Dead Truth

The dark road stretched with the twin beams boring holes in the black of the night. The raucous groan of the horn cracked through the silence and punctuated the steady purr of the engine. All off a sudden there was a crunch, and the car tumbled like a domino. The screech of metal on the concrete followed, and then…a flash of light, and a boom.

Sania jumped up in her bed, her forehead bathed in sweat. Her chest heaved as her breaths sounded above the noise of the fan running at full speed.

“It’s been 12 whole years, yet the dream doesn’t go. Dad, why did you go like this? Damn,” she muttered to herself as she dabbed at her face with the sleeve of her t-shirt.

She looked at the clock on the wall beside her, and continued, “It’s 5 anyways. I’ll get back to reading dad’s journal. I must uncover the nature of his death soon, and maybe there’s a clue in this somewhere.”

The last week had been particularly eventful, what with her having to steal a book from the archives of the national library, then going without reason to meet a prisoner, and then finally breaking into the office of a high-placed professional. But she did get what she wanted; she got the journal, his journal, the one in which he wrote about all his meetings. He wrote about all his deals as well, then there would be the last one too.

With that thought, she got up and retrieved the book from her closet. Switching on the lights, she continued reading from where she had left it last night.

It isn’t easy to be a minister. Tiring, and boring, yet so important. My work will need to be impeccable and extremely transparent. I cannot make the mistakes our opponents made, or we’ll end the way they did.

I had to make a choice between the family and the problems going on in the national circuit. But then as a minister I had to visit the rape victims’ families, rather than going home to visit Sania. I must go tomorrow first thing in the morning. Poor child, having to face such high fever at such a tender age.

I miss her so much, and even her mother. Wish they could have accompanied me here to the capital.

On the flight, I worked on a plan to ensure the steady development of the troubled states. I must work on the numbers tomorrow, and then I shall ask for an audience with the prime minister to see if my plan would be fine.

Now, I’ll call up Sakshi and Sania, and then I’ll head to bed.

She remembered the day very clearly in her mind. She had been 13 and she had suddenly fallen ill. Her body ached, her head throbbed and her skin could be used literally to cook dinner that day. He hadn’t visited here even. Mother had explained the reasons to her, and she had reluctantly agreed. With a twinkle of a smile lining her face, she turned the page.

I spent the whole day with Sakshi and Sania. I had thought they would be extremely angry on me, but they weren’t. It’s good when the family helps in this way. I then went to the temple to pray for Sania’s quick recovery. The doctors have said that the worst part is done, but I can’t bear to see my little angel like that, in such pain.

I have worked on the numbers, but then the work must be done by my way, or else we’ll end up spending from the nation’s pockets. I have already asked for an audience with the PM tomorrow, and I shall tell him about my plan. Let’s see what he says.

She knew this was it. This plan could be the one which caused her dad to be killed. It was around a month after his visit that the call about his road accident had come.

The PM loved my idea, and is sure that this could be the best thing to happen to the nation. Though he went on to say that he will forward the idea only if the contract is given to his relatives. I cannot do such a thing, or the nation’s wallet will be hurt. The firms he is suggesting have been notoriously involved in skimming money and for not doing the desired work. I’ll decide what to do in a couple of days.

Sania has become better, the doctors were right about the worst phase being over. The days are getting longer, and the nights shorter; wish Sakshi and Sania were here. I miss them…

Sania kept skimming the pages till she saw something of interest.

The party President has now threatened to kick me out of the cabinet, mid-term that too. And only because I decided to not award the contracts to their relatives. It’s like I’m the only one working for the nation.

I must go public if this continues. I have to work for the nation, and not for them. They may have forgotten their purpose, but I have not.

Her father had called for a press conference the night before he died. He had called mother up and said that it would all be fine; and that nothing would happen to him, her and to me. The next call which came in was from the police.

A tear fell dangled on her eyelash and slipped down her cheek. With a heavy heart, she turned the page, only to find them torn off. As she looked around, a voice spoke.

“He did not listen to what we had told him then. He could have gone on and enjoyed the money but he chose otherwise. There is one thing you should always remember- family, duty and honor. That’s the order it must be in, and that’s what we were doing.  Your father did have the sense of duty and honor, but he didn’t care about his family. But we did…”

“He cared for family. More than you did. It was just that he was matured enough to realize that the whole nation was his family, and not just mother and I,” Sania replied in a strong voice, her eyes searching desperately for an escape route.

“Did anything come of his love? He ended up burning in the flames, his body crushed in the car by the truck we sent to dispose him off.”

“He didn’t die in our hearts. And you won’t get anything by killing me. The cat is already out of the bag. I already sent a copy of the journal to the head of the CBI Chief 2 days ago. He would have received it yesterday, and today, all your heads shall hang.”

“No. You didn’t tell anyone about the book, let alone the CBI Chief. He hasn’t received any post about a book,” the man said as he pulled off his mask.

“Oh my God, even you,” she exclaimed as he pulled out a silenced gun.

Her scream hid the already muted sound of the gunshot as she tumbled back onto the bed, a rivulet of red flowing from her forehead and onto the open book.