The body was discovered in Calusa, a fifteen-minute drive from Sacramento. The call had come in earlier that morning so the four members of the team showed up at the crime scene in their respective vehicles. The morning was overcast, a shield of grey clouds threatened to unleash their fury but so far held back.
Kabir was the first one of them to make it to the scene but they all showed up one by one and tried to ignore the specter that was hanging over them. For his part, Vansh did what he could to pretend that they all weren't thinking the same thing.
"Body was found this morning by an jogger," Kabir explained as soon as the team stepped up to the scene, "I.D. says he's Jason Mills, twenty three, cash and credit cards are missing."
Angre's eyebrows quirked up at that statement. "Could be a robbery gone wrong."
Vansh was silent as he looked over the scene, studying the dead body in front of him and the surrounding area where he lay. The dark red blood had dried into the white t-shirt, seeping from the two gunshot wounds on his chest. His skin was pale and mottled, a sight he had grown relatively used to over the years of working such scenes. But his interest was more on the victim's appearance, the clothing, the way he was positioned on the ground. Those were the revealing clues.
"Vansh?" Kabir asked, regaining the man's attention.
He looked up. "It's not a robbery."
"They took his credit cards," Angre reminded him.
"And left behind a two-hundred dollar watch," Vansh pointed to the watch peeking out from the sleeve of the victims jacket. "He was left here, it's messy, close to the path, suggests someone panicking and in a hurry. A bad cover up."
Kabir nodded, accepting Vansh's observations quickly. "We'll have to talk to his family, see if he's had any problems with anyone recently."
It was the standard way to start an investigation. They were all doing what they would normally do but there was an obvious difference in the team. It was heard in their voice, seen in the dead look in their eyes, they were all doing what they were supposed to do but the truth was their heart wasn't in it. They all felt like a piece of the unit was missing.
Dr. Ishani knelt down next to the body and began her initial examination. "Two small caliber gunshots to the chest, can't tell you the exact caliber until I get him back to autopsy."
She rearranged the victim's arms, which caused Vansh to catch a glimpse of the victim's open palm. "What's that on his hand?" he asked and pointed to what had caught his eye.
Ishani carefully opened up the victim's fingers with her gloved hands and revealed faded ink. "Looks like a phone number."
"The ink isn't faded beyond readability, he wrote that on his hand in the last day or so," Vansh pointed out.
"I'll get Sara to run it down," Angre declared and pulled out his cell phone to do just that.
Ishani continued her examination but looked up to meet Kabir's eyes. "How is Riddhima?"
And there was the name they had all tried to avoid.
They had needed no reminder that their team leader was absent on this case, it was felt with every breath they took. Unfortunately, her very public outburst at the ill-advised press conference was still making the rounds. The press had done their job, spreading the video and pictures like wildfire. Now everyone looked towards Riddhima's team, questions on the tip of their tongues.
At least Ishani was obviously coming from a place of compassion and not gossip.
"She's getting some help," Kabir told her calmly before turning away.
Vansh looked away himself, holding everything else in. He hadn't told anyone else about what occurred in Riddhima's home immediately following the press conference. He hadn't wanted to burden the rest of the team with more fears of their boss's mental health. They already knew she was breaking. He didn't want them to know just how badly the fractures were.
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Riddhima knew she was going crazy. She was so tired from not sleeping and trying to put on a show for Viraj that she was fine. She wasn't fine. How could she be fine? A part of her wanted to just curl up into the dark and never see anyone again, another part of her just wanted to stand in the middle of a crowded room and shout that she wasn't some object to be pitied. That just because a man raped her didn't mean he'd destroyed her.
But she had a hard time getting herself to believe that last point.
Someone who wasn't shattered wouldn't have all of her mirrors covered or removed. Someone who wasn't losing their mind wouldn't check her locks every ten minutes to make sure she was safe. They wouldn't shower three times a day to make sure they were clean. They wouldn't wake up every night screaming and crying. She wasn't fine; she had a feeling that she would never be fine again.
Viraj knew that too.
It's why he hadn't left yet, why he kept trying to get her eat or sleep or talk about something, anything. She'd heard him talking on the phone with his wife; she knew that he was afraid for her.
