was hiding something.
"Vivek bhai, please... mujhe sach batao," she pleaded, her voice breaking for the first time. "Main aapki behen hoon. Par agar aap kuch nahi bologe, toh main aapki CBI officer bhi ho sakti hoon."
Vivek’s eyes softened at her words, but he still shook his head. "Agraja...mujhe nhi pata mai use kyu bachana chahta hu...lekin voh vaha thi. Seher vaha thi...but I am damn sure she is innocent. "
Agraja stiffened. "Kon hai ye Seher , aur aap kyu use bachana chahte hai ,bhai?"
Vivek didn’t answer.
Agraja stepped back, wiping the lone tear that threatened to escape her eye.
"Theek hai," she whispered. "Main sach khud dhoondh loongi."
And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out—her faith unshaken, but her heart heavier than ever.
•~•~•~•
Agraja stood in front of the apartment door, staring at the nameplate—Seher Shekhawat.
She had never met this girl before. Never even heard of her. Yet, her brother was risking everything to protect her. Why?
Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell.
A few seconds later, the door opened just enough for a girl to peek out. She looked cautious, tired, and… scared.
"Seher?" Agraja asked.
The girl hesitated before opening the door fully. "Aap…?"
"Agraja Singh Chauhan. Vivek ki behen."
At the mention of Vivek’s name, Seher's expression shifted from caution to surprise.
"Aap andar aaiye," she said quickly, stepping aside.
Agraja walked in, scanning the small but neat apartment. A few books on the table, a cup of unfinished coffee—signs that Seher hadn’t been at peace for a while.
Seher shut the door and turned to face her. "Vivek sir kaise hai?" she asked immediately, concern lacing her voice.
Agraja folded her arms. "Tumne suna nahi? Unpe Sparsh Randhawa ke murder ka ilzaam hai."
Seher flinched at the directness of her tone. "Mujhe pata hai… lekin woh aise aadmi nahi hai. Mujhe yakeen nahi ho raha."
Agraja sighed, her frustration bubbling under the surface. "Mujhe bhi nahi ho raha. Isliye main yahan hoon."
Seher looked at her, confused. "Matlab?"
Agraja took a step forward, her voice firm. "Mujhe sach jaanna hai, Seher. Bhai tumhe kyun bacha rahe hain?"
Seher’s brows furrowed. "Bachana? Nahi, aisa kuch nahi hai. Maine kuch galat nahi kiya."
"Toh phir jab police aayi, toh Vivek bhai ne tumhe wahan se bhagne ke liye kyun kaha?"
Seher opened her mouth but then shut it, clearly at a loss.
"Mujhe nahi pata," she whispered after a moment. "Main bas… wahan thi. Maine sirf dekha ki Sparsh bhai ki body wahan thi. Aur uske baad sab itna jaldi ho gaya ki mujhe samajh nahi aaya."
Agraja watched her carefully. She wasn’t lying.
"Phir bhi bhai tumhe protect kyun kar rahe hain?" Agraja asked, more to herself than to Seher.
Seher lowered her gaze. "Main bas unki assistant hoon. Unhone mere liye aisa kyun kiya, mujhe nahi pata."
Agraja studied her for a long moment before sighing. She wasn’t going to get answers from Seher. Not because she was hiding something, but because she genuinely didn’t know.
•~•~•~•
Few days later :
Akarsh stood outside the interrogation room, his fingers tapping restlessly against his folded arms. The entire CBI unit was on high alert, but he felt an unfamiliar frustration clawing at his chest.
He had seen crime scenes before. He had solved murder cases before. But this? This was his own brother.
He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Inside, Vivek sat with his hands cuffed to the table, his face calm—too calm.
"Toh batao, Chauhan," Akarsh said coldly, stepping inside. "Tumhe kisne bheja tha mere bhai ko maarne?"
Vivek looked up, his face unreadable. "I have told you earlier as well , Mujhe nahi pata Sparsh Randhawa wahan kaise aaye."
