Jealous and Revenge Part -2

The sun had barely risen when Vikram made his way back to the police station, the faint chill of the early morning still clinging to the air. The interrogation room loomed ahead, dimly lit, its sterile walls ready to hold the weight of secrets yet to be revealed. Vikram entered the room, followed closely by Alok, who had been tasked with helping unravel this case.

Raghav sat at the metal table, looking haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hands nervously tapped on the surface before him. Vikram took his seat opposite him, fixing his steady gaze on Raghav.

"Good morning, Raghav," Vikram said, his voice calm but firm. "We need to talk about your sins. Let's be very clear this time."

Raghav's head snapped up, a flicker of pain crossing his face. "I didn't kill him. I didn't kill anyone, especially not my own child!" he exclaimed, his voice hoarse with desperation.

Vikram raised an eyebrow. "Hold on, your child?" He leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you saying? Are you pulling a prank on us?"

Raghav shook his head, rubbing his temples with trembling fingers. "No, sir. It's the truth. Om... Om was my son."

Alok, who had been standing by the door, stepped forward, confused. "What do you mean 'was' your son? No one mentioned you were the father. Why didn't you say this earlier?"

Raghav exhaled heavily, sinking deeper into his chair. "My wife, Phool, and I divorced over a year ago. She got full custody of Om, but the court granted me visitation rights once every three months. Om was my world. I would never... never hurt him."

Vikram studied Raghav closely, the pieces of the puzzle swirling in his mind. "You said Phool got custody. Why did you two divorce?"

Raghav's face darkened with guilt. He hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor. "I was unfaithful," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I had an affair. Phool found out, and it broke her. We couldn't fix it after that. She filed for divorce, and I couldn't stop her."

Vikram let the silence hang for a moment before speaking again, his tone thoughtful. "So, you didn't kill Om?"

Raghav looked up, his eyes wide and pleading. "I swear to God, sir. I didn't kill him. I loved my son. I don't know why Phool is blaming me for this. It's a nightmare I can't wake up from."

Vikram exchanged a glance with Alok, who was standing with his arms crossed, frowning. "Something doesn't add up," Alok said quietly. "Why would Phool blame Raghav if he's innocent? Either she's lying, or there's something bigger going on here."

Vikram nodded. "That's exactly what we need to find out."

Later that day, Vikram and Alok decided to pay a visit to Raghav's new home. The cramped lanes of the neighborhood were a far cry from the quiet streets where he once lived with Phool. They knocked on the door of the small, nondescript house where Raghav now resided with his second wife.

A woman opened the door, her eyes wary. She was in her mid-thirties, with tired lines etched into her face, though her smile was warm and polite. "Yes?" she asked, her voice tentative.

"Good afternoon. We're from the police," Vikram introduced himself, flashing his badge. "We're here to ask you a few questions about Raghav."

The woman's expression shifted slightly, tension creeping into her features. "Is this about... what happened to his son?" she asked softly, stepping back to let them in.

Vikram nodded, following her inside. "You're Priya, correct? You work at a clothing store?"

She nodded, motioning for them to sit. "Yes, I do. I married Raghav a few months ago. He's been broken ever since his divorce, but... he's a good man."

Alok leaned forward. "What do you know about Phool, Raghav's ex-wife?"

Priya's face softened slightly. "Phool was a good woman. She was kind and gentle, the kind of woman who didn't deserve what happened to her marriage. Raghav, well... he wasn't a perfect husband. He made mistakes, and they paid the price for it."

"But was he a good father?" Vikram asked.

Priya's eyes filled with a mix of emotions as she answered, "Yes, he was. Despite everything that happened between him and Phool, Raghav adored his son. He'd talk about Om all the time, about how much he missed him, about the little things they used to do together."

Vikram's mind raced as he absorbed Priya's words. Raghav, by all accounts, seemed like a man broken by his past mistakes, not a cold-blooded murderer. But then why was Phool accusing him of killing their son?

"Did you ever meet Om?" Alok asked, his voice softer now.

