"Edge of Uncertainty"

Shivani stumbled into the hospital, each step heavier than the last. Her breath was shallow, and pain seared between her thighs, unbearable and raw. But even in the midst of agony, her determination did not falter. Clutching the remaining money tightly in her trembling hand, she reached the reception desk and placed the crumpled bills in front of the nurse.

"Operation... please… hurry…" her voice was no more than a whisper, breaking under the weight of her pain and desperation.

With the formalities complete, she staggered toward the operation theater. Every step felt like crossing a desert barefoot—her legs ached, her body cried for rest—but her mind was gripped by one thing only: Abhay ji. Her everything. Her pillar. Her strength.

Reaching the waiting area outside the theater, Shivani collapsed into a chair. Her eyes locked onto the glowing red bulb above the door. It blinked at her like an unblinking eye, silently mocking her helplessness. Time seemed to warp. Seconds dragged like hours. The ticking of the clock became thunderous in her ears.

An hour and a half later, the doors finally creaked open.

Shivani leapt to her feet, heart pounding. Her eyes searched desperately until they landed on the doctor.

"Doctor! What happened? Is he… is Abhay ji okay?"

The doctor gave a measured nod. "The operation was successful."

A gasp of relief escaped her lips, and her body swayed from the weight of hope suddenly flooding her veins. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as her lips trembled into a fragile smile.

But then came the pause. The hesitation in the doctor's voice. And then the dreaded words—

"However…"

Shivani's heart clenched. "However what, Doctor?" she asked, panic rising like a wave ready to drown her.

"We can only confirm his condition once he regains consciousness," he said, before turning and walking away.

Hope shattered again, replaced instantly by fear's cruel grip.

Moments later, Abhay was wheeled into the ICU. A male nurse stood by to monitor him, and Shivani could only watch through the glass, her hands pressed to it, whispering silent prayers into the sterile air.

---

Elsewhere… at the Unknown Man's Residence

"Boss."

The voice of the African guard was low and cautious.

"What now?" the man growled without looking up.

"While patrolling the grounds, we saw someone outside your window… recording something. It was a girl. We chased her. She fought back and got away, but before we could catch her—" the guard paused, swallowing— "a car hit her. She died on the spot."

The man's face twisted into a snarl. "A girl overpowered you? You fools! And the phone?!"

"We don't have it," the other guard muttered.

"Useless idiots!" the man roared, slamming a fist on the table. "Get out of my sight!"

The guards scurried away, heads lowered.

The man paced the room, rage bubbling within. Who was that girl? he wondered. And what did she see?

Just then, his phone rang.

"Yes?" he snapped.

"Boss. The operation is done. Abhay ji is now in ICU. But the doctor says the real update will come once he wakes up."

The man's voice turned ice-cold. "He must survive. Do whatever it takes. I don't care how much it costs. He cannot die. Do you understand?" He ended the call without waiting for a reply.

As he lowered the phone, his thoughts wandered—back to Shivani.

I've known my wife's body like my own… but this… this felt different… like it was my first time…

He returned to the room where he had defiled her. Silence hung in the air like a curse. He walked to the corner, retrieving a tiny, hidden camera. But when his eyes landed on the bedsheet… he froze.

White. Stained with red.

Blood.

She was a virgin…

A chill passed through him, and for once, he had no words. No curses. No justifications.

He turned away and entered another room. Sitting before a computer, he inserted the camera's memory card and began transferring the footage. The screen flickered as the video loaded. His face, unreadable. His intentions—darker than ever.

---

Back at the Hospital

Shivani stood at the ICU window, hands pressed against the glass, tears trailing down her cheeks.

Please, Papa… please come back to us. We need you. I need you…

Her heart felt like it was being wrung dry. But then another name broke through her thoughts—Aditya.

Wiping her tears, she rushed to the children's ward. There he lay—tiny and fragile—both legs in plaster. Her heart ached anew.

She sat by his side and gently brushed his hair back.

Aditya stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and when he saw her, his lips curled into a faint smile. "Didi…"

"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice tender.

"I'm hungry…"

Shivani smiled, despite everything. "Of course you are. Wait right here, I'll bring something delicious."

A short while later, she returned with a plate of khichdi. She sat beside him and fed him spoon by spoon, murmuring soft encouragements. Once done, she gave him water and medicine, then helped him lie back.

"Didi… where's Papa?" he asked innocently.

Her heart clenched. "Papa isn't feeling well, baby. He's resting. When he wakes up, he'll come see you, okay?"

Aditya nodded, trusting her completely. He closed his eyes, drifting into sleep as the medicine took hold.

Shivani leaned down and kissed his forehead, then walked back to the ICU.

As she stood watching through the glass once more, something shifted. She blinked.

His eyes.

They fluttered.

Shivani gasped. Her heart skipped a beat. She pushed the ICU door open and ran inside. The nurse was nowhere in sight.

She turned to call out—but just then, a voice, weak and barely audible, stopped her in her tracks.

"Wait… Shivani…"

She froze.

Slowly, she turned back.

There he was. Abhay ji. Awake. Alive.

Tears streamed down her face. Relief flooded her chest, filling the void that had been growing since the moment she brought him here.

He was back.