CHAPTER XXXVIII
The Missing Piece
Sita and I returned home after picking up all the groceries we needed. The night had already settled in, and the streets outside were quiet, the kind of stillness that usually meant everyone was either winding down for dinner or already in bed.
But the moment I stepped inside the house, something felt… off.
Jasmine wasn't home yet. Not only was she late, but she wasn't answering her phone either.
A knot of worry twisted in my stomach.
And then it hit me — the mistake I had made earlier. I had gone to my sister Pavani's house and borrowed her car to get back home. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, standing in the middle of the living room with the whole family staring at me, it was clear that I had just walked into an interrogation.
My father sat straight-backed on the sofa, my mother beside him, and my uncle and aunt on the other side. All their eyes were fixed on me. Sita, sensing the tension, quietly moved to one side, staying close but out of the direct line of fire.
My mother was the first to speak, her voice sharp yet calm.
"Did you go to Pavani's house today?"
I froze for a moment. "Uh… I… I was… yes, I was there," I admitted hesitantly.
Before I could say more, my father's voice cut in — deep, steady, but with a sharp edge I rarely heard.
"Vedu… I have forgiven every mistake you've made so far. I've always stood by you. Do you know why? Because I don't want your life to end up like Pavani's."
His words stung, not because of their harshness, but because of the unspoken judgment behind them.
I straightened my shoulders and met his gaze. "And what, exactly, is wrong with her life? She's living the way she wants, and she's happy. Isn't that what matters?"
A brief silence hung in the air, heavy and uncomfortable. My father didn't reply — but the tension in his eyes spoke volumes.
Then my sister Saumya jumped in, her tone laced with both worry and accusation.
"You went to Pavani's house… so where did you leave Jasmine? Why isn't she home yet, Vedu? If something's happened to her, what am I supposed to tell my in-laws?"
The room seemed to close in around me. My chest felt tight, and my mind raced.
"I'll go look for her," I said quickly, already turning toward the door.
It wasn't just about finding Jasmine now — it was about escaping the suffocating questions, the silent accusations, and the walls closing in on me. If I could get out, even for a little while, maybe I could breathe again.
And so, without another word, I stepped away from my family's stares, telling myself that for a short time… I had found a way to slip out of the noose tightening around me.
I drove straight to the club where we had dropped Jasmine off earlier — the same place where I had handed her the car keys without a second thought.
The neon lights outside flickered in the night, casting colorful reflections on the wet pavement, but my mind was already too restless to notice their charm. My heart thumped hard against my ribs as I stepped out of the car.
Inside, the club was buzzing with music, chatter, and the clinking of glasses. I scanned the crowd quickly — faces blurred together under the strobe lights, but none of them belonged to Jasmine. A cold unease crawled up my spine.
I pushed my way toward the bar and caught the attention of one of the staff.
"I'm looking for Jasmine," I said, raising my voice over the music. "She said she was meeting the owner here — her friend."
The bartender frowned. "Owner? She hasn't come in tonight at all."
The words hit me like ice water.
"What?" I asked, almost in disbelief. "You're sure?"
He nodded firmly.
I stood frozen for a moment, my mind reeling. If the owner hadn't been here tonight… then where had Jasmine gone? And why had she told us this story in the first place?
With a growing sense of dread, I hurried back to the parking lot. My eyes darted to the spot where I remembered leaving the car for her.
Empty.
The space was bare — not even a hint of the vehicle.
Panic rippled through me. This was no longer just about her being late; something was clearly wrong.
Without wasting another second, I asked a few people about the owner's address. It took some time, but eventually, I managed to piece together enough directions.
Clutching the steering wheel tightly, I turned the car toward her home, my mind full of questions and my pulse drumming in my ears.
Whatever was going on, I needed answers — and I needed them now.
I reached the owner's house and knocked on the door, pressing the bell a few times for good measure. My heartbeat was still unsettled from the drive over.
After a short moment, the door creaked open. Standing there was a girl, probably around my own age. Her hair was cut short, framing her face in a way that made her striking features stand out even more. Her eyes — large, deep, and beautiful — held a certain confidence, as if she was used to being looked at.
What caught my attention the most, however, was her outfit — or rather, the lack of it. She wore a revealing, skin-hugging dress that left very little to the imagination, its thin straps clinging to her shoulders while the fabric traced the curves of her body.
I kept my tone polite, trying to hide my confusion.
"Hi… I'm looking for Jasmine. Is she here?"
Before the girl could answer, a familiar voice floated from somewhere behind her.
"Darling, who's at the door?"
The sound of Jasmine's voice made my stomach twist. I instinctively leaned to the side, peering past the doorway.
And there she was — Jasmine — standing just a few steps inside the hallway. But she wasn't dressed for going out, nor was she in her usual casual clothes. She was wrapped in nothing but a towel, her damp hair suggesting she had just stepped out of a shower… or something else entirely.
In that moment, everything clicked.
The "meeting" at the club.
The missing car.
The unanswered calls.
It all made perfect, frustrating sense now.
I forced myself to keep my expression neutral, though a storm was brewing inside me.
If this was what she had planned all along, why hadn't she just told me? She could have spared me the unnecessary panic, the awkward confrontation with my family, and the trouble I had landed in because of her disappearance.
Instead, here I was — standing on the doorstep of a stranger's home, piecing together the truth while Jasmine looked back at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
To be continue....