"Write to me every day. Take care of yourself and do not fret. All will be well."

A red-eyed Cecelia placed a moist kiss on the forehead of her brother. In response, Colin held her in a tight embrace. His eyes, too, grew teary at the thought of parting from his sister. She was perhaps the only person in the world who cared about him. Who loved him for love's sake, not because he was her brother. There was nothing more he appreciated than that.

"You take care of yourself as well," he said, releasing her from the embrace. "And don't elope with anyone until I am back." He added with a trembling smile.

Cecilia gave him a snotty laugh. "You will never stop teasing me, will you?"

"Not until I am dead, at least."

"Don't say that!"

With a grin, Colin picked the trunk that lay near his feet. He and Cecelia made their way towards the staircase, which led to the parlour of the residence. No one was there at that moment. The two servants, who were allotted to Colin, were both outside to prepare the carriage that would take him to the station. They had drawn the curtains, restricting the first light of the day from entering the bungalow.

As they reached the front door, Colin put a hand in the pocket of his forest green trouser and produced a brass key. He turned around to face his sister and handed the key to her. She frowned.

"What is this for?"

"This is the key to this house. Don't lose it, because if you do, then you could not go outside or let someone in." Colin instructed. "Keep it safe."

"Alright, Colin." Cecilia said, taking the key from him. "Again, how soon can I expect you to be back?"

"Two weeks. A month at most. Sooner, if I can kind the killer quickly," Colin replied. "Wish me luck. Because God knows how much I need it."

"I pray you may find what you seek for." Cecelia's eyes glowed with pride for her elder brother. "You will make our father so proud."

Colin smiled. "I hope to do that. Farewell, sister."

Giving her one last hug, Colin opened the door and stepped into the open. Immediately, he was washed in the golden sunlight that had blanketed all things around it with an unmatched warmth. He was blinded for a moment, but did not feel uncomfortable. His heart fluttered like a butterfly in the middle of a grove filled with flowers of all scents and colours. The sun burnt all the doubts of the night.

Nishikantopur might be the last place he wanted to be in - but it would also be the place where he would prove his worth.

Colin's white shirt rippled in the slight morning breeze. He wore a delightful smile on his lips as he walked down the cobbled pathway to the main gate of the bungalow. Upon reaching his destination, he found the gates were kept ajar. Just outside it stood the sleek carriage with the coachman sitting atop it, dressed in a faded yellow kurta and a rugged dhoti. The servants stood right beside the carriage and, upon spotting their master, one of them came forward.

"Please give that trunk to me, babu. It is too heavy for you to carry."

"No, no. It is alright," Colin shook his head. "I will take this myself."

"But, babu-"

"I really mean it. None of you have to carry this trunk. I am quite comfortable carrying it myself."

The servant bowed his head. Colin smiled at him and bid the man farewell with a wave of his hand. He trudged towards the carriage. The other servant pulled open the door to the carriage. First, he pushed his trunk inside and then he himself went in. As soon as he settled in his seat, Colin pulled the door closed. A sigh of relief unsettled the tiny dust particles around him as the carriage rumbled along the roads of Calcutta.

I am going. I really am going. After days of indecision and reluctance, he was starting his journey to this hamlet. Colin's mind was still in awe of it. Even then, as the vibrations of the carriage wheels racked his body, it felt like a dream. A bizarre dream that was taking over his life, one step at a time.

"I am at my wit's end about what to do with you, Colin. Your sister is a girl and thus she can be married off. But what about you? When will I be able to make a man out of you?"

The phantom words of his father echoed in his ears, severing the dreamlike moment. His cheeks burnt in their remembrance. Those words said to him almost a decade ago were something he would never forget. And on that momentous day in his life, they came to haunt him again. As it had done ever since his father uttered those words.

A single teardrop rolled down his left cheek. Colin clutched the handle of his trunk. The memory of what happened that day elicited such a reaction replayed in his mind as he sat alone in the dark carriage. He was with his father and a few of his friends on a hunting trip. A man in the hunting party had shot down a buck. Upon seeing that buck, lying helpless in a pool of its own blood but still alive, little Colin had shuddered. But when his father knelt down to slash open its throat, he screamed. Tears followed suit. He begged them to let it go.

How could he not? Maybe those men blinded by senseless blood thirst failed to notice, but the poor child that Colin was, saw the glimmer of pleading in the animal's eyes - please let me go.

As usual, no one heeded him. The day after, his father hurried him home and on the way told him those exact words. How someone could say that to their own child was still a wonder to him. But that was how his father was like. So unlike uncle Duncan, who preferred people as they were and not because of what they could be. Sometimes Colin wished to be his uncle's son rather than his father's. He wiped his cheek with the back of his palm. Now, life gave him another chance. He would solve Frederick's murder and prove to his father that he was indeed a man in every sense of the word.

Perhaps a better man than his father could ever dream of being.

~•~

"But my Abhay died because of her! Why must she go unpunished, maasaheb?"

