A week has passed, it’s the meeting day and everyone is out meeting their relatives. 

Mishti isn’t particularly sad because she has been fortunate enough to be able to meet her friends through legal methods, and her brother, well, through not so legal procedures. Also, the latter is busy looking for Tara, as he had promised her in their last meeting with an underlying emotion in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher. But that's ok, she trusts her brother completely and so isn’t too wistful regarding him not being able to meet her.

Though for some reason her body denies taking part in her contentment, feeling restless, hands sweating and temple refusing to forego the tensed lines. 

Maybe it is because of being cooped up in a cell for most part of the day or thinking about the things that she shouldn’t be thinking about like her undeserved punishment, the thought if she will ever be able to get out of this place or not and…. Samrat. 

Samrat Agnihotri who has once again stepped in her life, shifting its centre with the worry in his words and desperation in his eyes. One moment and he has dissembled her all over again, lain down her inhibitions and entered her mind. 

She fears him entering her heart.

“Mishti….”

“Mishti!”

“Huh?” Mishti is let out of her reverie when Raima calls her name.

“Yeah?” she asks, hands still fidgeting.

Her friend gives her a small smile, extending a bottle of water towards her. “Here, have some water. You look like you’ll pass out any moment.” 

Mishti looks at the bottle and then at Raima, giving her a grateful smile. “That’s nice of you.” She says as she drinks the water.

“When did you come back though? Didn’t you go to meet your people?” Mishti asks while Raima chuckles, but the laugh has a certain undertone to it. 

“I will. Soon.” She says and Mishti nods.

A calmness overcomes her senses as soon as she drinks the water, letting out a relieved sigh. It feels as if everything will be all right, her brother will come to her any moment now, she’ll meet her friends, and her heart and mind wouldn’t be battling with each other in respect to Samrat. 

Mishti smiles, closing her eyes. “Thanks for the water….” She slurs, letting out another content sigh though when she doesn’t get a reply, in turn, Mishti squints her eyes open. 

“Raima?” she calls out, but the girl is nowhere in sight, instead there are a pair of legs in front of her, standing upright clad in khaki brown, a man wearing what seems like the police uniform.

Police uniform….

“Bhai!” Mishti gasps excited, looking up towards the person who was supposed to be her brother. 

He isn’t. 

Mishti pouts. “You aren’t bhai!” she complains and the man standing in front of her gives her a malicious smile. 

“Of course, not. Your bhai won’t do what I’m going to do with you.” The man says crouching in front of her in one swift moment, getting a hold of her face, pinching her cheeks together. 

The action comes as a thunderclap bringing Mishti to her senses whose eyes immediately widen as she takes in the face of a constable so close to hers, pushing him away.

Her movements come out sloppy.

“Y-You! What are you doing here? How did you get inside?” she asks looking around frantically. “Raima, where is she? Raima!”

Mishti yells but no one answers. She faces the man again and glares at him. “I told you to stay away from me, didn’t I? If you – If you try to do anything with me, I’ll kill you.” She threatens but the man is in no way taking her seriously. Neither is her body because just as she says that, an intense ache stems in her head making her dizzy and nauseated at the same time.

“Oh yeah? What will you do? Hit me? Punch me?” he asks later and grabs her hand first putting handcuffs on them in a quick second. Mishti struggles but to no avail. 

Pathetic tears starts pooling in her eyes when the man starts putting a cloth in her mouth. 

“Bhai! Bhai” she shrieks, squirming as far away as she can from the man. He grunts impatiently. 

“Bhai!” her words come out muffled but her brother isn’t there to listen.

“Keep quiet, you fool. There is no one to listen to you today. Only these empty cells and walls.” The constable laughs maliciously.

Mishti doesn’t deter though when she goes to call out one last time, a sudden jerk to her head puts her words on a pause. 

“Samra –”

Mishti shriek out as the man pulls at her hair, her tied hands uselessly tugging at each other. 

The man smirks looking down at her. “Where is your karate, your self-defence, I don’t see you struggling for your life too much. You too want th –”

Mishti does it. 

With a moment of courage and all the strength in her body, she stands up on her feet against the pressure on her head and kicks the man in his groin who lets out an immediate yelp, his hands leaving Mishti in favour of safeguarding his organ. 

Mishti runs to the prison gate, trying to open it with her foot, only to find it locked. 

From outside. 

Her mind takes her to the worst conclusion, the one she doesn’t want to even think about but unfortunately, the proof is standing right in front of her, the keys of the prison door dangling through her fingers, her own hands free of any bondage, body clad in a dress that doesn’t belong to prisoners.

There stands Raima, all free. 

“I’m sorry, Mishti,” Raima says, and Mishti shakes her head, mind fogging.

