Second Chance: A Dark Tale of Urban India

Chapter 189: Finding out

The atmosphere on the rooftop was a welcome contrast to the lively chaos below. Thick clouds drifted lazily across the sky, blocking much of the afternoon sun and allowing a cool breeze to sweep across the open space.

Rohit leaned against the weathered railing, his arms resting on the warm concrete. Beside him, Akhil stood quietly with his hands in his pockets.

Neither spoke for a while.

Below them stretched an open field where a group of children were playing cricket. The occasional shout or appeal drifted upward before being swallowed by the wind.

Eventually, Rohit broke the silence.

"So," he asked, glancing at Akhil. "How are you really doing?"

"Not good," Akhil muttered. "Have been diagnosed with a condition.."

His voice was hesitant, almost reluctant.

Rohit turned fully toward him.

It turned out Akhil had developed erectile dysfunction due to the prolonged use of drugs during his captivity.

Confessing it was clearly painful, but he didn’t hold back. He revealed how he had been forced to have sex with prostitutes repeatedly.

It was the kind of harassment story rarely heard from a man, yet Rohit listened without judgment.

"The doctors are optimistic," Akhil said at last, his voice quieter. "They say recovery is possible. The damage from the drugs... it might not be permanent."

Might.

The single word hung heavy between them. Akhil’s gaze remained fixed on the distant landscape, his shoulders tense with unspoken fear.

"They kept drugging me, bro," he admitted, voice trembling. "Those women... I couldn’t even think straight most of the time."

He swallowed hard. "What if it never works again?"

For the first time since they had come upstairs, Rohit saw raw fear in Akhil’s eyes — not fear of death or pain, but something deeper: the terror of being less than the man he believed he should be.

"Then stop deciding the outcome before it happens," Rohit said firmly. "Look at the bright side."

Akhil searched his face.

Rohit placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "You survived. That’s already more than most people would’ve managed."

"But—"

"If your body is damaged, heal it," Rohit interrupted. "If it can’t be fully healed, adapt."

His voice remained calm.

"Life doesn’t stop because one thing went wrong. You still have your arms. Your legs. Your brain. You’re standing here right now."

Akhil lowered his head.

The words weren’t comforting.

They weren’t meant to be.

But they gave him something to hold on to.

After a while, he spoke again.

"You know... I’ve been thinking about something."

"What?"

"I want to join the police."

Rohit’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "Why? You have a much easier path with your dad as a judge. I’m sure your career would be smoother if you followed him."

Akhil shook his head. "When I was kidnapped, I realized how powerless I was."

He paused, reflecting on his past. "It happened twice in a row. I know what I am right now is not good enough. So I’ll prepare and apply right after I finish school."

Rohit looked at him, then turned his gaze back to the landscape. "If you apply right after school, the rank you’ll get will be lower. The highest you could hope for initially is ASI."

Akhil turned to him, his voice filled with pain and fierce determination. "Then I will climb the ranks. Cracking UPSC is beyond my talent right now, but I’ll gain experience and start cleaning the dirt from the ground level. If needed, I’ll grind harder."

He paused, determination shining in his eyes. "What happened to me should never happen to any other Akhil again."

Rohit stared at him for a long moment.

Having Akhil in the police could prove useful — at the very least for information, if not direct support.

With that fire in his heart, Rohit was certain the boy would rise through the ranks.

But whether he would remain a friend or eventually become a serious rival was yet to be seen.

Personally, Rohit couldn’t care less about this naive, emotional brat. The only reason he was even pretending to support him was because of the devious schemes he had planned for his mother.

That was why he nodded without hesitation, his face the picture of sincerity. "If that’s what you want, I’ll help however I can."

Akhil’s face broke into a genuine grin as he least expected Rohit to mock or make fun of him, instead. "Thanks, bro... I really needed that."

Rohit shifted the conversation smoothly. "Before they grabbed you... who were you spending time with?"

The smile on Akhil’s face softened instantly. "Karishma. She was giving me a lift."

Rohit asked, "I guess you spent the entire evening with her, using my name as an excuse?"

Akhil blushed and turned away in embarrassment. "Drop it, bro. I won’t do it again."

Rohit’s mind drifted to what Kasim had revealed — someone had helped the kidnappers by providing Akhil’s exact location. Kasim hadn’t known the identity of that informant. As Rohit considered Karishma’s messy past — a woman trying to divorce her husband while cheating on him — his suspicions grew stronger.

Rohit’s eyes narrowed. "You trust her?"

"Of course I do."

"You shouldn’t."

The atmosphere between them changed instantly.

Akhil looked at him with doubt before lowering his gaze. "Bro. let’s not talk about it... You did me a huge favor already."

Rohit grabbed Akhil’s head gently but firmly, forcing him to meet his eyes. "That’s exactly why I’m saying this. Listen to me. She is using you. You’re going to regret it."

Akhil frowned, irritation darkening his expression as he shoved his hand "Don’t spout nonsense? Are you jealous of me with her?"

Rohit tried to explain his suspicions calmly, laying out his concerns. But the more he spoke, the angrier Akhil became.

"No," Akhil cut him off sharply, shaking his head. "You’re wrong about her."

"Akhil—"

"No." Akhil’s voice was final. "Just... stop."

With visible frustration, he turned and headed toward the stairs, leaving Rohit standing alone on the rooftop.

Rohit watched Akhil disappear down the stairs and let out a long sigh. "So the idiot really is in love," he muttered to himself.