"She has nightmares every night and doesn't eat anything…No she still won't let me touch her. No the last time I tried she locked herself in the bathroom for two hours… She won't, she doesn't talk about anything. I don't know what to do."
It was all the same. The pity, the pain, the loss for words. No one knew what to say or how to act around her anymore. Not her team who came by every day in a faux attempt to keep her appraised over what was going on at the CBI, she knew they really just wanted to check up on her. Not her brother who was trying desperately to make things easier for her but was still trying to save the sister that didn't exist anymore. Not the nurses at the hospital who had plastered on fake smiles and tried to assure her that everything would be fine.
Or they had called her Lavinia.
The name struck her again. That busybody nurse had called her Lavinia. Vansh said that it was a character from a Shakespeare play, Titus Andronicus. A bloody tragedy about revenge. And rape.
Lavinia was raped too.
Vansh hadn't told her much; she could tell that he was keeping a lot from her. What else happened in the play? What really happened to Lavinia? Riddhima had to know, she needed to find out. If no one in her world could understand what she was feeling than perhaps a fictional character would.
Riddhima decided on a plan of action quickly. Grabbing her purse and her car keys and the necessary sunglasses before heading downstairs. Viraj protested her leaving, then offered to drive her himself but she refused. She needed to get away, needed to do this alone.
She considered going to the public library but she'd never had the need to go there before, besides she didn't have a library card anyways. Instead she went to her favorite bookstore. She checked her appearance in the rearview mirror; the large sunglasses hid the bruises on her face and around her eyes fairly well. Her clothing had been chosen specifically to hide the injuries on her body; the large sleeves of the sweatshirt even hid her cast except for the part that was at her hand. As long as she kept her glasses on than no one would have any reason to notice her.
That fact didn't stop her from feeling like every eye was on her the minute that stepped through the door. She couldn't shake the idea that people could see she had been raped just by looking at her, as if there was a sign printed on her forehead that declared her shame to the world. Riddhima kept her head down and headed straight for the classics.
Practically a whole case was devoted to Shakespeare, it wasn't a surprise; the bard was still a major topic in almost every literary circle. It didn't take Riddhima long to find the play she was searching for.
Titus Andronicus was tucked away behind a copy of Romeo and Juliet and The Tempest. Riddhima selected the small volume and began to flip through it. She didn't have Vansh's gift for knowledge, it took her a few reads and ample help from the cliff notes to completely understand exactly what the characters were saying.
She scanned the pages for any mention of Lavinia but things didn't start to become relevant until the second act. That was when the mention of Philomela and Lucrece first appeared. The cliff notes said that Philomela came from Greek mythology and Lucrece was from Roman myth. The circumstances were different as Philomela was eventually turned into a nightingale and Lucrece committed suicide. But they did have one thing in common.
They had both been raped.
With the help of one of the floor clerks Riddhima eventually bought a copy of Titus Andronicus, The Rape of Lucrece, and Ovid's Metamorphisis.
When she finally returned home she avoided telling Viraj anything about her purchases but escaped to her bedroom as soon as possible. Now she could devote her time to fully exploring these three characters.
But Riddhima found herself especially drawn to Lavinia. Act I of the play had little to do with her beyond her turning down the marriage to the new emperor and instead fleeing to marry the man she really loved, the emperor's brother. That was sweet but Riddhima knew that this play wasn't going to have a happy ending.
Act II began with dread. Tamora's sons squabbled over their lust for Lavinia with Aaron giving them the idea that they should rape her. "There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven's eye / And revel in Lavinia's treasury"
Did her rapist plan it too? Had he been wrestling with feelings of darkness and lust and searched for the perfect opportunity to satisfy it? The thought made Riddhima feel sick but she was determined to keep reading.
The third scene of the second act was where the horror for Lavinia began. After watching her husband being killed by Chiron and Demetrius she was told what their plans for her were. She begged Tamora for mercy, to kill her rather than allow her sons to rape her. "O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust, / And tumble me into some loathsome pit / Where never man's eye may behold my body."
Worse-than-killing lust. Riddhima thought that was a perfect description. She had that same feeling, that same terrible thought that it would have been nicer to have died rather than live, she wouldn't have been tormented at least. She hated thinking it…but couldn't stop it either.