Priya shook her head. "No. By the time I married Raghav, he had already lost his visitation rights. The last time he saw Om was months ago, before the murder."

Vikram stood up, his thoughts still circling the case. "Thank you, Priya. You've been helpful."

As they left the house, Alok turned to Vikram, his brow furrowed in confusion. "This is getting more complicated. Raghav's not a saint, but he's no killer either, not from what we've seen. And Priya... she doesn't seem like the kind to cover for a murderer."

Vikram nodded, deep in thought. "Someone's lying. Either Phool's accusations are false, or there's something else we haven't uncovered yet. But we'll find out."

They returned to the station, their minds buzzing with the contradictions and unanswered questions. Vikram knew they were missing something—some crucial piece of information that would unravel the tangled web of this case.

The truth was out there, hiding in plain sight. But who was telling it? And who was spinning a lie? Vikram couldn't shake the feeling that the answers were closer than they realized. He just needed to dig a little deeper.

The air in the station felt heavy with uncertainty as Vikram sat at his desk, poring over the details of the case.

The day had stretched into evening, the sun slowly sinking behind the trees, casting long shadows over the bustling police station. Vikram sat at his desk, weary from the lack of progress. Despite having to release Raghav after 24 hours due to the law, he hadn't let go of the case. The suspicion that Raghav wasn't telling the whole truth gnawed at him.

He sent Murthy to discreetly monitor Raghav's activities, warning him to immediately call the station if anything unusual happened. At the same time, Vikram had placed Constable Kiara outside Phool's house, her task to keep a close eye on the widow, looking for anything out of the ordinary. A week passed with no developments.

It wasn't until one evening that Murthy spotted Raghav outside Phool's house. He looked pale, his face drawn, and his movements were sluggish. Raghav appeared desperate, like a man clinging to the last bit of hope. Murthy's instincts kicked in, and within minutes, Raghav was arrested again.

In the interrogation room, Vikram and Alok stood across from Raghav, who sat slumped in the chair, his head hung low. His hands rested limply on the table, a far cry from the defensive stance he'd taken in their last meeting.

"Raghav, what were you doing at Phool's house?" Vikram asked, his voice cutting through the stillness of the room.

Raghav's eyes were hollow, his voice barely a whisper. "I just wanted to talk to her. I... I thought maybe if we talked, we could clear up the misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" Alok scoffed, folding his arms. "You've been accused of killing your own son, Raghav. What misunderstanding could there possibly be?"

Raghav winced, as though the words physically pained him. "I didn't kill Om. I swear on everything I hold dear, I didn't harm him. Phool... she's wrong. She's hurting, and she's lashing out at me because of our past. I thought if we could just talk, maybe I could convince her that I didn't do it."

Vikram leaned forward, his eyes searching Raghav's face. "And what happened when you saw her?"

Raghav swallowed hard, the memory of the encounter playing across his mind. "She wasn't home. I didn't get to talk to her," he admitted. "I just... I just wanted her to believe me."

Vikram wasn't fully convinced, but there was no clear evidence to hold Raghav. With a heavy sigh, he ordered Murthy to escort him home. "We'll keep an eye on you, Raghav. Don't think for a second that this case is closed."

Murthy nodded to Vikram before guiding Raghav out of the station. The man looked broken, like a shell of the person he had once been. Vikram couldn't shake the feeling that Raghav was hiding something—but he couldn't pin down what it was.

---

Later that evening, Phool was working in the field, the earth beneath her hands offering her some solace in the midst of her grief. The tall stalks of crops swayed gently in the wind, the smell of soil and evening dew heavy in the air. She was unaware of the police surveillance around her, focused only on the task in front of her.

Suddenly, she spotted Raghav walking toward her. His appearance startled her—he looked gaunt, like a man who hadn't slept in days. His eyes were wide with desperation, and his steps were hesitant as if unsure whether he should approach.

Phool straightened, her heart hammering in her chest. She wiped her hands on her saree, her expression hardening.

"Why did you kill my son?" Phool's voice was cold, her eyes filled with accusation.