"Jhooth." Akarsh pulled out a chair and sat across from him. "Tum wahan mile the. Tumhare alawa koi aur nahi tha wahan."
Vivek sighed. "Mujhe bhi nahi pata. Main sirf store room gaya tha file lene, aur dekha ki unki body wahan thi."
Akarsh narrowed his eyes. "Aur tumne turant bhag kar Seher ko wahan se bhaagne ke liye kyun kaha?"
Vivek hesitated, his jaw tightening.
"Mujhe laga ki uska naam isme nahi aana chahiye," he finally said.
Akarsh slammed a file on the table, making Vivek flinch. "Matlab tum jaante ho ki ye sab uske aas paas ho raha tha? Tumhe pata hai ki asli mujrim kaun hai?"
Vivek shook his head. "Agar pata hota toh kya main yahan baitha hota?"
Akarsh exhaled sharply. He studied Vivek’s body language—no nervous fidgeting, no avoiding eye contact. Either he was an expert liar or he was genuinely telling the truth.
Still, Akarsh wasn’t ready to believe him.
"Theek hai," he said, standing up. "Agar tum sach bol rahe ho, toh ye batao ki tum wahan kaise pahunche? Tumhe kisne bulaya?"
Vivek’s expression shifted slightly, like he was choosing his words carefully. "Mujhe ek anonymous message aaya tha ek file collect karne ke liye."
Akarsh's grip tightened on the file. Anonymous message? Someone had set this up.
"Aur tumhe sachme nahi pata ki kisne kiya?"
Vivek shook his head. "Agar pata hota, toh main tumse pehle uska murder kar chuka hota."
Akarsh didn't react. He just turned and walked out.
As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he pulled out his phone and dialed.
"Rohit, find out where this message came from. Jo bhi Sparsh ko store room tak laya, woh yahi insaan hai."
There was a pause on the other end before his junior officer replied, "Sir, ek aur cheez mili hai. Sparsh sir ki last call records me ek ajeeb number hai—private line. Aur ek aur baat…"
Akarsh stiffened. "Bolo."
"Woh jo company ka CCTV hai na… uska footage delete kiya gaya hai."
Silence.
Akarsh closed his eyes for a second, inhaling deeply. This wasn’t just a murder anymore.
This was planned.
And someone with power was involved.
•~•~•~•
Akarsh paced his office, his mind racing. The missing CCTV footage. The anonymous message. Sparsh’s last call to a private number.
Someone was covering their tracks well.
He glanced at Agraja, who sat across from him, her eyes burning with determination. She had just returned from her meeting with Seher, and the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place.
“Seher ne dekha tha, Vivek bhai ne nahi,” Agraja repeated, her voice laced with frustration. “Matlab kisi aur ne Sparsh Randhawa ko maara hai.”
Akarsh’s fingers tapped against his desk as he processed everything. “Humein pata lagana hoga ki woh anonymous message kahan se aaya.”
Just then, his phone buzzed. It was Rohit. “Sir, private line track ho gayi hai,” he said, his voice tense. “Aur jo number hai... woh humare CBI intern Adhvay ka nikla.”
Akarsh’s entire body went rigid. “Kya?”
Agraja’s breath hitched. “Adhvay?”
“Impossible,” she muttered, but the sinking feeling in her chest told her otherwise.
Akarsh grabbed his coat. “Humein abhi usse baat karni hogi. And call Seher Shekhawat for the investigation. Tab tak Adhvay ko dekh ke aate hai."
•~•~•~•
On the other side :
Vivek sat on the cold bench of the jail cell, his hands resting on his knees. His face was calm, but his eyes held an exhaustion that even he couldn't hide. The clang of the main door opening made him look up.
Seher stood there, hesitating.
She clutched a small tiffin in her hands, her fingers tightening around the edges as if debating whether to move forward or turn around and leave.