But Tamora didn't care for Lavinia's pleas and Lavina was literally dragged away to be raped. Riddhima knew that feeling as well. For a moment she closed her eyes and quietly relived that moment when her attacker had her arms pinned to her side and his hand buried in her hair, dragging her away towards the alley where he could take his time with her.
Riddhima felt her body start to shake and she took in a few deep breaths. The moments that occurred after she had been dragged away from the window threatened to make an appearance but she refused to deal with that now. There was still more to read.
The next scene featured Lavinia again but Riddhima wasn't entirely prepared for what had happened. Chiron and Demetrius hadn't been content with just raping Lavinia. No, they had also cut off her hands and tongue to keep her from ever telling anyone who had done it.
She'd been mutilated.
Riddhima gaped at the text in horror but couldn't stop herself from reading Chiron and Demetrius's taunts to Lavinia who was unable to protest anything anymore. All she could do was stand silently and no doubt cry.
Oh God, no adjective could describe that torment.
She had been raped and beaten, her wrist broken and her blood spilt but her physical wounds could heal. She could still speak even if she didn't want to. But like Lavinia, she too couldn't identify her rapist. Not from any physical impediment but the simple fact that she had no idea who had committed the crime.
In this instance, both of them were silent.
Eventually Chiron and Demetrius stopped their taunts and left. Then Lavinia's uncle, Marcus, found her. His long monologue was poignant as he slowly recognized what happened to his niece. Finally he ushered her away with the words "Come, let us go make your father blind."
Riddhima reread Marcus's monologue several times, trying to fully capture what was written on the page. But she couldn't stop herself from thinking about something else. How like Lavinia, someone had found her after the act.
Vansh.
It was still blur but she could distinctly remember his voice, the warmth of his body and comfort of his arms holding her close to him. He'd whispered soothing words to her, little lies that made her feel calm and at peace. But most of all it had been the smell of his skin and cologne and that indescribable scent that was just Vansh. The same scent that had started her heart racing on the dance floor had also made her realize that she was safe.
She quietly put the books aside, not wishing to relive anymore of her experiences. She knew now that she had been right, she did feel a real connection with these characters but she didn't want to face that right now.
Instead Riddhima curled up, hugging her pillow close and shut her eyes. She pretended that she was in Vansh's arms again, letting the smell of him envelope her completely. This was what made her feel safe and secure, like she wasn't falling apart. Only this.
Only Vansh.
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The new case worked as a distraction for Riddhima's team, but they all knew it was only a temporary relief. The phone calls, searches, records only served to numb the reminder that Riddhima's case was still unsolved. But they did have a job to do.
Angre and Kabir still did field work. Sara still checked on back accounts, records and every other computer program she had available to find leads. Vansh still did his tricks, flying by the seat of his pants in his way that always produced results.
The only thing missing was Riddhima.
No one begrudged Kabir his temporary promotion, but not even he liked it.
The bullpen was quiet when he walked in. Angre and Sara were its only occupants, Vansh hadn't even left any bread crumbs behind. Not a surprise, but there was always a reason Riddhima had felt uneasy when Vansh pulled a disappearing act.
"Anything?" he asked to the team.
"Still going through his contacts," Angre said.
"I'm running a program on his hard drive," Sara said, "Nothing yet."
Kabir nodded. "Where's Vansh?"
Angre and Sara looked at one another and then he shrugged. "You know him. He'll call when he has something."
"Right." Still, it didn't sit well being kept in the dark. Riddhima had always managed to figure out where Vansh was. Those two had a bond. Of all the people in the world, Vansh trusted her the most. Kabir knew Vansh wouldn't hold this against him, but he couldn't help but regret it himself. All of them wanted Riddhima back.
When he sat down at his desk he could see the binds to Riddhima's office were closed and dark. She hadn't been in there since the press conference and no one dared to touch it. He noticed that Angre looked towards the vacant office as well. A few seconds later, Sara was peaking over her shoulder. How long would this go on, all of them unable to ignore the empty place in their team?
They all looked away at the same moment and wound up colliding their gazes together, sheepishly looking down when they realized they all shared the same thoughts. It was Sara who spoke first. "Do you think…she's doing…is she…?"
