WebNovels

Chapter 18 - Chapter 17

After 1 year and 6 months —

Raj is now one year old. He can speak a few words, walk around, and scribble endlessly with a patience that surprises me. This morning, he's seated at the dining table, surrounded by open books, a pencil clutched in his tiny hand as he scratches random shapes into his notebook. I have no idea what he's writing, but watching him makes me smile.

Usually, Jen handles the house chores, but she couldn't come today — so it's my turn. I sweep the floor, tidy the shelves, and keep glancing at Raj to make sure he's safe. If Vaishank finds out I'm doing housework, he'll definitely get mad at me for not resting. The thought alone makes me smile. I can already imagine his face — half worried, half annoyed, all love.

I finish tidying the table and move to the bookcase. Sometimes, it actually feels good to keep myself busy. The quiet rhythm of cleaning, the scent of floor cleaner, the soft hum of the TV — it all feels like a calm morning. Raj's laughter breaks the silence as he shifts to the floor, playing with his toys, his little feet wobbling as he walks.

We always keep the balcony locked since he was born — it's one thing Vaishank never compromises on. He only opens it sometimes to feel the breeze before locking it back.

I reach for the fan switch. The next second—

"Ahh!"

A sharp jolt shoots through my hand. I jump back, clutching my fingers as they sting from the small electric shock. Panting softly, I glare at the switch. "Seriously? You had to do this now?" I mutter under my breath.

"Mama!"

Raj's sudden cry makes me turn instantly. My heart races as I rush to him.

"What happened, baby?"

He shows me his broken toy, eyes filling with tears like he's just lost his best friend.

"Oh no… it's okay, Raj," I whisper, hugging him close. "Mama will buy you a new one."

He sniffles, and I quickly hand him a ball. Just like that, his tears vanish, replaced by giggles. He starts kicking the ball around the room, his laughter echoing against the walls. I smile, watching him — my whole world running around in a diaper and messy hair.

"Very soon, Vaishank will be home," I murmur to myself, excitement fluttering in my chest. I head to the kitchen, slicing vegetables and stirring the pot as the house fills with sounds — Raj's playful chaos, the TV, and the rhythmic sound of my knife hitting the cutting board.

My phone rings. Glancing at the screen, I can't help but smile.

Sudesh.

"Hello, Sudesh," I answer softly, my smile lingering.

---

One week later—

I'm in a panic. My hands tremble as I search through every corner of the bedroom — drawers pulled out, cabinets half-open. Something important is missing. I rush into Raj's room, scanning every inch.

This room — the one me and Vaishank decorated together, dreaming of Raj growing up here someday, maybe at age nine when he'd finally want his own space. The thought flashes painfully as I continue searching.

Then —

Thud.

A loud crash echoes through the house. My breath stops.

The sound of breaking glass.

"Raj?" My voice trembles as dread rises in my chest.

I run out of the room. The living room is empty — my eyes immediately dart to the balcony.

The door is open.

"No…"

A chill grips my spine. My feet move before my brain does. I slip slightly — there's oil on the floor. My heart pounds against my ribs as I force myself to the balcony.

And then —

My world stops.

Raj — my baby — lies on top of a car roof below, motionless. Blood stains the metal, his tiny body twisted unnaturally.

"Raj!" My scream rips through the air as tears blur my vision. People gather below, voices shouting, but I can't hear them. All I see is my baby.

My hands tremble as I grab the balcony rail, ready to climb over, to get to him somehow —

"Amrita, what are you doing?"

A strong hand grabs my arm.

I turn — it's Vaishank. His face is pale, eyes wide in horror.

"Vaishank… our son—he fell…" My voice breaks, the words tearing through my throat.

He looks down — and freezes.

From below, a guard shouts, "Is this your baby?"

Vaishank drops to his knees, his hand clutching the balcony rail. Tears spill down his face.

My body collapses beside him. "I killed my son…"

He pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly as his own tears fall. Neither of us can speak — we're just two broken souls clinging to each other.

After a moment, his trembling voice whispers, "Let's go see him."

We rush down the stairs — my legs barely moving, my heart screaming.

When I reach the ground floor, my knees give out. Raj's small body lies there — bloody, lifeless.

The baby I carried with love.

The child I sang to sleep.

The laughter that once filled our home — now gone.

"Raj!" I scream again, my voice cracking as I fall beside him. Vaishank kneels too, crying silently, his hand on Raj's tiny chest as if willing his heart to beat again.

Around us, people murmur, but the world has already gone silent.

I can't breathe.

I can't move.

I've lost my baby.

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