Raghav stopped in his tracks, his face contorted with disbelief. "Phool, don't be ridiculous! I never killed Om. You're putting false accusations on me," he pleaded, stepping closer to her. "If you want revenge on me for cheating on you, then fine! I deserve it for what I did to our marriage, but don't push this lie any further. Not for the sake of our son. Please!"

Phool's eyes darkened as a bitter smile spread across her face. She let out a hollow, mocking laugh that sent chills down Raghav's spine.

"I don't want your pity, Raghav. I want you to suffer. I will take away every single thing from you that makes you happy. Your son is just the beginning."

Raghav's legs buckled beneath him, and he fell to his knees in the dirt. He looked up at Phool with horror and disbelief, his voice breaking. "You can't mean that. You couldn't... you couldn't kill our son just to get back at me."

Phool's smile widened, the edges of her madness seeping through. She didn't say anything more. With a final glance of contempt, she turned and walked away, leaving Raghav crumpled on the ground.

Murthy, who had been watching from a distance, approached cautiously. His expression was grim as he helped Raghav to his feet.

"She killed him," Raghav whispered, his voice hollow. "I saw it in her eyes, Murthy. She's capable of it."

Murthy frowned, shaking his head. "We can't jump to conclusions without evidence, Raghav. I'll report what I saw, but we need proof before we can do anything."

Raghav looked up at him, his eyes wild with grief. "Proof? She just admitted she wants to take everything from me! That's enough proof!"

Murthy didn't respond, his expression unreadable. He led Raghav away from the fields, unsure of how to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

---

Back at the station, Vikram listened carefully to Murthy's report, his brow furrowed in thought. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but something still didn't sit right with him. Phool's bitterness, Raghav's despair... it all pointed to something darker lurking beneath the surface.

"We can't arrest her without solid evidence," Vikram said, his voice firm. "But we'll keep a closer watch on her. If she's responsible for Om's death, she won't get away with it."

As the night grew darker, Vikram knew this case was far from over. Phool's madness, Raghav's brokenness—there was still a tangled web of lies and grief that needed to be unraveled. The truth, whatever it was, would eventually come to light. But for now, all they could do was wait for the evidence to reveal itself.

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of the police station as Vikram entered the interrogation room, his gaze steady and unyielding. Phool sat there, her hands trembling slightly on the table. Her eyes were wild, darting around the room as if looking for an escape. Across from her, Vikram and Alok exchanged a glance. It was time to confront her directly.

Vikram leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "Phool, we've heard enough from Raghav. We know what you said to him in the field last night."

Phool's eyes snapped to him, wide and defensive. "What are you talking about?" she spat, her voice shaking. "Raghav killed Om. He's the one responsible. He always hated me... wanted to hurt me through our son."

Vikram sighed, choosing his words carefully. "Phool, we know you and Raghav had your problems. You were hurt by his affair. But this isn't about that, is it?"

Phool's face contorted, her mouth twisting as if struggling to control her emotions. "Raghav ruined everything," she whispered harshly. "He cheated on me. He left me for that other woman. But Om... Om was all I had left."

"And yet," Alok interjected, his voice steady but pressing, "you tried to keep Om away from Raghav. You didn't want him to see his father."

Phool's eyes flickered with anger. "I didn't want Om to become like him!" she shouted suddenly, her fists clenched on the table. "I didn't want my son to grow up thinking it was okay to abandon his family for some other woman. I tried... I tried so many times to make him see, to make him stay away from his father, but he wouldn't listen!"

Her voice broke, and her hands trembled violently. Vikram watched her carefully, sensing she was close to revealing the truth.

"Phool," Vikram said softly, "what happened to Om?"

Phool's face twisted in pain, and for a moment, she seemed to shrink into herself, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I didn't want him to end up like Raghav."

Vikram leaned in, keeping his tone gentle but insistent. "So what did you do?"