"Vansh wouldn't have come in today if she wasn't," Angre answered for her. It didn't mean Riddhima was better, just slightly improved from her disaster at the press conference.
But that brought up the other thing: Vansh. Or actually, Vansh being able to touch Riddhima when she would allow no one else to. None of them had missed that. Also, none of them understood what it meant. It wasn't anything new, Vansh knowing something and keeping them in the dark until he deemed it right, but this was about Riddhima. Now they were all burning for answers.
"Have you seen her or talked to her at all since…?" Sara didn't have to finish. The press conference was imprinted permanently in their memories.
"No," Kabir said.
"I didn't think she needed my company," Angre said, his words slow and full of meaning.
"But Vansh has," Sara stated. She looked down and spoke to the floor. "He's who she needs right now."
"Seems like it," Kabir said.
"She let him touch her."
Kabir nodded. The silence that fell was heavy, crushing almost. It was Angre who tried to soften it. "This is a good thing."
"I know," Sara said, "But is it only him? Does this mean she's getting better?"
"Maybe," Angre said hopefully, "Maybe she's starting to trust people again."
Kabir let out a sigh and shook his head. "You saw what happened with Ranbir."
"Yeah, but that was Ranbir," Sara said, "She's never liked him. It's different with us. We're her team, she trusts us."
Angre nodded and pointed to her. "That's true, we've known her for a long time. She knows we'd never hurt her."
"You're right, she knows we won't hurt her," Kabir agreed, but his voice lacked any cheer, "But I don't think she's over this."
"Well no, but this is a start," Sara said.
"No, I mean I don't think she'd let us touch her like she let Vansh."
Both of his teammates gave him matching frowns of confusion. Their eyes spoke of their concern, concern that he was right. That he was dashing their brief bit of hope. "You know them," he said, "You know there's always been some connection there. I don't think she's back to trusting anyone completely yet…except Vansh. Just him."
They were silent after that. Angre propped his elbows up onto his desk and cradled his head in his hands. Meanwhile, Sara twisted her fingers into knots on her lap. He hated destroying what little optimism they had, but they couldn't live in a fantasy world. Riddhima was hurt. She wasn't going to magically get better. Worse than that, they could do very little to help her.
"Why him?" Sara asked.
"It doesn't matter," Kabir said, "He can touch her, he can help her. Our job is to let him."
She nodded calmly. Angre looked up over his hands and met his eyes. "Do you think Vansh knows all of this?"
"Why else would he be hiding right now?"
Vansh wasn't a coward by any means, but he now had the responsibility of helping his boss and best friend heal from the worst kind of pain. Any one of them would be hiding right then. Not one of them could blame him.
They could only hope he could do it.
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Riddhima probably wouldn't have cooperated with Dr. Nancy Cargill even if she'd had a good day. She didn't really trust psychiatrists, she certainly didn't want to have to sit in a chair and talk about how she was feeling. For most of her life Riddhima had done everything she could to keep her feelings locked away from anyone else's eyes. Now she was supposed to be an open book.
It didn't help that she was already humiliated. That morning she'd had to return to the hospital to make sure her injuries were healing properly. She'd been poked and prodded for a while as they had checked her stitches and her broken wrist. The worst part had been when she had to open her legs again for another exam. In the end Riddhima had just felt numb, like her private parts were just public property now, what was the point in trying to maintain any decorum of modesty?
After that terrible morning, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to a shrink.
Dr. Nancy Cargill was patient though; she quietly waited in the seat across from Riddhima with notebook and pen in hand.
Finally the silence did her in. "Aren't you going to ask me any questions?" Riddhima said.
Dr. Cargill smiled softly. "I thought that we would start by talking about what you wanted to focus on." Her British accent made her voice sound sweet and melodic.
"I don't want to focus on anything, I don't even want to be here."
"That is not an uncommon feeling in situations like this."
"Situations like what?" Riddhima asked, "Situations with cops or rape victims? Because I'm both, I bet that is a first for you."
She made a note on the pad in her hand. "You categorized your assault with your profession. Would you like to explain why you did that?"