A small group of people occupied the floor of the courtyard in the zamindar house in Nishikantopur. In their midst sat Lalita on a stool while Priyamvada and Kumudini stood beside her. She was decked in a regal red saree with a jewel embedded choker around her neck. Priyamvada and Kumudini had dressed similarly, with Priyamvada dressed in a pale pink garment, while Kumudini's saree was a bright orange one. Thick gold bangles adorned both their hands.

Lalita wore a disgruntled frown on her face as the bereaved mother of the dead moneylender spat curses upon curses on his third wife, who sat right behind her mother-in-law, still dressed in the rich garb of an Indian bride. She was held in the tight embrace of her fellow co-wives, who whispered assurances into her ears. Her face was pallid with fear. Lalita's heart sank to see that the poor girl was no older than fourteen, even younger than the previous two wives of Abhay. Yet his mother refused to see any sense and put meaningless blame on the poor girl.

"Abhay Babu did not die because of his new wife," Lalita said after a moment's silence. "You know what happened. A wild animal attacked his entourage."

"It was a demon!" The mother exclaimed. Her aanchal that she had put on her head came loose at that moment. "No animal can do that to a man. He was torn to pieces, maasaheb. Pieces!" A fresh bout of tears welled out of her eyes.

Lalita leaned forward. "Demon or no demon, we can agree that your new daughter-in-law had nothing to do with the death of her husband. Are you not relieved that nothing happened to her?"

"I wish she had died instead of my son." The lady looked back and glared at the girl, who shrank deeper into the arms of the other two women. "She is a useless creature, anyway."

How dare she. A surge of white-hot rage formed in the pit of Lalita's belly. Her frown grew deeper. Yes, she could understand what the woman felt as a mother who had recently lost her child. But to blame an innocent girl for the predicament? It was nothing, but the hatred planted in her mind by a society that did not want to see its women form healthy bonds amongst themselves.

"I do not want you or anyone else to speak like that in front of me," so cold was her voice that it sent shivers down the spine of all those present there in the courtyard. "Remember that the one whose death you wished for just now is also someone's daughter. Would you have liked that if something happened to her, and her family blamed you and your son?"

"Besides, it was Abhay Babu's fault to use the forest path in that hour of the night," Kumudini interjected. "Didn't he know it is unsafe for a reason? He took the risk upon himself."

Lalita nodded. "I did not want to be the one to say this, but what Kumudini just said is true. And therefore, I cannot punish an innocent girl for a crime she did not commit."

The lady stared at her with widened eyes. "But maasaheb-"

Lalita raised an arm. "Enough. I do not want to listen to another word. Sardar!" She called out. At that very instant, a stout man with a thick wooden rod emerged from within the house. He bowed upon seeing Lalita.

"You summoned me, maasaheb?"

"Yes. I want you to take Abhay Babu's mother back to his abode," she pointed at the lady clad in white who still sat on the floor near her feet. "Take her there because she is not in a good state of mind to make that journey on her own."

"Shall I take her daughters-in-law too?" He asked.

"No. They will stay with us until their mother-in-law can overcome her grief."

Sardar gave his mistress a nod and picked the old lady from the floor. Still stunned, Abhay Babu's mother did not protest at all even as Lalita's man carried her bodily out of the zamindar house. As soon as she was out of sight, Lalita stood up from the stool. The wives of Abhay did the same.

"Thank you so much, maasaheb," said the oldest of the three. "If you did not do this, gods know what would have happened to Prafulla."

Lalita gave them a warm smile. "I did nothing. It is your and Chandrani's utter support to her that this became possible. I hope you three will support each other in the same way throughout the rest of your lives."

"If we have your blessings upon us, then all will be possible." She lowered her eyes as grateful tears ran down her cheeks.

"Kumudini, take them inside. They need to get some rest." Lalita turned her attention towards her companions. "Also, say nothing that will make Prafulla upset. She is already in a delicate state of mind." There was a knowing glimmer in Lalita's kohl-laden eyes.

Kumudini laughed, twirling a lock of her wavy hair around her index finger. With a sway, she walked over to the three wives of Abhay Babu and herded them inside, saying:

"Do not look so glum. The best days of your lives start from today!"

Priyamvada crinkled her eyes. "Kumudini will never learn. There was no reason for her to say that."

"Indeed. I need to talk to her." Lalita replied. "Sometimes things should not be spoken aloud, no matter how true they are."

"To think that the investigator is due in another day or so!" Priyamvada ejaculated.

Lalita whirled around. "When is he going to arrive?"

"Late tonight or early tomorrow morning, if everything happens on time." Priyamvada replied.

"Has his room been prepared?" Lalita asked.

"Yes."

"Alright," Lalita fiddled with a fold in her attire. "One of you will wake me up if he arrives tonight itself. No matter how late it is. Now catch up with Kumudini lest she make more unwanted comments."

Priyamvada nodded. "I will do that."

Gathering the pleats of her saree, she took the same route Kumudini had taken and went inside, leaving Lalita standing alone in the courtyard. She put a hand on her throbbing forehead.

Such was a usual morning in the life of Nishikantopur's zamindarni.

~•~