Chapter 5: The Fallout
At first, I thought the police would clear me. But Arjun’s influence kept twisting the story. Trolls flooded social media, headlines warped my words, doctored videos spread like wildfire.
My coach offered chai and advice: “Sometimes a folded hand does more than a loud voice. Go apologise—maybe you’ll get leniency.”
I swallowed my pride—Abba always said, “For family, sometimes you have to bend so you don’t break.” I made a video apology. Mr. Agarwal refused to meet me. Arjun taunted online, his followers sending threats. My apology only convinced more people of my guilt.
Twitter trended #ArrestRohan. My old friends tried to defend me, but their voices drowned in abuse. Even diving enthusiasts accused me of cheating, old rivals piled on, and no one cared for my clarifications.
My family suffered. Amma started lighting an extra diya every morning, whispering prayers for my name to be cleared. My uncle avoided my eyes at dinner. Our neighbours gossiped, and shopkeepers turned away.
In the end, I returned the fifty lakh, publicly quit diving, and shrank to the four walls of our house. Even after the police found no evidence, my licence was revoked. The city’s judgement was final.