Remarriage

Brinda looked down at Viraj, whose tiny body was still wracked with sobs. She lifted him, kissing his head.

"Viraj, nahi, nahi rote, Mummy hai naa, mera baccha," (Viraj, no, don't cry, Mummy is here, my baby,) she murmured, pulling him into a tight embrace. Samrat caressed Viraj's head, then kissed him, his jaw clenching as he recalled Rishabh's man pointing a gun at his son. He wrapped his arms around both Brinda and Viraj, kissing their foreheads.

"Brinda, look after Viraj, okay," he said softly. She nodded. He stood up, helping her to her feet, and then his gaze swept over his unconscious family. Vibhuti entered the hall just then, and Samrat's voice cut through the heavy silence. "Vibhuti, call the doctor."

Vibhuti nodded, disappearing immediately. Samrat moved towards his family, his eyes lingering on his sister. He gently adjusted her clothes, covered her with a thin sheet, kissed her forehead, and whispered, "I am sorry, beta, I got late."

He then carefully began to position his other family members, a fresh pang of pain in his heart when he saw his grandmother in an awkward pose that might cause her discomfort. She was an old lady. He gently lifted her legs, placing them carefully on her cot, then straightened her body, covering her with a blanket.

"Oldie, I know you are strong," he whispered, a tender kiss to her forehead.

He looked at Brinda, who, with one arm, held Viraj close while with the other, she painstakingly tried to straighten his mother's position. "Brinda, I'll do it. You just look after Viraj. He needs you at this moment."

She looked at Viraj, her heart aching for the scared little one. She hugged him tighter. Her gaze then drifted to the unconscious figures of her family members. How would they possibly handle the news about Adhiraj? Her eyes welled up again, and she began to cry, clinging to her son. Samrat watched her, and after ensuring his father was comfortable, he moved towards her.

"Brinda," he whispered. She looked up at him, her voice choked with anguish. "Samrat ji, how will they handle this?"

Samrat gently wiped her tears. "We have to be strong for them, Brinda." He paused for a moment, "Bhaiya always knew about Rishabh. Bhaiya was a hurdle in his way. He had even collected all the proofs against Rishabh. He was the one who raped Pooja, and many other girls and women became his victims, Brinda."

Brinda's eyes widened in horror. She remembered Pooja, how brutally the girl had been raped, bleeding and traumatized. She looked at Samrat. "So he manipulated the situation?"

Samrat nodded, his jaw clenched, his voice a low growl. "Around a hundred videos I found in that file which Bhaiya had kept in a secret spot—him forcing girls, even minors. I am sure he used those videos to manipulate the families of the victims."

"Mahadev!" she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "Can we trust the police in this, Samrat ji? If he bribed them before, what is the guarantee that this will not happen again? What if those videos of those innocent girls..."

"No, Brinda," he interrupted, his voice firm and reassuring. "I know DM Vikas Kumar. He was my classmate. I trust him with the privacy and dignity of all those innocent women and girls." She nodded, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. He continued, "The whole village must see and know about this monster."

Brinda nodded, her hatred for Rishabh a cold, burning fire she had never felt for anyone before. "Kill him in the worst way possible, Samrat ji."

Samrat nodded, his eyes meeting hers, acknowledging her pain and fury. She took his hand in hers, her voice filled with a desperate plea. "What about the police? What if he again manipulates the proofs if he gets arrested? There are many criminals who, even with all the proofs against them, are still living freely. Cases drag on in court, and they continue to live their lives outside. How many truly get justice, Samrat ji?"