BETWEEN STRINGS AND SHADOWS

Chapter-7

Later that morning, Anirudh made his way to the government hospital, the corridor lined with quiet footsteps and murmured conversations. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the white tiles.

Room 308.

He knocked once, gently, before pushing the door open.

Priya sat on the edge of the hospital bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She looked up at the sound, eyes wide, haunted — the kind of look that stayed with someone long after they left the room.

Anirudh stepped inside slowly. “Hi, Priya.”

She said nothing, only nodded.

He pulled up a chair, sat beside her, notepad in his hand but not opened yet.

“You don’t have to tell me everything today,” he said softly. “But even a small detail could help us stop them. Not just for you… but for the others.”

Priya hesitated. Her fingers clutched the edge of the blanket.

Then, finally, she spoke. “They… they kept us in a dark place. No windows. Just metal walls. The men wore masks. We never saw faces… just voices. Orders.”

Anirudh leaned forward slightly, his voice low, steady. “Do you remember how they took you?”

Priya nodded slowly. “A car. I was waiting near the bus stop. It was getting late. My friend left early. Then… a woman came. She said my mom sent her. That something happened and she’d take me home.” Her voice cracked. “She was kind. I believed her.”

A woman. That was new.

Anirudh’s brows furrowed. “Do you remember her face?”

Priya shook her head. “No. I think… I think she was wearing a scarf. Big glasses. She smiled a lot.”

Anirudh made a mental note. They were evolving. Using women now. Smiling faces. Safe lies.

She reached under her pillow, then pulled out something wrapped in tissue. “This… it fell from her bag. I picked it up when she wasn’t looking.”

Anirudh carefully unwrapped it.

A small token — a keychain.

With a logo.

A flower with five petals, and words beneath it: Samarpana Women’s Welfare Trust.

His eyes narrowed.

“I’ve seen this before,” he muttered.

He stood up, squeezing her shoulder gently. “You did good, Priya. You’re very brave.”

And with that, he turned and walked out of the room — because now he had a lead.

And he wasn’t going to let it slip.

As Anirudh turned to leave, Priya’s voice stopped him — quiet, but trembling with urgency.

“Sir…”

He looked back.

“There’s something else,” she whispered, her hands gripping the edge of the blanket. “They… they tried to inject something into me.”

Anirudh froze.

“They held me down,” she continued, voice shaking. “But I fought. I screamed. I think I scratched one of them. He slapped me hard and they stopped. Said I was 'too loud.'”

Anirudh stepped closer, his expression darkening. “Do you know what it was?”

Priya shook her head. “No… but I heard them talking. One of them said, ‘we need to test the new batch.’ The other said, ‘not on this one. Wait for the clean ones.’”