CHAPTER 3: Dinner Table Wars
Evening arrived without asking for permission.
The house dimmed slowly as sunlight withdrew from its glass walls, leaving behind long shadows that stretched across the marble floors like something alive. The brightness of morning had lied—this place didn't belong to light.
It belonged to silence.
And tonight… that silence was about to break.
---
Pranav sat on his bed, phone in hand, staring at the same two messages again.
"Take care of your mother."
"Don't trust anyone in that house."
Two lines.
Two problems.
No answers.
---
He had called the number twice.
Switched off.
Tried tracing it.
Nothing.
No WhatsApp DP. No name. No history.
Like it existed only to send those messages—and disappear.
---
"Smart," he muttered.
Or planned.
---
His mind kept circling back to one question—
Why now?
Three years of silence.
Three years of nothing.
And suddenly—
This.
---
His fingers tapped lightly against the phone.
Thinking.
Replaying.
Breaking things apart.
---
"Take care of your mother…"
If this was a joke—it was a sick one.
If it wasn't—
Then someone knew something they shouldn't.
---
A soft knock.
---
"Dinner," came his father's voice.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
But it carried that same command.
---
Pranav exhaled sharply.
"Of course," he whispered.
Because apparently, emotional breakdowns had to be scheduled around family meals.
---
He stood up, grabbed his phone, and walked out.
---
The dining hall looked exactly the same.
Perfect.
Controlled.
Artificial.
Like a photograph no one lived in.
---
Krishna was already seated.
Shraddha too.
Same positions.
Same arrangement.
Like nothing ever changed in this house—
Except the people inside it.
---
Pranav walked in and sat down without a word.
This time, no dramatic chair sounds.
No gestures.
Just… quiet.
---
Which somehow made it worse.
---
"Eat," Krishna said.
Pranav picked up the fork.
Didn't use it.
---
"You have something to say?" Krishna asked.
Without looking up.
---
Pranav smirked faintly.
"Depends. You ready to hear it?"
---
Krishna finally looked at him.
"Say it."
---
There it was.
Permission.
Like this was a meeting.
---
Pranav leaned forward slightly.
Eyes steady.
Voice calm.
Too calm.
---
"Mom didn't die in that crash."
---
Silence.
Instant.
Complete.
---
Shraddha's hand froze mid-air.
Krishna didn't react immediately.
But his gaze sharpened.
---
"Explain," he said.
---
"No body," Pranav replied. "No proper verification. Just reports. Statements. Closure given too easily."
---
Krishna's expression didn't change.
"That's not how investigations work."
---
"Exactly," Pranav said. "That's why I'm questioning it."
---
A pause.
Tension stretched.
---
"Where is this coming from?" Krishna asked.
---
Pranav leaned back now.
Studying him.
Measuring.
---
"What if I told you," he said slowly, "someone contacted me today… saying she's alive?"
---
Shraddha's eyes flickered.
Just for a second.
But Pranav caught it.
---
Krishna didn't.
Or pretended not to.
---
"Who?" he asked.
---
"Unknown number."
---
"And you believe that?" Krishna's tone was sharp now.
---
"I don't believe anything," Pranav replied. "I check."
---
Krishna placed his fork down.
Deliberately.
---
"This is exactly the kind of nonsense that wastes time," he said. "People prey on emotions. Especially yours."
---
Pranav laughed.
Short. Cold.
---
"Right," he said. "Because being logical worked so well last time, didn't it?"
---
That hit.
Hard.
---
Krishna's jaw tightened.
"Watch your tone."
---
"Or what?" Pranav shot back instantly. "You'll explain things again? Like you did when she 'died'?"
---
Shraddha looked between them.
Tension rising like pressure in a sealed room.
---
"That's enough," Krishna said.
---
"No," Pranav said, his voice rising now. "It's not."
---
He stood up.
This time, the chair didn't just scrape.
It slammed.
---
"You didn't even try hard enough," he continued. "You accepted it. Signed papers. Moved on."
---
"I did what was necessary," Krishna snapped.
---
"Necessary?" Pranav stepped closer. "Or convenient?"
---
That word—
Changed something.
---
Krishna stood up too.
Now they were face-to-face.
Same height.
Same fire.
Different reasons.
---
"Be very careful," Krishna said quietly.
---
Pranav smiled.
Not friendly.
Not sane.
---
"Or what?" he whispered. "You'll throw me out too?"
---
Shraddha stood up suddenly.
"Stop this—both of you."
---
Neither listened.
---
"You think I don't see it?" Pranav continued. "New wife. New life. Clean reset."
---
"She is not part of this," Krishna said sharply.
---
Pranav turned his head slightly toward Shraddha.
Then back.
---
"Everyone in this house is part of this."
---
That landed heavier than anything else.
---
Shraddha didn't speak.
Didn't defend herself.
Just… stood there.
---
Which made her more suspicious.
Not less.
---
Pranav grabbed his phone from the table.
Held it up.
---
"You want proof?" he said. "Fine. I'll find it."
---
Krishna didn't respond.
---
"I'm going to reopen everything," Pranav continued. "Flight records. Passenger list. Crash reports."
---
"You're not," Krishna said firmly.
---
"I am."
---
"You don't have authority."
---
Pranav stepped closer again.
Now inches away.
---
"I don't need authority," he said quietly. "I need truth."
---
For a second—
Neither moved.
---
Then—
Krishna spoke.
Low.
Cold.
---
"If you dig into this… you won't like what you find."
---
Pranav's smile returned.
Slower this time.
Darker.
---
"Good," he said.
---
He turned.
Walked away.
---
Behind him—
Silence didn't return.
---
It cracked.
---
Upstairs, Pranav shut the door hard and immediately dialed a number.
---
"Hello?" came the voice.
---
"Arjun," Pranav said. "I need a favor."
---
A pause.
Then—
"Bhai, tu jab 'favor' bolta hai na, ya toh illegal hota hai ya dangerous hota hai."
---
Pranav smirked slightly.
"Both."
---
"Perfect," Arjun replied. "Bol."
---
"I need flight data," Pranav said. "Three years ago. Australia route. Private + commercial. Everything."
---
"Tu CID join kar raha hai kya?"
---
"Bas data nikaal."
---
A pause.
Then Arjun's tone changed.
More serious.
---
"Kya chal raha hai?"
---
Pranav looked toward the window.
Dark now.
City lights flickering in the distance.
---
"Mom's case," he said.
---
Silence on the other end.
---
"Pranav…" Arjun said slowly. "That was closed."
---
"Not anymore."
---
A long pause.
Then—
"Okay," Arjun said. "Give me 24 hours."
---
"Make it 12."
---
"Tu order de raha hai ya request?"
---
"Depends. Tu mana karega?"
---
A sigh.
---
"12," Arjun said. "But agar tu phas gaya na, main nahi bachane aaunga."
---
Pranav smiled faintly.
---
"I won't get caught."
---
Call ended.
---
He placed the phone down.
Ran a hand through his hair.
Exhaled slowly.
---
Then—
His eyes shifted toward the door.
---
For a moment—
He thought he heard something.
A faint movement.
A step.
---
He walked toward the door quietly.
Opened it—
---
Empty hallway.
---
But at the far end—
Shraddha stood.
---
Still.
Silent.
Watching.
---
Their eyes met.
---
She didn't move.
Didn't explain.
Didn't look away.
---
Just… stood there.
---
And somehow—
That felt more dangerous than everything else.