The dim light of the holding area cast soft shadows on her face, highlighting the worry in her eyes.
Vivek's gaze softened for the first time since his arrest. "Tum yahan?" His voice was low, careful.
Seher exhaled sharply, taking slow steps toward the bars. "Haan... mujhe aana chahiye tha." She hesitated before holding up the tiffin. "Kuch layi hoon... pata nahi jail ka khana kaisa hota hai."
Vivek's lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to smile but couldn't. "Mujhe bhook nahi hai."
"Lekin maine phir bhi banaya hai, mera matlb...maine nahi banaya...mujue aata thodi hai. Bas layi hu aapke liye." she countered, her tone firmer than before.
There was silence between them. A kind of silence filled with things neither of them knew how to say.
Seher finally sighed and placed the tiffin on the floor, sliding it under the bars. "Agar mann kare toh kha lena."
Vivek stared at it for a moment, then at her. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t move to pick it up.
Seher shifted on her feet, watching Vivek quietly. The air inside the holding cell was thick with tension, but she wasn’t the kind of person to let silence win.
“vaise,” she started, leaning slightly against the bars, “maine suna hai jail ki daal itni gandi hoti hai ki ek baar khane ke baad aadmi confession likhne baith jaata hai.”
Vivek arched an eyebrow. “Tumhe kisne bataya?”
Seher grinned. “Ek movie me dekha tha! Bas itni si baat hai ki main toh pehle hi confess kar du agar mujhe woh daal khani padti.”
Vivek shook his head, his lips pressing together as if trying to hide the hint of a smile. But Seher caught it.
“Dekha? Has rahe ho! Matlab mere efforts successful ho rahe hain.” She beamed.
Vivek sighed, looking away, but the exhaustion in his eyes seemed a little lighter now. “Tum yahan mujhe hassane aayi ho?”
“Nahi,” Seher said, pretending to think. “Main toh asal me apni taareef sunne aayi thi. Mujhe sunne ka bada shauk hai ki log mere baare mein kya sochte hain. Aap batao, Vivek sir, main kaise assistant hoon?”
Vivek gave her an unimpressed look. “Tum ek walking-noise machine ho.”
“Arre waah! Yeh toh ekdum naye tareeke ki taarif hai,” Seher giggled. “Matlab main entertaining hoon.”
Vivek exhaled, shaking his head. “Tum paagal ho.”
Seher mock-gasped. “Aapko abhi pata chala? Main toh bachpan se hoon.”
She noticed his fingers relax a little on the tiffin she had brought. A small victory. But then, her expression turned serious. She shifted closer, lowering her voice.
“Vivek sir… aap mujhe kyun bacha rahe ho?”
The question hung in the air between them.
Vivek didn’t answer immediately. He turned the tiffin in his hands, as if searching for words on its lid.
Seher waited. For once, she didn’t fill the silence.
Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. “Kyunki mujhe pata hai tum isme shamil nahi ho.”
Seher frowned. “Lekin… aapko kaise pata?”
Vivek looked up then, meeting her eyes. “Kyunki tum ek walking-noise machine ho, Seher. Tum agar kuch jaanti, toh tum kab ka bol chuki hoti.”
Seher blinked. Then she scowled. “Aapne ek hi line me meri tareef bhi kar di aur insult bhi.”
Vivek’s lips curved slightly. “Mujhe aadat hai.”
Seher crossed her arms, pretending to be offended. “Bas, ab main nahi aane vali yahan. Dekhna, jail ki boring life ka asar hone lagega aap pe.”
Vivek simply looked at her, a soft gratitude hidden in his otherwise tired eyes.
Seher rolled her eyes dramatically. “Fine, fine, main aati rahungi. Par sirf is condition pe ki aap mujhe ye daal-chawal jail ke stories sunayenge.”
Vivek let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Deal.”
For a brief moment, the weight of the world around them faded.
Write a comment ...