Secrets Hidden In Time (Time #1)

43 | The Beginning Of Something Destructive

"Oh." Rukmini nodded.

"Mrs. Nath has been continuously repeating the same sentence." Praapti remarked.

"What exactly?" Hinduja resumed walking, this time heading in the direction of the waiting room instead. Praapti and Rukmini followed her.

"That she won't leave until she meets you." Praapti's reply fell on Hinduja's ears.

She took a look at the glass dial of her analog watch and then swiftly crossed the threshold of the waiting room.

Inside the chamber, occupied with four sets of five-seater metal tandem chairs, glowing with minimal lighting, on the last two chairs sat a middle-aged couple, side by side, holding on to each other's hands.

Hinduja assessed the woman, sitting silently next to her husband, her sunken eyes fixated on nothing in general, rather just lifelessly staring at the whitewashed wall ahead. Nandini Nath looked no different than the last time she had met her. Just like last time, her scraggly and dehydrated hair were trussed in a bun while the crow's feet marring the corners of eyes looked even more apparent. The Salwar-kameez she was clad in did not make any efforts to hide her pale gaunt arms and rawboned frame either.

The man settled next to her; meanwhile, her husband appeared in a condition that was similar to her. As if both of them were drained, hopeless, and lifeless, all at the same time.

Hinduja cleared her throat and slowly strolled towards the couple.

The middle-aged woman immediately turned her attention from the wall to her. Supporting her frail left palm on the arm of the tandem chair, she got up. Her husband followed suit, his left arm wound around her bony shoulders.

As she moved closer, the amber hue of Nandini Nath's irises became even more evident.

Bowing her head to a certain angle, Hinduja greeted. "Good afternoon."

The husband feebly nodded while the wife maintained silence. Then, suddenly stepping closer to the profiler, Nandini Nath gently took hold of Hinduja's warm hands and clasped them in her cold ones.

The irony of the situation was that the middle-aged woman was very much alive, but it almost felt as if the light in her eyes had long perished at hands of desperation.

"How is the investigation going on, officer?" Soft and gentle—that's what Hinduja derived from Nandini's tone of voice.

"It's in progress."

Nandini nodded. Then, taking in a deep breath, she met the profiler's sable eyes. "I am here to ask you just one question." She paused, as a feeble smile emerged on her face. "Am I allowed to ask it?"

"Please go ahead." Hinduja tipped her chin.

The middle-aged woman's breathing became labored. Chocking on the words that were trying to leave her lips, she swallowed hard. "Is there any chance of us seeing our daughter alive?" The lifeless pair of amber swirls suddenly turned misty. "Even one percent chance would do." Her frail and cold hands quivered as she sniffled. "Will I ever get my child back?" She paused. "Alive?"

Hinduja's breath got stuck in her throat as she stared at the last few remnants of bleak hope coruscating in the eyes of the woman standing before her, almost on the verge of getting lost forever.

For the first time, her mind went blank. She had no answer.

The air around them was shrouded in a wretched capote of silence. Rukmini and Praapti glanced at each other and then stared at the ground beneath as well.

Kul Bhushan Nath looked on as a trail of tears escaped from the corner of his left eye.

Nandini Nath resumed to peer at the lady officer before her in a desperate attempt to get her answers. "Just one percent chance; even that's enough for me, for that's all I require. Will I get to see my Bhavyaa ever again? Alive?"