Chapter 8
The Edge of Darkness
The evening slowly melted into night.
One by one, the dim yellow streetlights of the neighborhood flickered to life. Their weak glow barely pushed back the darkness settling over the narrow lanes. A warm dusty wind moved through the alleyways, carrying the smells of cooking oil, roadside food, and the distant smoke of burning garbage.
Rajni stood in the middle of her small rented room.
The door had just closed behind her.
Silence filled the space.
It was the kind of silence that felt heavy, almost alive — pressing against her ears, reminding her that the house that once echoed with her parents' voices was now nothing more than four empty walls.
Her hand slowly opened.
Inside her palm lay the two roses she had bought on the way home.
Or what remained of them.
The flowers had been crushed in her tight grip. Their soft red petals were wrinkled and broken, while tiny thorns had pierced her skin.
Thin lines of blood ran across her palm.
Yet Rajni didn't feel the pain.
Her eyes were fixed on the floor.
The landlord's words still echoed in her head.
"Next month the rent increases. Five hundred more."
Her lips trembled slightly.
"Five hundred…" she whispered.
That small amount felt like a mountain now.
Slowly, she walked toward the old wooden table near the wall. On top of it stood the framed photograph of her parents — the one she had picked up earlier.
Her mother was smiling brightly in the picture, one arm wrapped around young Rajni during a school function. Her father stood beside them proudly.
Rajni gently placed the crushed roses in front of the frame.
Her fingers lingered there.
"Ma… Baba…"
Her voice broke.
"I got a job today."
For a moment, she tried to smile.
"I'll work in a hotel… washing dishes. Twelve hours a day… but they'll give six thousand rupees."
Her eyes began to fill with tears again.
"I think… we'll manage somehow."
But even as she spoke those hopeful words, something dark twisted inside her chest.
Six thousand rupees.
Rent.
Food.
Electricity.
The twelfth-day death ritual.
Ash collection tomorrow.
And the hundreds of small expenses life demanded every day.
Her chest tightened.
"Will it really be enough…?"
The question lingered in the air.
No answer came.
Rajni slowly sat down on the floor beside the bed.
She pulled her small purse toward her and emptied it.
The money fell onto the floor.
One thousand.
Two thousand.
Three thousand.
And five hundred.
₹3500.
That was all she had left in the world.
She stared at the notes for a long time.
Then her gaze slowly shifted toward her mobile phone lying beside the pillow.
The screen was dark.
But Rajni knew what was inside it.
A number.
Just a phone number.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the phone.
Last night…
At the cremation ground…
When that biker boy had spoken those words—
"One night. One thousand rupees."
The words had felt disgusting at that moment.
Filthy.
Unthinkable.
Yet something inside her had remembered them.
Without thinking, she had quietly typed the number into her phone before leaving.
Just in case.
At that time, she didn't know why.
Now she did.
Rajni stared at the screen.
Her thumb hovered above the contact.
Her breathing grew heavier.
"What am I even thinking…?"
She whispered to herself.
Her parents had been cremated barely a day ago.
And here she was…
Considering something that would have horrified them.
Her stomach twisted in guilt.
"No… I can't…"
She quickly locked the phone and threw it onto the bed.
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest.
She stood up and began pacing around the room.
"I'll work hard," she muttered.
"I'll manage somehow."
But reality followed her like a shadow.
Six thousand salary.
One month waiting.
Expenses starting tomorrow.
The twelfth-day ritual alone could cost thousands.
Her steps slowed.
Her shoulders slumped.
Then she remembered something else.
The hotel manager's words.
"One week trial first."
Her stomach dropped.
What if they rejected her?
What if the job disappeared before she even received her first salary?
Rajni stopped walking.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
The walls felt closer.
The future in front of her looked like a long dark tunnel with no visible end.
She slowly sat back down on the bed.
Her eyes drifted again toward the phone.
Her heart began beating faster.
The number was still there.
Silent.
Waiting.
One night.
One thousand rupees.
Five nights.
Five thousand.
That single thought sent a chill through her body.
"No…"
She shook her head violently.
Tears welled up again.
Her mind screamed that it was wrong.
Disgusting.
Shameful.
But another voice whispered quietly inside her mind.
A weapon is still a weapon… even if it is ugly.
The landlord's threat returned to her memory.
"Girls like you won't easily find another room."
She clenched her fists.
This world was not kind to girls who were alone.
Rajni wiped her tears roughly.
Then she picked up the phone again.
Her fingers moved slowly this time.
Almost as if someone else was controlling them.
She opened the contact.
The number stared back at her from the glowing screen.
Her thumb hovered over the call button.
For a long moment she couldn't move.
Her heart hammered violently.
Her breathing became shallow.
"If Ma were here…" she whispered.
The thought shattered something inside her.
Tears slid silently down her cheeks.
Then she closed her eyes.
And pressed the button.
The phone began ringing.
Each ring felt louder than the last.
Her chest tightened.
Her hands trembled.
For a second she almost ended the call.
But before she could—
The ringing stopped.
A male voice answered.
Rough.
Confident.
Slightly amused.
"Well… look who finally called."
Rajni froze.
Her throat went dry.
She couldn't speak.
The voice chuckled softly on the other side.
"I knew you would."
Rajni slowly opened her eyes.
Her gaze drifted toward the photograph of her parents on the table.
The crushed roses lay beneath it.
Her voice finally came out.
Barely a whisper.
"I… need money."
There was a brief silence on the line.
Then the man laughed quietly.
"Good."
His tone turned serious.
"Now we can talk business."
Rajni's fingers tightened around the phone.
And somewhere deep inside her heart…
Something pure quietly broke.