Chapter 3: The Night of Poornima

Page 3: Year 2018. Poornima Night. Shanti Villa Terrace.

Riya was 16. Kabir was 20. He had been working at her house as a driver for 2 years. No one knew he was Mehra's son. He changed his last name.

"Riya, come to the terrace at 12," he had whispered that morning. "I have a surprise. It’s poornima. The moon is beautiful."

Riya had a crush on him. She wore her new yellow suit and went up at 11:55 PM.

Kabir was standing near the edge. The moon was huge and white. The whole city was silver.

"You called me?" Riya said, nervous.

Kabir turned. He was not smiling. His eyes were red. "Do you know who I am, Riya?"

"You’re Kabir bhaiya. Papa’s driver."

"No." He stepped closer. "I am Kabir Mehra. Your father killed my father. And today, I will take revenge."

Riya stepped back. "What... what are you saying?"

"I was going to kidnap you," Kabir said. "Make your father suffer. But I can't. Because..." He looked at her. "Because you smile like you did when you were 8. And I can't hurt you."

Riya's eyes filled with tears. "Kabir, please. Let’s go to police. We’ll tell them everything."

"Police?" Kabir laughed bitterly. "Your father owns the police. There is no justice for poor people, Riya."

Suddenly the terrace door banged open. A fat man with a gold chain walked in. Chacha. Kabir's uncle.

"So sweet," Chacha said, clapping. "Nephew falling for the enemy's daughter. Should I record this for your father in heaven?"

"Chacha, no," Kabir said. "I changed my mind. I’m not doing this."

"Too late," Chacha said. He nodded to two men behind him. "The property papers. If Kabir dies tonight, I am the only Mehra left. All this house, all this land... mine."

Riya gasped. "You want to kill him for property?"

"Smart girl," Chacha said. "Hold her." The men grabbed Riya.

Kabir ran at them. "Leave her!" One man pulled out a knife.

What happened next was fast. Kabir pushed Riya behind him. The knife went into Kabir's arm. He screamed. Chacha ran forward and pushed Kabir hard.

Kabir lost balance. He fell towards the edge.

Riya's hand shot out. She grabbed his wrist. "KABIR!"

For one second, their eyes met. Kabir was hanging from the terrace. Riya was lying on the floor, holding him. She was slipping.

"Let go," Kabir whispered. "You’ll fall too."

"No!" Riya cried.

Then she saw it. Chacha standing behind her. He raised his leg. And he stomped on Riya's hand.

Pain exploded. Riya's grip opened.

Kabir fell.

His last word, carried by the wind: "Riyaaa..."

The typewriter stopped. Riya was on the floor of Shanti Villa, screaming. The memory had come back. All of it.

"I didn’t kill you," she sobbed. "I tried to save you. Chacha... Chacha killed you."

YES, the typewriter wrote. NOW YOU REMEMBER. AND NOW YOU KNOW WHY I AM ANGRY. YOUR FATHER COVERED IT UP. HE TOLD POLICE YOU PUSHED ME. THEN HE PAID THEM TO CALL IT SUICIDE.

Riya looked at her right hand. There was a faint scar she had never noticed before. A boot mark.

"My papa... he said I was mad. He sent me to a doctor. He said I imagined it."

HE LIED. TO SAVE HIMSELF. AND TO SAVE CHACHA. BECAUSE CHACHA GAVE HIM MONEY.

Riya stood up, wiping her face. "What do we do now, Kabir?"

The typewriter typed one word: WRITE.

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