45. An outcast, an orphan, a burden

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Befuddled and dumbfounded they were as Rudra continued narrating the tale, still in disbelief over the existence of all things paranormal, still unable to process that their children were hounded by a centuries-old evil spirit. Avinash and Shweta exchanged another round of furtive glances with each other when Rudra stopped speaking and hung his head low.

Gulping, Shweta said, "So, the dreams were not hallucinations but recollections?"

"Yes," Rudra muttered.

"And this lady in red that all of you keep seeing is a princess from Bhangarh?" Avinash said, frowning.

Rudra weakly nodded his head.

"And all of you think this spirit has got something to do with Siya's..."

Rudra sucked in air, meeting his mother's concerned orbs with his own bloodshot ones. Bobbing his head once more, he continued peering at the back of his palms.

Avinash heaved a deep sigh, scowled, and shook his head. "Why did you not tell us all of this beforehand?"

"I am sorry," Rudra whispered. "We had no idea that all of this will turn out to be so serious. We thought she was trying to scare us off. We never knew she was here to kill."

"She attempted to kill Nidhi," Shweta yelled, standing upright and glowering at the young man, the screeching of the chair echoing in the house as it got pushed backward. "How could you not tell us before?"

Rudra's lips parted as he observed his adoptive mother breathing rashly, fury swirling in her eyes, her nose flaring in a rage. "We made a terrible, terrible mistake. I am so sorry."

"Sorry?" Avinash's voice boomed next as he imitated his wife's actions. "You hid such an important thing from us. How dare you, Rudra? All of you were in danger, including Nidhi. One of your best friends died, and you still remained mum for so long. What were you waiting for, huh? Another accident that would harm my girl?"

Rudra's eyes dampened as he looked down and pursed his lips. He loved his family way more than he had initially assumed. Even when he had come to know of the truth, he held nothing but reverence for the people who brought him up, for the sister who doted on him nonetheless, for the mother who never made him feel like the outsider he was, for the father who wanted him to succeed in life irrespective of whether they shared blood or not. Taking a slow, ragged breath, he said, "I will never let any harm befall Nidhi. She is my... my..." His voice turned heavy, croaky, and he was unable to continue.

Shweta sniffled, holding her head in her hands. "She had that eerie feeling the other day because the spirit was after her. My poor baby!" Chomping down on her trembling lips, she said, "Why did you not speak up earlier? Nidhi is in so much danger. You are—"

"I told this boy so many times to keep his head down and study." Avinash began pacing the length of the room, screaming. "But no! You," he pointed at his wife, "had to intervene. Had you not pleaded with me to let him go to Bhangarh, none of this would've happened. Nidhi wouldn't have been in any danger. Rudra wouldn't—"

"I am sorry," Rudra mumbled, springing from his chair too. The mere thought that his family was more and more troubled with their own daughter's well-being and was not concerned about him all that much stung him right where the idiotic blood-pumping organ continued with its rhythmic activity. He had prepared himself to hear the worst, mentally assumed that their natural reaction would be to pack his things and throw him out, but his heart did bleed a little nonetheless when he witnessed it with his own two eyes. Blood's thicker than water, they say, and it had been proven right. So right that Rudra Sharma was moved to tears. Swiftly turning his back to the couple, hiding the sheen of moisture in his eyes, he said, "I am utterly, utterly sorry. I... I never thought things would go out of hand. It's all my fault. Going to Bhangarh, not telling you things, putting our... your Nidhi in danger..."

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