Chapter 8 - the Angel and the Devil

"Matilda," called Miss Cook, "have you had any interaction with Alice recently? She hasn't come back to this art room for months."
"Of course she hasn't," replied Matilda with a quirky smile, "she has a boyfriend now. She doesn't have time for this stuff anymore."
"She does?" asked Miss Cook, aghast. "Who?" came out of her mouth before she could stop it.
"Some guy from her biology class," replied Matilda, "Rishabh, he's called, I think."
"Oh," was all that came out of Miss Cook's mouth while she paced the room with stomping footsteps, her fingers crossed in front of her.
To the girl sitting next to her, Matilda remarked, "I hope Alice would lose interest in this Rishabh in like six months and then move onto another guy the next day. That would make her a most fascinating study."
The girl chuckled while Miss Cook looked at Matilda in bewilderment, "You don't mean a word of that!" she exclaimed.
"Actually, I do." replied Matilda. "People want to see only good in others because it gives them hope of gaining some benefits from their goodness. You hope for a doctor to be a good person so they will save your life. You hope for a police officer to show sympathy towards your situation and let you go in dire times." The girl next to her nodded. "Doesn't mean everyone has a heart of gold."
"Still I would expect better of Alice." Said Miss Cook. Though it pained her to think of Alice staying in a relationship with this Rishabh and possibly marrying him some day. She shook her head.

Miss Cook then started to announce the plan for predictor exams. How much practical work she expected to be handed in by then and how to prepare for the exams they were going to have.


As soon as the predictor exams approached, everyone started to recline to their home. The parties stopped, and so did friends' outings. Rishabh was no different, but fate had something else in store for him.

Just a few weeks before the predictor exams started, Rishabh started cutting his walks with Alice short and going home early to revise. Especially when he had frees after lunch. It pained him to do so, but he couldn't put his future at risk. One such day, when he got home early, he found his mother cooking in the kitchen, complaining about the pain in her foot while his father sat on the sofa, drunk out of his senses. Rishabh offered help to his mother, but she just waved him away. "Go revise for your exams." she said. "They are soon, aren't they?"
Rishabh nodded, gave her a hug, and said, "You're the best!" before leaving for his room upstairs.
Merely an hour later, he heard a loud scream that would haunt his dreams for days afterwards.

When Rishabh got downstairs, he found his mother screaming in pain, clutching her leg. He immediately called 999 and waited for the emergency services to arrive while he desperately tried to console his mother and assure her confidently that everything was going to be alright.

The ambulance arrived quickly, and his mother was admitted into the local hospital soon afterwards. Rishabh had an idea of what it might be. After all, they all knew about the metal supports his mother had inside her leg because of her broken bone. But whenever he asked his mother what had happened to her leg, she would just put a finger on her lip and shush him repeatedly while looking anxiously in his father's direction.

Rishabh waited patiently for the doctor to come out of the operating theatre, with an arm around his younger brother, Aryan while his father brooded at the edge of the bench, murmuring about the "absurd" prohibition of alcohol in the hospital. Just as his father was about to get up to leave, the nurse came out of the operating theatre to update them of the surgery.
"We have removed the supports she had in her leg." she informed, "But she will be on bed rest for 2 to 3 months. We can provide home care nurses for her during that time if it is something you need."
"No, we don't need some strangers bathing my wife at my home." said Rishabh's father. "We are perfectly capable of taking care of her on our own."
"And who would take care of her, you?" asked Rishabh. "You're too busy trying to become "alcoholic of the year." I don't know if I am allowed to make this decision," Rishabh said to the nurse, "but I think it will be best to ask this question from my mother once she has recovered from her surgery. She will make a more sensible decision."
His father gave him side glances with flaring nostrils while the nurse smiled proudly at him before taking their leave.