Returning from Arnab's office, Anvesha remained silent for a long time. Ayaan kept asking—what happened? What did she see?
Anvesha finally said, "What Arnab is saying—could it be false?"
Ayaan froze. "Are you believing him?"
"I'm not believing. But what he said—if it's true?"
Ayaan remained silent for a while. Then said, "Did my father cheat his father? I've asked myself this question many times. But never got an answer."
Anvesha held Ayaan's hand and said, "Can we find out the truth? The real truth."
Ayaan was surprised. "How?"
Anvesha said, "Your father's old papers. Diary. If something remains?"
Ayaan remembered—there was an old diary of his father. Kept in a locked box. Unopened for many years.
"Let's see," Ayaan stood up.
---
Both went to that old house. Where Ayaan's father used to live. Unlocked and entered. Dust flying. Cobwebs hanging. Ayaan opened an old cupboard. Took out a rusted box.
Opened the box with a key. Inside were old papers. Photos. And a diary.
Ayaan opened the diary. Anvesha also sat beside him and started reading.
As they turned the pages, Ayaan's hand stopped. On one page was written—
"Today I realized—I have cheated my brother. I have taken his rightful share. He doesn't know. But I know. I'll have to live with this guilt my entire life."
Ayaan's face turned pale. Anvesha continued reading—
"Arnab's father came to me today. I don't know if he knows something. But I saw suspicion in his eyes. What should I do? Tell the truth? Or suppress it?"
On the next page—
"Today Arnab's father died. Suicide. Everyone says. But I know—I am the reason for his death. He had found out the truth. And couldn't bear that burden. My fault. My fault alone."
Ayaan closed the diary. Tears in his eyes. Anvesha remained silent.
"My father... truly cheated his father," Ayaan said in a trembling voice, "And with that guilt... uncle's death?"
Anvesha squeezed Ayaan's hand. "You're not responsible for this."
"But my father is. And that responsibility is mine too. Isn't Arnab's anger justified then?"
Before Anvesha could say anything, there was a sound at the door. Both turned around—Arnab! Standing there. Fire in his eyes.
"Found the truth?"
Ayaan stood up. "Arnab, I..."
"Shut up!" Arnab shouted, "Now do you understand? What kind of person your father was? He cheated my father, and my father committed suicide. And I spent my entire life alone!"
Tears in Arnab's eyes. For the first time, that terrifying look wasn't in his eyes. Only pain.
Ayaan stepped forward. "I didn't know. I learned today. My father's crime towards you—I want to repay it."
Arnab was surprised. "What?"
"Half share of the business is yours. That's your rightful share. I'm willing to give it."
Arnab froze. Before he could say anything, Anvesha said, "And not just business—you're cousins. Blood relation. Can't this be repaired?"
Arnab remained silent for a while. Then said, "I've nurtured hatred for so many years. Will it change now?"
Ayaan stepped forward. Extended his hand towards Arnab. "We can try. Together."
Arnab looked at Ayaan for a long time. Then slowly extended his hand. Their hands met.
Tears in Anvesha's eyes. For the first time, she saw—love taking the place of hatred.
But suddenly her forehead started burning. She closed her eyes—
She saw—Arnab! Knife in hand! Advancing towards Ayaan! Behind him stood the shadow of Arnab's father!
Anvesha screamed—"Beware!!!"