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a terrifying mix of regret and fury. "I had no choice. I had to... I had to protect him. Om was too attached to Raghav. He... he adored his father. No matter what I told him, he always wanted to see him, always wanted to be like him." Her voice cracked, and her hands flew up to her head, clutching her hair. "I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let my son become like that man!"

Alok watched silently as Phool's emotions spiraled. He exchanged a glance with Vikram, the tension in the room thick.

Vikram took a deep breath. "So you killed him?"

Phool froze, her hands dropping to the table. She was quiet for a moment, her breath shallow. Then, without warning, she shook her head violently. "No! No, I didn't kill my son!" she screamed, pointing wildly toward the door. "It was Raghav! It was all him! He's the one who deserves to suffer! Not me, not Om. He did this!"

Her outburst caught them off guard, her expression switching from tearful sorrow to blazing anger in an instant. Her whole body shook as she continued shouting, blaming Raghav, accusing him of being the true murderer. Her words poured out with the frenzied desperation of someone losing their grip on reality.

"Phool," Vikram said carefully, trying to calm her down. "We'll help you. But you need to tell us the truth."

But she wasn't listening anymore. Her mind was spiraling out of control, her emotions overwhelming her sense of reason. One moment, she was weeping hysterically, pleading her innocence, and the next, she was accusing Raghav of every crime imaginable. It was clear something deeper was at play.

Realizing they were getting nowhere, Vikram gestured to Alok. "Let's get her some help. This isn't something we can solve here."

---

A few hours later, after Phool had calmed down slightly, she was transferred to a mental health facility for evaluation. Vikram and Alok stood outside the hospital, watching as Phool was escorted inside. She looked lost, her once fierce expression now dull and vacant, as if her mind had fractured under the weight of her grief.

"Do you think she's telling the truth?" Alok asked, his voice low.

Vikram shook his head. "She's clearly not in her right mind. I don't think she even knows what the truth is anymore. But she's traumatized. That much is clear. Whether or not she killed Om... well, we'll need the doctors to help us with that."

Inside the hospital, Phool underwent a series of psychological evaluations. The results were troubling. The trauma of her broken marriage, the affair, and the loss of her son had all taken a heavy toll on her mental state. The doctors confirmed that she was suffering from severe emotional distress and had likely been in a fragile state long before Om's death.

One of the doctors, Dr. Rao, later met with Vikram. He spoke with a tone of quiet authority, his years of experience giving him a measured perspective on the situation.

"Inspector Mehra, it's clear that Phool is suffering from severe trauma," Dr. Rao began, handing Vikram a report. "Her emotional breakdown after the loss of her son has led her to a state of delusion. She's convinced herself that both Raghav and Om were tied to her own pain, and it's possible that in her fractured mind, she believed killing Om was a way to 'protect' him from becoming like his father."

Vikram listened intently, absorbing the weight of the doctor's words. "So you're saying she might've convinced herself that this was the only way?"

Dr. Rao nodded. "Exactly. But now, her mind is oscillating between guilt and blame. On one hand, she might accept that she killed Om, and on the other, she projects that guilt onto Raghav. It's a classic case of dissociation."

"Will she recover?" Vikram asked, though he already knew the answer.

"It's hard to say," Dr. Rao admitted. "Mental recovery in cases like this can take years, and even then, she may never fully accept what she did. She's been transferred to the mental asylum for now, where she can receive the care and treatment she needs. But the road ahead is long."

Vikram exhaled slowly, watching as the ambulance doors closed, carrying Phool to the facility. He felt a mixture of relief and sadness. The case had unraveled into something far more tragic than he'd expected. Phool's shattered mind, Om's death, and Raghav's broken life were all casualties of a deeper pain that went beyond simple murder.

As the ambulance pulled away, Vikram turned to Alok, his face set with determination. "We'll keep digging. Phool might not be fully aware of what she did, but Om deserves justice. We need to make sure we have all the facts."

Alok nodded solemnly. "Agreed. Let's get to work." They file a report to the court with Phool mental health report. This was confirmed that Phool will not be jailed as her mental condition is not stable.

As Vikram arranging all the documents and closing the case.