Page 62 of Mrs. Pandey
"What gave you the right?" he asked, his voice low and trembling with fury. "Who told you this was yours to change?"
I inhaled slowly. "I live here. I thought..."
"This house was here before you. It was built by people who poured their lives into it. You walked in and stripped it like it was just another shell to decorate."
"I was trying to help," I said. "To heal for all of us."
He laughed bitterly and ran a hand through his hair. "No, Ira. You were trying to impress. To feel important. You wanted to buy love with money that isn't even..." He stopped himself, but the implication was clear.
I felt something crack inside me.
"That money is mine, Prashant, not my dad's..." I said firmly, my voice steady. "I didn't ask for yours. I didn't ask for anything. I just wanted to give us a place we didn't have to flinch from."
He stepped closer, his voice colder. "And in doing that, you erased what made it ours."
I didn't speak because I couldn't. His words were striking faster than I could shield myself.
"You thought I would like it?" he spat. "Redecorating pain? Throwing out memories like they're garbage? Then standing there with your soft voice and pretty words, expecting gratitude?"
I flinched. Not just at the words, but at the venom in his tone.
"You're selfish," he said, and for a second, his voice cracked not with anger, but something deeper. "You only do what makes you feel good. You don't ask. You don't listen. You decide. You always have."
I felt heat rise behind my eyes. I blinked fast.
"You don't know what it was like to come back here," he continued, his voice quieter now, but not calmer. "This house was the only safe place I had. Even after Baba died, it felt like he was still here. And now, even he is gone. It reminded me of my father but you..." His voice broke. He breathed sharply and walked out of room.
And then I heard the crash.
I rushed to the living room. Prashant stood there, chest heaving, an axe in his hand.
"Prashant?" My voice trembled.
His eyes were bloodshot, and wild. He didn't answer, he just swung.
The dining table split like a dry log, splinters flying across the room. The sofa groaned and tore as the blade crashed through it. The bookshelf cracked in half, books spilling out.
"Are you out of your mind?!" I shouted, rushing toward him. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"I'm correcting your mistakes!" he roared, his voice raw.
"Prashant, stop! Please!"
I stepped toward him, grabbed his shoulder but he shoved me. Hard. Too hard. Too rough.
I fell forward, face-first, the cold floor rushing to meet me. My mouth hit the ground, the sharp taste of blood blooming instantly.
The room fell still.
For one terrifying second, the air between us froze. I could hear only my breath, it was ragged, and shallow. My heart pounded against my ribs like it wanted to escape. Everything flashed at once-Kabir's slaps, Patel's threats, my father's angry face. Panic tightened around my lungs like a noose.
I pressed my chest into the floor, trying to vanish.
"Ira..." His voice cracked.
I flinched away as he reached for me.
"Ira..." Prashant dropped to his knees, his face pale, his eyes wide with horror. "I... I didn't mean to..."