"Not really," Riddhima admitted and looked away, out towards the window that looked over the street below.
"Would you be willing to talk about what happened to you?"
"You know what happened to me."
"Yes but I would like to hear it from you."
Riddhima turned back to the woman with fake apathy. "I was at a fundraiser. I was attacked. I was raped. There you heard it."
Dr. Cargill made another note on her pad and turned her attention back towards her patient. "You seem to be minimizing the effect your attack had on you."
"Well I just want to forget about it."
"You don't really believe that is possible."
"Is this how it is going to be?" Riddhima asked. "You telling me how I feel? You don't know how I feel, you can't understand."
Dr. Cargill nodded. "You're right. Which is why I'm asking you these questions, so I can learn more about your state of mind." Riddhima looked away, rolling her eyes a little bit. If the other woman noticed, she didn't mention it. "I get the feeling that you don't trust me."
Riddhima sighed and looked back at her. "It's not you…it's what you are. I don't like shrinks. The last one I was forced to talk to tried to frame me for murder."
She smiled a little. "Yes I suppose that would cause some form of mistrust." Dr. Cargill made a note on her pad again. "Have you been having any trouble sleeping?"
"Excuse me?"
"It is important to know what effects you have been enduring."
Riddhima looked away. "I'm fine." But even that sounded lame to her ears. "All right, I have a hard time sleeping."
"Why is that?"
"I have nightmares," she admitted, "every night."
She marked on the pad again. "Would you be willing to describe them?"
"No."
This time the doctor sighed. "That's all right. Why don't we move on to something else?
Riddhima was quiet for a moment as she tried to find a way to get out of this. "How long are we supposed to do this? How many sessions? Three? Four?"
"I'm afraid that there is no set number," she explained, "these sessions will continue as long as necessary and I cannot authorize you to go back to work until I feel you are ready."
"So basically I'm at your mercy."
"Riddhima, I am trying to help you come to terms with what has happened."
"I don't need to come to terms with anything," Riddhima replied. "I don't need someone crawling around inside of my head and telling me what I am thinking. I already have a man who does that on a daily basis."
Dr. Cargill raised her eyebrows. "Who is this man?"
Riddhima hadn't been expecting that one. "Uh…oh just a friend, colleague, of mine."
"Not both?"
She hesitated before finally admitting. "He is…but I don't want to talk about Vansh." Riddhima looked around and then at her watch. "How long are these sessions supposed to last?"
"Normally one hour but if you are uncomfortable than you can leave early if you would like."
Riddhima was caught off guard. "Really?"
Dr. Cargill nodded. "I want you to feel at ease with me, Riddhima. It will make our sessions together much smoother that way."
She didn't hesitated. Riddhima stood up immediately. "Okay then, well this has been lovely but I really should go."
She was halfway to the door when Dr. Cargill spoke. "Before you leave I would like to give you this." She tore off a piece of paper and handed it to Riddhima, "It's a prescription for Amitriptyline. It's to help you sleep at night."
Riddhima paused suddenly remembering a time four years ago when she had called up a shrink for Vansh so he could get some sleeping pills. Of course it turned out to be an elaborate ruse that Vansh had created to catch the killer. It just felt strange…now she was the one who needed help.
When had she and Vansh switched roles?
But she wanted to get out of there so she just grabbed the paper and left the office as quickly as possible.
Viraj was leaning up against her car with a dollar drink from a fast food chain and his phone in his hand. He looked up when he heard her footsteps. "You're done already?"
"Yeah," Riddhima told him. "It was great really. I think we made some real progress."
He nodded but he obviously didn't believe her. "That bad huh?"
She groaned and hauled herself into the passenger seat. Viraj was refusing to let her drive at the moment. "I really don't want to talk about it, especially since I spent the past thirty minutes talking."
He smiled and turned on the engine but then noticed the slip of paper in her hand. "What's that?"
Riddhima looked down at the paper and tried to think of a lie that would keep her from being so embarrassed. "It's nothing." Damn, Vansh was right, she was a terrible liar. "Alright, it's a prescription she gave me for sleeping pills."
Viraj raised his eyebrows and then nodded his head. "Okay, we can stop by the pharmacy on the way home."
