Yuvaan

As I crouched beside Chavi, I could barely breathe. Her face was pale, and her head was bleeding . I reached out, letting my fingers graze her forehead. Her skin felt cold, fragile. Another tear fell before I could stop it. I saw the torn sleeve of her blouse, and a deep rage simmered in my chest. Inhaling sharply, I scooped her up in my arms, holding her close, as though that could somehow shield her from what had happened.

I moved quickly, heading downstairs, careful with every step. Outside, the chaos of the party barely registered. I was already focused on one thing—getting her to help. Just as I approached my car, I saw Agastya and Janvi running toward me. Janvi’s eyes went wide when she saw Chavi’s bruised face, and her hands trembled as she reached out, her fingers gently brushing Chavi’s cheek.

“What happened to her?” she asked, her voice choked with fear. I didn’t have the words, didn’t trust myself to speak. I just looked at Agastya, gesturing for him to open the back door.

Agastya didn’t ask any questions; he opened the door, and I carefully laid her in the back seat, making sure her head was supported as Janvi slipped in beside her. She held onto Chavi’s hand tightly, whispering something softly, trying to soothe her even though she was unconscious.

I climbed into the driver’s seat, my mind racing, hands gripping the wheel. Agastya slid into the passenger seat, his face a mix of concern and anger. I didn’t waste a second—I floored the gas pedal, weaving through the streets, every second feeling like it stretched into an eternity. Janvi suddenly spoke up, her voice strained.

“Do either of you have a handkerchief? Her head won’t stop bleeding…”

Without hesitation, Agastya pulled out a handkerchief and handed it back to her. I glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as Janvi pressed it gently to Chavi’s forehead, her hands shaking but steady enough to tend to her friend.

“Hang on, Chavi… please,” Janvi whispered, her words catching in her throat. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus, pushing down the tidal wave of emotions threatening to consume me. This wasn’t the time to lose control.

Finally, the hospital loomed ahead. I parked recklessly, throwing the car into a stop as I got out, quickly moving to the back door. I lifted Chavi into my arms, the weight of her feeling heavier than it should, but I didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter. The nurses rushed over as I laid her down on the stretcher they brought, my hands unwilling to let go until I was forced to.

“Take her in,” one of the nurses urged, and I nodded, stepping back just enough to allow them to wheel her toward the operating room.

“Sir, you need to fill out some paperwork at reception,” another nurse called out. I tore my gaze from Chavi as they pushed her away and headed over to the reception desk. I filled out the forms, hands shaking slightly as I scrawled the answers.

Once I finished, I returned to where Janvi and Agastya were waiting outside the room where Chavi was being operated on. Janvi was sitting on a chair and sobbing, while Agastya leaned against the wall, his expression tense.

I felt a hollow ache in my chest, the helplessness gnawing at me.

The quiet of the hospital hallway pressed in, suffocating and heavy. Each second felt like it stretched on endlessly, and my thoughts kept flashing back to the scene in that washroom. The blood, Chavi’s torn sleeve, her eyes wide with fear—everything was replaying in a loop that I couldn’t escape.

Then, the doctor emerged, breaking the silence, his face serious as he looked between the three of us.

“What exactly happened to the patient?” he asked.

I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself. “She… she fell,” I said, keeping my voice even. “She hit her head pretty badly, and it's bleeding a lot.”

The doctor nodded curtly, disappearing back into the operating room. As he left, Agastya turned toward me, his expression hard, barely containing his frustration.

“Yuvaan, what really happened to her?”

For a moment, I couldn’t answer. The memory of the scene—the professor’s hands on her, her struggle—tightened in my chest, but I knew Agastya deserved to know the truth.

“It wasn’t just a fall,” I finally managed, voice rough with anger. “That English professor… I found him in the washroom with her. He was…” My voice trailed off as I saw Agastya’s face darken with rage, understanding immediately what I couldn’t bring myself to say.

Agastya clenched his fists, his voice seething with fury. “And you… how did you get there? How did you know?”

I took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t find her in the party, and I started getting worried. I searched everywhere I could think of, but when she wasn’t on the ground floor, I went upstairs. I heard someone screaming—a girl. I followed the sound and ended up outside the washroom door. When I got there, I heard her voice… she was crying, screaming for help. And when I went inside…” My voice faltered, remembering the sight of Chavi pinned there, helpless. “I saw her… struggling, bleeding.”

Agastya cursed under his breath, a murderous expression clouding his face as he glanced away, as though trying to hold back his anger. “I’m calling the police,” he said, voice low and final. Without waiting for a response, he moved a few steps away, pulling out his phone to make the call.

