Unraveling the Lie 1

                                    

                                          
Two days had passed since Ruhi had been rushed to the hospital after the tragic accident. The world around her had been a blur—unfamiliar faces, beeping machines, the sterile scent of antiseptic clinging to the air. The pain was unbearable, and her body had betrayed her, slipping into a coma after the accident. But what she couldn't remember, what felt like a gaping hole in her mind, was the fate of her child.
When she slowly regained consciousness, the first thing that struck her was how different everything felt. The room was too grand, too opulent to be a hospital. The velvet curtains were thick and luxurious, the bed plush beneath her. The hum of the air conditioner was distant, soothing even, but something about the atmosphere made her feel disoriented, as though she were in a place that didn't belong to her. Her gaze wandered around the room, landing on a framed portrait of the Poddar family on the wall. The realization hit her with a strange jolt: she was in the Poddar mansion.
But why? How? Her mind scrambled to piece together the events that had led her here. The last thing she could remember was the car skidding on the wet road, the sharp pain that followed, and then—nothing. A deep silence that seemed to swallow everything.
Rohit was seated beside her, his hand tightly gripping hers. His gaze met hers, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of relief and guilt—that made her uneasy. She felt the warmth of his touch, but there was an unfamiliar tension in the air, as though something was wrong.
"Ruhi, how are you feeling?" Rohit's voice broke the silence, his words trembling with emotion. His hand still held hers, warm but unsteady. He leaned closer, his eyes searching her face for any sign of recognition, relief, or understanding. But there was something in his gaze that made her uneasy, as though he were hiding something.
Ruhi blinked, trying to focus, but the haze of confusion clung to her. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry, her voice barely a whisper. As she lifted her hand, it moved almost instinctively to her stomach. It was then that the weight of everything hit her—there was nothing there. No roundness, no curve of her belly. Her fingers brushed across the flat, unbroken skin of her abdomen, and a shock of realization pierced her.
Her heart skipped, her pulse racing as the absence of her baby crashed over her like a wave. She stared down at her stomach in disbelief, her hand lingering as if somehow, she could make sense of it. The emptiness felt unnatural, like something was missing—something essential that should have been there.
Her eyes shot up to meet Rohit's, her breath catching in her throat. "Where's my baby, Rohit?" she asked, her voice barely audible, but filled with a deep, trembling uncertainty.
Rohit's face paled, and for a moment, he didn't respond. He stared at her, his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes darting away from hers as though he couldn't meet her gaze. The air around them felt thick, suffocating, and a cold chill ran down her spine.
"Rohit?" she repeated, her voice now firmer, more demanding. "Where's my baby? Tell me the truth."
Rohit's throat tightened as he cleared it, struggling to speak. "Ruhi," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "There's something I need to tell you..."
Before he could continue, the door opened and their family members poured in. Their faces were a mix of smiles and tears, a chaotic burst of emotion that overwhelmed her. They crowded around her, murmuring prayers of gratitude, embracing her with a love that felt too much, too fast. But all Ruhi could feel was a growing panic, a tightness in her chest.
"Where's my baby?" she demanded again, her voice shaking, growing stronger with every passing second.
The room fell into a stunned silence. Vidya Poddar, her mother-in-law, stepped forward, her face pale and full of sorrow. She reached for Ruhi's hand, but Ruhi recoiled, her breath quickening. Madhav Poddar, Rohit's father, stood silently behind her, his face set in sorrow.