"What? No! I don't need sleeping pills!"
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't."
"What is the big deal?" He asked, clearly taken aback by her stubborn refusal on the matter. "It's just some pills that will help you sleep."
"I don't need help," Riddhima replied firmly.
"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm handling this fine."
"Riddhima," Viraj explained with a raised voice. "You spend all day looking over your shoulder, showering three or four times, and checking your locks. You spend half of the night watching crappy T.V. or staring at the ceiling. Then when you finally do fall asleep, you wake up screaming. Then you go take another shower and go back downstairs until the sun finally rises so you can start the routine all over again."
He looked away and slammed one hand on the steering wheel. Riddhima looked down at her hands. She'd thought she'd been doing a good job keeping this from Viraj; apparently she'd failed miserably. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Viraj sighed. "Don't apologize. Just…just let me make sure that you can at least get some sleep."
Riddhima still looked down but she nodded weakly. "Okay."
He finally put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. Riddhima kept her eyes out towards the window and tried to blink back the tears.
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As soon as she got home Riddhima shut herself up in her room again. She'd been doing a bit more than lying in her bed though, now she had several books to keep her company as she tried to truly sort out everything she was feeling. She didn't buy the idea that talking to some therapist was going to help her, no matter how nice she seemed. She couldn't explain it but she had this feeling that maybe the answers would lie in these characters, it didn't make sense and it was painful…but reading through their suffering…it made her feel like she wasn't alone.
She had more than just her books though, she'd smuggled up her laptop as well. For hours before her therapy session she'd used her favorite search engine to look up these characters. First Lavinia, then Lucrece and Philomela. Each character led her in different directions. Lucrece's twisted story of sadness and rape didn't end with her suicide, but rather her death sparked the rise of the Roman republic. In fact, every major Roman event seemed to have started with rape, Romulus and Remus's mother was raped by the god Mars. The rape of the Sabine women led to the founding of Rome, and the rape of Virginius's daughter led to the creation of the Tribunes. In Rome, rape was a terrible shame for the father or the husband, not just for the woman, and the logical way to end that shame was to kill her.
Riddhima had moved on to Philomela after that, whose story was no less grotesque. Her sister's husband lusted after her, eventually tricking her into a secluded house and raping her. When she threatened to tell all, he cut out her tongue. So she weaved a tapestry to tell her sister, Procne, about what happened. Procne retaliated by killing her son and feeding him to her husband before fleeing with her sister. Like the Romans, the Greeks had an odd fascination with rape in their mythology. It was commonplace for the gods to rape or "ravish" the mortal women; there was some confusion with seduction and rape though. Abduction was common too such as Europa and Persephone.
In the end Riddhima was once again drawn to Lavinia. She looked up the play Titus Andronicus and found a lot of writings about the play but mostly they were critical about the amount of violence and the graphic nature that occurred. She found some writings on Lavinia, but they were more about her role as the victim whose crime instigated the violence. How her silence and mutilation begets a horrifying image that stays on the stage.
But what caught her eye was the fact that a well-received film of the play had been released. Titus with Anthony Hopkins, from the images it looked to be an odd melding of modernity with Shakespeare. While the bizarre nature of it wasn't something Riddhima was particularly keen on…she couldn't shake the desire to see Lavinia come to life.
So after her awful therapy session she went back upstairs and thanked God that she was living in the digital age of Amazon and Netflix where all it took to download almost any film was the push of a button.
The film unfolded on her computer screen. She sat back and watched, glancing at the text that was by now marked with her own highlights and notes. Lavinia remained largely silent in the opening act, even as the brothers quarreled for her hand and fled with Bassianus. As before, the real action didn't begin until the second act as Tamora's sons with the tutelage of Aaron, decided to rape Lavinia.
They fought and acted like children at first, but grew calmer and listened to Aaron's horrific advice. It was like watching evil take root and flourish in two dark souls as they giddily ran off to follow through with their plans.
Then the scene followed that Riddhima knew would be truly awful.
When Tamora and her sons circled Lavinia and Bassianus like predators stalking their prey, she could not help but feel their fear. It was and it only grew worse from there. As Bassianus lay dead, Chiron and Demetrius all but pounced on Lavinia as a cat would to a mouse, their greedy hands roughly caressing her body. It was so much like in her dreams, when loathsome touch left a trail of revulsion over her own skin.