I looked over at Janvi, her face streaked with tears. She looked lost, devastated, and I felt my own anger and helplessness return, realizing how much this had affected all of us. But I had to focus—Chavi needed me here, I mean us, and she needed to be safe.

After a few moments, Agastya returned, looking at both of us. “The police are on their way,” he said, his voice tense with controlled anger.

Before we could say more, the doctor returned to the hallway, his expression softer this time. “The wound was deep, and she’s lost a fair amount of blood. But we’ve managed to stabilize her, so there’s no immediate danger now.”

A wave of relief washed over me, though it felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. She was stable, but the weight of everything she’d been through still hung over us.

The doctor’s expression shifted to a more curious one. “Where did she fall from?” he asked.

Agastya’s face tightened, and without hesitation, he replied, “She didn’t fall. She was… sexually harassed.”

The doctor’s gaze snapped to mine, a frown settling over his face. “Why didn’t you tell us that sooner? have you informed the police?”

I kept my gaze steady, my voice firm. “Her health came first. And yes, we’ve called the police.”

Janvi, who’d been silent for most of the conversation, finally spoke up, her voice soft but urgent. “Can… can I see her?”

The doctor shook his head gently, his tone regretful. “She’ll be unconscious for at least the next three hours. After that, you can visit her.”

With a last nod, he turned and left, leaving us alone in the silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts, waiting for the moment we could finally see her again.

Janvi’s phone rang, shattering the heavy silence that had settled between us. She fumbled with it, her hands still shaking, and her tear-streaked face crumpled further as she answered. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I guessed it was her father. She was telling him everything, her voice trembling as she asked him to come. When she hung up, her sobs started again, harder this time.

I glanced over at Agastya, who was holding a bottle of water out to her, but she just shook her head, almost instinctively refusing it. My chest tightened, watching her struggle. Janvi was like family to Chavi—and to me, she was like a sister. I took the water bottle from Agastya and gently nudged it closer to her.

“Janvi,” I said softly, “just a sip. You need it.”

She looked up at me, her eyes glassy and red, but after a moment, she took a small sip, then another. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel the gratitude in her eyes. She was just as broken by this as I was, maybe more.

I took a deep breath, my mind reeling with anger. How the hell did this happen? How could something so twisted and vile happen to Chavi, here of all places? Colleges are supposed to be safe, especially my college. And now this.

As the rage built up in my chest, I made a mental note right there—I’d go over every damn thing, every staff member’s background, their history, even their behavior on campus. This was my college, and I’d be damned if I let something like this slip by again.

But that professor… the one who dared to touch my baby, dared to hurt her… no amount of punishment could make up for it. The thought of him still breathing, was like acid burning through my veins. I clenched my fists, feeling the rage ignite all over again.

I knew one thing—he wouldn’t be seeing another sunrise. Not if I had anything to do with it.

After what felt like forever, Janvi's parents arrived, and she fell into her father’s arms, her tears starting anew. Her parents held her close, their faces filled with worry and heartbreak. Watching them brought an uncomfortable thought crashing into my mind: where was Chavi’s family? Her father—someone should be here for her, especially after what she’d been through.

Janvi, between sobs, was telling her parents everything that had happened. Her father, looking shaken but composed, walked over to me and joined his hands together "thank you beta" he thanked me.

“No, sir,” I said, grabbing his hands and stopping him. “Please, there’s no need for that.” I didn’t want formalities; I just wanted Chavi safe and justice served. I updated him on Chavi’s condition and informed him that police must be arriving. He nodded, appreciating the promptness of the actions we’d taken.

After a tense silence and endless minutes of waiting, a nurse appeared in the hallway. Her voice was a small but hopeful relief as she informed us, “She has regained consciousness.”

Janvi barely waited for the words to settle before she darted toward the door, rushing in. Her parents quickly followed, and I stood there for a moment, frozen by a mixture of relief and an odd hesitation. My fists were still clenched, my mind spinning with a storm of emotions. But Agastya placed a hand on my shoulder, nudging me forward.

As I stepped into the room, I saw her. Chavi was sitting up, her face pale, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She was clinging to Janvi, holding on as if she was her lifeline, and Janvi’s mother gently rubbed her back, comforting her in a way only a mother could.

Seeing her like that, so fragile and broken, made my heart ache in ways I couldn't even explain.

Just then the police arrived and the procedure for FIR was completed. They asked her some questions and some questions were thrown to me as well. They left after writing an fir and went to arrest that bastard. I swear on my baby, I'll not let that fucker stay alive. I'll do whatever I'll need to for that.