The pale hospital light cast long shadows across the room. Nari lay weakly on the bed, her face pale, her breath still uneven. At her side stood Officer Advait and Officer Dhruv, watching over her with steady expressions.

“Please… let me go to my child,” Nari whispered, her voice trembling with desperation.

Advait, speaking gently, “You’re not in any condition to walk. Don’t worry—your child is safe.” His tone was meant to comfort, though the weight in his eyes betrayed his concern.

Dhruv, more formal, opened his notepad. “We need you to tell us everything, from the beginning,” he said firmly. “Your child was the one who called us for help. When we arrived, we found you unconscious, tied to a chair… and your child passed out beside you.”

Nari’s lips quivered, tears spilling as her voice broke. “And… my husband? Where is he?”

Dhruv hesitated, his throat tightening. “Unfortunately… your husband is d—” He couldn’t finish. His words hung in the air, heavy and unfinished.

At that moment, a nurse knocked lightly and stepped in. “Doctor! The kid has regained consciousness.”

Nari’s eyes widened. Jay? Her heart leapt, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please… please take me to my child!” she begged, clutching the bedsheet as if to anchor herself. “Please, Officer… I need to see him!”

Even the officers felt the sting of her cry. For a brief moment, their hardened duty softened into compassion.

Advait nodded. “Alright. We’ll take you there.” Turning toward the doctor, his voice steadied, “Doctor, please escort her to her son. We’ll head there first.”

The room filled with movement—the nurse hurrying out, the doctor preparing, and Nari’s tears flowing as hope flickered again in her heart.