Her pain only increased as Lavinia begged for mercy, her attackers tormented her further. Demetrius laved her hand with his tongue and Riddhima actually scrunched her eyes shut, she could still remember the way it felt to have him lick her cheek…like an animal. Then they literally cut away the buttons on her dress, baring her skin their gaze. When they dragged her away with her screaming Riddhima couldn't take it anymore. She shut her laptop quickly and did what she could to control her trembling.
In some ways it felt like she was watching her own rape. She knew those feelings, knew what it was like to have someone tear her clothes and "satisfy his lust" on her. She knew what it was like to be the prey. There was no need to imagine this…all she had to do was remember.
It took a while for Riddhima to gather up the courage to continue watching the film. The fallout from the murder of Bassianus and the framing of Titus's two sons. Riddhima watched, waiting for Lavinia to appear again.
And then she did.
She was balancing on a tree stump in only her white shift that was stained with her blood. Her hands were gone, replaced with branches, and the only sound she could now utter was a pitiful moan. Her rapists taunted her with cruel words, mocking her fate. Then she was alone.
What had she been thinking in those moments of loneliness? Had she been focused on shame and pity? Was she afraid? Riddhima thought back to that time when she had been left alone. It was all a blur, a blur of lights and blackness. They said she'd been in shock. Maybe Lavinia was as well.
Marcus found her soon though. He somberly walked towards his niece in disbelief, urging her to speak, to tell him who did this to her. Then Lavinia opened her mouth and blood poured out in a gruesome answer. Her uncle's look of shock and horror reminded Riddhima of the one image that remained vivid in her mind.
Vansh's face, that same mixture of shock and horror when he found her in the parking lot. She remembered hating that look, feeling ashamed that he was seeing her like that. That shame had never left, she still hated that he was seeing her now, in this pathetic state.
And like herself, Lavinia was carried away in a gentle embrace. Her uncle cradled her in his arms to safety. Vansh had done that too. Maybe Lavinia felt that same comfort, that same safety in her uncle's arms. Maybe it was the one purely good moment that she could cling to in all of that, maybe Lavinia tried to hold on to that feeling. But Riddhima knew well that the feeling did not last long.
The film continued until Lavinia managed a feat that Riddhima had not…she identified her attackers. It was a powerful scene where she managed to scratch out in the dirt their names. Was it empowering? Did it make her feel like she was regaining some measure of control? Immediately afterwards her family vowed revenge and justice…that was something Riddhima longed for.
But she didn't have that. She never saw him; she still didn't have a name or a face. She wasn't like Lavinia. She couldn't tell her team who he was, she couldn't write his name and break the silence, she couldn't take back the control that had been robbed from her. In that regard…she was a failure.
And revenge Lavinia received. Chiron and Demetrius were captured and chained, while Titus explained exactly what he would do to them, they finally trembled in fear just as Lavinia did. They were silent as Lavinia now was. And finally, Titus cut their throats while Lavinia caught the blood in a bowl. But it was her smile that Riddhima was most captivated by, a small smile of pleasure at watching the men who destroyed her finally meet their end. After which, she seemed almost at peace…almost. She was even serene in her death.
Would she get that chance? What did she want, justice or revenge? What would happen if he was caught? She knew that. He would be put in jail until a jury of her peers decided whether or not he was guilty. She had to put all of her trust in twelve strangers who didn't know her and didn't care. And even if they did decide in her favor, he would be put in prison where he would be clothed and fed, there would be no pain, no suffering. Not like her.
She wanted him to feel her pain. Bloody thoughts clutched her mind and refused to leave. What would it be like to take a knife to him? To watch him slowly bleed, to have him beg for mercy just as she did. Riddhima's lips twitched upwards at the thought. It was pleasant, the idea of him being at her mercy and denying it. Maybe then she would feel powerful again. Maybe then she wouldn't feel any shame.
But those thoughts shriveled and died.
It was all well and good to think about revenge…except she had no idea who he was. And she had no one to blame for this but herself. It was her failure.
Her shame.
To Be Continued.....