Chapter 4: Echoes of the Past

The thick winter air hung low as Pranav and Thameem entered the modest old home nestled in the quieter part of Chennai. The walls bore fading paint and framed memories, but an unmistakable silence sat heavily in the air—one that had been undisturbed for decades. Lakshmi’s mother opened the door, now a fragile woman in her late seventies, her back slightly hunched but her eyes still carrying the weight of pain no time could erase.

Pranav introduced himself softly.

“I’m Inspector Pranav. This is my colleague, Sub-Inspector Thameem. We’re reopening a case… from 21 years ago. We would like to talk to you about your daughter. Lakshmi.”

She stared at them for a long moment. And then, like a dam giving way to a pressure it could no longer hold, her eyes brimmed with tears. She stepped aside, motioning them in with trembling hands. The two officers entered, keeping their presence as respectful and unintrusive as possible.

Pranav sat down across from her. “Ma’am, please take your time. We’re not here to hurt you or stir past wounds. We only want the truth. If we know what really happened, we might be able to bring peace to her… and justice.”

She nodded, reaching for an old brass box beside the sofa. With gentle care, she pulled out a photo—Lakshmi, in a blue saree, her smile radiant and proud.

“She was… light. Pure light,” the mother whispered, her voice breaking. “So full of life. Sharp mind, kind soul. Everyone admired her… even Raghavan. At least, in the beginning.”

Pranav and Thameem listened in silence as the mother slowly peeled back the layers of memory.

“I liked Raghavan when we first met him. He had no bad habits, came from a decent family. His profile on the matrimonial site—it was very impressive. A good job, stable man. I believed he would keep my daughter safe. I arranged their marriage with full trust.”

She sighed deeply, her fingers tightly gripping the photo frame.

“They were happy at first. Very happy. Lakshmi would call me often. She was excelling at work, he was doing well too. Both wanted to wait for a child. A year or two. But when they decided to try… it didn’t happen.”

Her voice cracked, as if saying the words still stung fresh.

“It hurt them both. But more so Lakshmi. She started becoming quiet. Wouldn’t visit much. I thought they were busy, you know? But she started writing us letters instead… not calls. She didn’t want us to visit anymore.”

Pranav leaned forward, sensing a shift. “Why?”

The woman hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. “Violence,” she whispered. “Torment. Raghavan’s family started saying things—about her being barren, worthless. In the beginning, Raghavan defended her. But… over time, even he joined them.”

The air in the room chilled. A storm of suppressed truth was breaking loose.

“He started hurting her. I mean really hurting her. We got to know through letters. We wanted to pull her out, bring her home. But she told us to wait. She thought… it would get better. We believed her.”

Tears streamed freely down the old woman’s cheeks now.

“Our younger daughter… she was the one who kept seeing her in secret. She used to visit Lakshmi when we couldn’t. She told us things were worse than what the letters said. But we were afraid—afraid of making it worse if we confronted him.”

Pranav interrupted softly, “Your second daughter… where is she now?”

“She’s in the US. A gynaecologist. She was the one who first consulted Lakshmi during their fertility treatments. But that too became a problem for Raghavan’s family. They changed the doctor without informing us. And… after Lakshmi’s death, my younger one couldn’t take it. She left India. Married there. She’s settled now.”

Pranav nodded slowly, his thoughts already spiraling.

“Is it possible to meet her?”

“She’s coming in a few days. To take me with her… I’m shifting to the US with them permanently. I’ve… I’ve had enough of this place. We never even saw Lakshmi properly for the last year of her life.”

Her voice cracked under a mountain of grief. “I wish… I wish I had pulled her out earlier. I should have gone and held her hand. Maybe… she’d still be alive.”

The room fell into a painful silence.

Pranav stood up, gently touching her shoulder. “Thank you, ma’am. You’ve given us more than you know.”

As they stepped out into the grey daylight, the cold hit harder.

Outside the house, Pranav paused near their car. He took out his phone and dialed Mitra.

The call connected.

“Mitra,” Pranav said, his voice steady but sharp. “Update me. How did the first session with Raghavan go?”

The engine of the case had started to stir. Answers were slowly surfacing from the depths of a past shrouded in pain. And somewhere inside a cold jail cell, the truth waited… bleeding, whispering, trembling—just like the people it left behind.