“I…I didn’t want to do this. I honestly thought of you as a friend, enjoyed the time I spent with you but….” Mishti doesn’t want to hear it. She wants to shut her ears off, close her eyes forever. “I want to be free, Mishti. I’ve been here way longer than you and would have been here longer than you’d ever be. I want to get out now. He told me that if I could help him only once, he’ll let me go.”

Tears pool in Mishti’s eyes. Tears of disgust, helplessness, and betrayal. 

She chews the cloth in her mouth, trying to speak, say the words that she’ll never get to say. 

“I had offered myself to him, but he wanted you. It won’t take long, just a few minutes and it would be –”

Mishti lets out a muffled scream at those words, tears flowing down her red-rimmed eyes. 

“I am sorry.” The girl says but she doesn’t look sorry.

The last thing Mishti remembers is the man getting on his feet from behind her, letting out a frustrated roar, ready to charge on her.

She waits for a hit that never comes and passes out before she has the chance to witness the face of her saviour.

*

A groan escapes Mishti’s mouth, her hand automatically landing on her head to tone down the ache as soon as her eyes flutter open. 

Everything is bright, she notes. Too white.

“…. can you listen to us? Mishti! Oh, God!” A series of words barrels through her ears from her right side but when she turns her neck to view the source, her neck throbs. She resorts to looking in the front.

“Where am I?” she asks tasting the dryness in her mouth, unable to swallow her saliva. She looks around again.

This doesn’t seem like her cell.

Neither does the voice match Raima’s.

Raima.

Cell.

The constable.

Mishti’s heart beats frantically in her chest as her mind clouds with the distorted images from what happened with her. 

Did he….?

A sob leaves her mouth at the thought, her mind unable to recognize the hands caressing her hair.

It’s only when a loud ‘Chutki!’ leaves the owner’s mouth, does Mishti open her eyes, her blurred gaze landing on her brother.

“Oh God, Chutki…you’re awake. Thank you, God, thank you.” Her brother sits beside her, who Mishti notes is in the uniform of a doctor. Still disguising. Still not free. But she doesn’t spare a moment before burying her face in her brother’s chest, her free hand that isn’t restrained by what seems like the IV infusion, clutches at her brother’s shirt, his arms in turn coming to quickly envelop her safely.

“I’m sorry, Chutki…I’m so sorry. I should have realised it sooner, should have known why you feared that uniform…” Her brother cries in her hair and Mishti does too. She can’t remember what happened with her, if something did or not but all she remembers is the shivers that had run down her spine when that constable had tried to touch her and the scream that had escaped her mouth when he had tried to…

“Bhai – Bhai…. did something h-happen? Did he – did he….” She’s unable to word out her entire question, too scared to listen to the answer, the lack of bruises or pain on her body apart from her wrists, giving her a slight hope. 

Mihir pauses apologizing for a moment. He pulls back from her, pushing the tresses of hair away from her face, wiping her tears and then his own.

He shakes his head. “No, Chutki. He didn't hurt you. At least not physically.” Her brother says brokenly. "Nothing happened. Before that bastard could do anything, Aisha reached there. That animal couldn’t….” This time it is her brother who breaks down, yet again pulling Mishti to his chest to which she goes willingly. “I’m sorry, Chutki…. I had – I had promised to protect you forever, but I couldn’t – I couldn’t be a good brother to you. I’m the worst. I’m sorry, my lovely, I’m so sorry.”

Mishti is wistful too, her eyes not stopping the waterfall, yet she finds in herself to comfort her brother, to tell him that he has protected her till now and is sure that will do in the future. 

She says and yet there is a part of herself that is plays the images that her mind retains on a loop, scaring her every moment. 

She feels as if that man would come in front of her and finish the incomplete task anytime.

Another weight falls to her side, a pair of arms capturing her in them.

“I’m so happy that you are safe, Mishti.” Aisha murmurs, resting her head on her shoulder, nuzzling her face at the spot making Mishti conjure up a small smile. “And I am sorry for reaching there so late, we all are.” She says and Mishti frowns. 

“All?” she asks because she has no idea what happened to her. She is unable to recall anything.

Did her brother come to her rescue? Aisha? Vivek?

Will the police come and take her back to the cell?

“No, Mishti,” Aisha answers making her realize that she might have said those questions aloud.

“They will not come to take you away. They have granted you bail.” Aisha says and Mishti’s eyes widen at the revelation and seeing the way her brother imitates the action, the words are news to him as well.

“He got you bail. Samrat. I don’t know how but he did. And he was the one who reached to you first, who made the police throw Raima back in jail and who – who has put that constable in coma. If we hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed him. There was blood all over. His hands, and that bastard's face.”

“Samrat? Samrat Agnihotri, our target?” Mihir asks, confused, his hold involuntarily tightening on his sister.

Aisha nods. 

Mishti passes out yet again.