Chapter 8: Confession and Consequence

Meera definitely didn’t want the rat poison for rats, but for Kabir. If she killed someone, I’d definitely be implicated. Panic swept through my body.

My stomach knotted with fear. I’d seen enough crime shows to know that people like me—people who see too much—end up paying for things they never did. I wanted to run, to disappear, to erase the last few weeks from my memory.

In a few minutes, Harish Bhaiya came home in his apron, handing over a glass bottle wrapped in several plastic bags.

He shuffled in, face shiny with sweat, apron stained with masala. “Be careful, Meera,” he said, voice full of concern. He handed her the bottle like a precious relic, double-wrapped for safety.

“Be very careful, this stuff kills on contact,” Harish Bhaiya warned again and again. “Come down for dinner soon.”

He repeated himself, fussing like a mother hen. For a moment, I felt a pang of pity for him—so clueless, so trusting.

Meera looked out the window, made sure Harish Bhaiya had returned to the shop, then picked up her phone and called Kabir.

Her hands shook, but her voice was steady. “Kabir, I was wrong. I lied to you because I was afraid you’d leave me. I really did withdraw the money. Come get it this afternoon, okay? I can’t live without you. I just want to marry you.”

Kabir was silent for a while, then said, “Okay, I’ll come get it. I love you too. I just can’t stand being lied to by the one I love most.”

There was a long pause. When Kabir finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost gentle. It sounded like a truce, but I knew better.

I hurried back to my room, took out the three envelopes, and after Meera went out, I sneaked back and put the money under the freezer.

My palms were slick with sweat. Every step felt like it echoed through the whole building. I slid the envelopes back under the freezer and tiptoed out, heart pounding.

After doing all this, I went back to my room to play games, trying to calm my heartbeat.

I switched on my PC, hands shaking so badly I could barely type. I told myself, “Bas, ho gaya. You’re safe now.” But I knew it was a lie.

At 5 p.m., Kabir came again. Meera handed him a bottle of Thums Up, but Kabir didn’t drink it. Instead, he hugged Meera. “Sorry, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but I love you.”

He smiled, all charm and apology. The bottle sweated in Meera’s hand, cold and dangerous.

Meera said gently, “I know, I love you too. The money and I are both yours.”

Her words were soft, her eyes searching Kabir’s face for forgiveness.

Kabir kissed Meera all over her face.

He was clumsy, eager, almost boyish in his affection. Meera flinched but didn’t pull away.

“Where’s the money?”

Kabir’s tone was impatient, greed sharpening his features.

“Say you love me.”

Meera’s voice was teasing, almost a challenge. She tilted her head, eyes wide.

“I love you. Where’s the money?”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled, playing along.

“Don’t be anxious.” Meera acted coy. “Tired? Thirsty?”

She brushed his cheek, trying to delay the inevitable.

“Not thirsty, it’s getting late.”

Kabir’s voice was curt, his eyes darting to the freezer.

“Can’t you keep me company for a bit?”

Meera’s tone was pleading, but Kabir was already searching the room.

Kabir couldn’t wait and started searching himself: pillows, nightstand, wardrobe... soon, his gaze fell on the freezer.

He moved through the room like a man possessed, tossing aside cushions and pulling open drawers. When his eyes landed on the freezer, I knew it was over.

Meera watched him motionlessly.

She stood still, arms folded, watching as Kabir hunted for the money.

“This is...” Sure enough, Kabir pulled out three brown envelopes from under the freezer. “Ten, twenty, thirty... three lakh. Why is it so oily... Meera, I love you so much.”

He grinned, clutching the envelopes like a treasure hunter. The money was stained with oil, but he didn’t care.

The Thums Up in Meera’s hand dropped, hitting the bed and spilling everywhere.

The bottle rolled across the sheets, fizzing and dripping onto the floor. Meera stared at it, numb.

“When I get rich, I’ll come marry you.”

Kabir stuffed the envelopes into his bag, his voice triumphant. He didn’t look back.

Kabir quickly put on his clothes and disappeared out the door.

He was gone in seconds, leaving Meera staring at the open door, her face blank.

“Oil... money...” Meera stared blankly. “...why did it come back again?”

She murmured the words, voice hollow. It was as if her whole world had come undone, and she had no idea how to piece it back together.