He pulled out his phone. "Lisa, do we have Karishma’s phone number from the school logs?"

Lisa’s calm voice responded immediately in his ear. "Yes, sir. It’s 836XXXXXXX. Shall I send a mimic link with a plausible context?"

Rohit smirked. "Yes. Use a temporary number disguised as her husband. Tell him he wants to join a video meeting to negotiate her demands one last time."

He chuckled softly in amusement. "Let’s see how those greedy eyes handle this notification."

A moment later, Lisa confirmed, "Sent, sir."

Just as predicted, the link was accepted within a minute.

While Karishma remained distracted in the living room, chatting with Kavita, Rohit’s AI quietly infiltrated her phone through the crafted message. The entire process took mere seconds. Contacts, messages, call logs, and hidden folders unfolded before him like an open book.

And there it was — a familiar number.

Suraj Rajput, Ahmed’s right hand man.

Rohit’s expression darkened. Kasim had never known the identity of the informant. Now he did. Very interesting.

As he scrolled further, the relevant messages appeared. It turned out Karishma had indeed been the informant. Jayesh had sold her out using the leaked video scandal and blackmailed her into handing over Akhil’s location for the kidnapping. A sum of one hundred thousand rupees had also been transferred to her account to keep her silent.

Rohit let out a low chuckle at the cruel twist of fate. He had possessed her number from the very beginning, yet it had never crossed his mind to check her. Finding Akhil might have been far easier and less painful had he done so.

For a moment, he considered calling her up to the rooftop and confronting her right then. But he quickly discarded the idea. The aftermath wouldn’t serve his purpose. He wanted more from her. He wanted Akhil to witness her confession, to see her break and realize exactly what kind of woman he had fallen for.

Long ago, one of his friends had made the same mistake and suffered irreversible consequences. This time, Rohit wouldn’t let it repeat.

Perhaps tomorrow at school.

He closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket, deciding to keep the matter to himself for now. It was time to focus on his main job — Kamalnath.

***

By the time he returned to Akhil’s room, the atmosphere had completely transformed.

The carefully wrapped sweets he had brought were already torn open.

The drone he had decided to gift sat in the center of the room, surrounded by excited voices.

It was the same drone he bough in pairs with finger size but shapeof helicopter from astra avionics. he might not be able to use it but with their phone survelliance using lisa’s clone and them using it he will get better feeds but before it can happen they already have tore it open and using it.

Everyone was gathered around it, arguing, laughing, and pressing buttons they probably shouldn’t have been touching.

"Animals," Rohit muttered under his breath, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Deepti approached him carrying a plate with the remaining sweets she had clearly safeguarded.

"I protected these from your friends," she said with a small smile.

Rohit returned the smile. "Thanks."

The simple compliment seemed to catch her off guard. She looked strangely pleased before turning away.

The moment the group became fully absorbed in the drone demonstration — filled with laughter and playful shoving — Rohit quietly slipped out of the room under the pretext of distributing the remaining sweets.

In the hallway, Rohit found Kavita and Karishma still deep in conversation.

Karishma, still dressed in her gym clothes with her jacket zipper slightly open, greeted him warmly.

She leaned closer, giving him an unintentional — or perhaps intentional — view of her deep cleavage and toned waist.

Kavita, wearing a simple salwar suit, looked noticeably embarrassed.

After a brief exchange, Kavita gently touched his arm. "Rohit, come to the kitchen... I need a little help."

Once they were alone, Kavita hesitated, her eyes lowered. She stepped closer, visibly uncomfortable.

"I owe you an apology," she said sincerely, finally meeting his gaze. "For blaming you so openly."

Rohit offered a reassuring smile. "It’s fine. Auntie. To be honest, I’m glad you still chose to believe in me first, even when your son’s life was at stake. That’s enough for me."

Relief washed over her face, melting away the lingering tension.

A moment later, she pulled him into a warm, motherly embrace, pressing his face against her chest just as she had done in the hospital.

Rohit savored the feeling as he embraced her back.

His body reacted instinctively. He slowly slid his hand down to her waist, inching further toward her hips, testing her reaction.

He wanted to know if she was simply a frustrated wife... or if something more lay beneath her composed exterior.

But just before his hand could drift lower, a soft cough interrupted them.

Both turned.

Deepti stood in the doorway, clearly looking for water. Amusement danced in her eyes.

"Glass, please," she said lightly. "I need to drink some water."

Kavita quickly handed her a glass.

Deepti filled it from the purifier, took a long sip, and let a few water droplets deliberately trickle down her cleavage.

Rohit rolled his eyes and turned his head away, clearly uninterested.

Before leaving, Deepti nudged him sharply with her elbow, as if she knew exactly what he was up to.

Trying to shake off the awkwardness, Rohit casually asked, "Auntie, I was thinking... how about you show me some family photo albums? It might help jog my memories."

Kavita hesitated, trying to recompose herself. "That’s a good idea... but I still need to attend to the guests." She paused, then added, "Go ahead and take them from the wardrobe yourself. They’re in the left corner."

Rohit feigned surprise. "But Auntie, in your absence..."

Kavita smiled and brushed his cheek affectionately. "You’re not an outsider, Rohit. Besides, the locker is locked, so don’t worry about it."

She trusted him completely.

Rohit smiled outwardly, looking grateful. Inside, however, his thoughts were sharp: Perfect... it means except for the locker, I can put my hands on everything.