Chapter 35: When the World Decides You’re Guilty
805 Words
The next day began like any other inside prison.
Cold. Gray. Unforgiving.
Lina was sitting on the edge of her bunk, staring at the wall, replaying Shalini’s words again and again—when screaming erupted down the corridor.
Guards ran. Doors clanged. Someone shouted her name.
“Lina Sharma!”
Her heart dropped.
Before she could stand, a guard grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the office. Her feet barely touched the floor.
“What happened?” Lina asked, panic rising.
No one answered.
They shoved her into a chair. A television was already on.
And there it was.
The headline burned into her eyes.
BREAKING NEWS:
PARENTS OF CONVICTED BUSINESSWOMAN LINA SHARMA DIE IN SUSPECTED SUICIDE
Below it, pictures of her parents’ car—twisted metal, shattered glass, blood staining the road.
The reporter’s voice was cold, rehearsed.
“Early this morning, Savriti Sharma and her husband were found dead after their car was hit by a truck on the highway. Sources claim the couple may have taken their own lives following public disgrace caused by their daughter’s murder conviction…”
Lina screamed.
“No—no, no, no!” She lunged toward the screen. “That’s a lie! My parents would never—!”
Her body collapsed to the floor.
Her world ended in that moment.
---
The news spread fast.
Too fast.
Inside the prison, whispers turned into cruelty.
“Murderer.” “She killed her parents with shame.” “First the businessman, now her own family.”
That night, when the guards were fewer and the corridors darker, it happened.
Three inmates cornered her near the wash area.
“You think you’re special?” one sneered.
The first blow knocked her down.
The second cracked against her arm.
Pain exploded through her body as bone snapped.
She screamed—but no one came.
By the time the guards arrived, Lina lay curled on the floor, blood on her lips, her arm twisted unnaturally.
“Another accident,” someone muttered.
---
She woke up in the prison infirmary.
Her arm was in a cast. Her body ached. Her soul felt hollow.
An officer stood at the door. “You’re being allowed to attend your parents’ funeral. Under supervision.”
Tears slid silently down Lina’s face.
Mama… Baba…
She had promised them she would rise again.
Instead, they were gone.
---
The funeral was quiet.
Too quiet.
Lina stood in black prison clothes, handcuffed, flanked by guards. Her parents’ coffins lay side by side—closed forever.
She looked around desperately.
Every face blurred.
Every second stretched.
Arjun…
She had told herself she wouldn’t hope.
But hope came anyway.
If he comes… I’ll listen. I’ll let him explain. I’ll compromise.
She scanned the crowd again.
Nothing.
No Arjun. No apology. No explanation.
Only whispers. Only judgment.
Her knees buckled.
Kabir caught her just in time.
“He’s not coming,” Anaya whispered, her voice tight with anger. “He knows.”
Lina didn’t cry.
Something inside her had finally broken beyond repair.
---
As the prayers ended and the crowd dispersed, Kabir turned to a young man standing apart from everyone else.
Lina’s brother.
He looked lost. Terrified. Alone.
Kabir knelt in front of him. “You’re coming with me.”
“Where?” he asked softly.
“To America,” Kabir replied. “To study.”
But when Anaya met Kabir’s eyes, the truth passed silently between them.
This wasn’t about education.
It was about survival.
“Shalini won’t stop,” Anaya said quietly. “Your parents were a warning.”
Kabir nodded grimly. “The next target will be him.”
Lina overheard.
Her heart clenched painfully.
“No,” she whispered. “Please… don’t let her touch him.”
Kabir placed a hand over hers. “I won’t. I swear.”
Her brother hugged her tightly, shaking.
“I’ll come back for you,” he promised.
Lina kissed his forehead through tears. “Live. That’s all I ask.”
That was the last time she saw him.
---
Back in prison, Lina lay awake all night.
Her arm throbbed. Her body hurt.
But nothing compared to the silence where her parents’ voices used to be.
She finally understood.
Shalini Malhotra was not just trying to destroy her.
She was erasing her.
One by one.
Family. Reputation. Hope.
Lina stared at the ceiling, eyes dry now.
“They think I’ll break,” she whispered to the darkness.
Her fingers curled slowly into a fist.
“But I’ve already lost everything.”
And when someone has nothing left to lose—
They become dangerous.
Somewhere outside, Shalini Malhotra believed she had won.
But blood had been spilled.
And blood always demands truth.
The war was no longer about love.
It was about justice.
And Lina Sharma was still breathing.
- Writer
