(Trigger warning/violence. Readers discretion advised for the first few paragraphs in Italics)

"Where were you this afternoon?" A loud booming voice came from behind.

The woman turned to the man that managed to send shivers down her spine with his cold glare.

"Just here." She answered meekly.

He took three large steps towards her, closing the distance between them. The woman's heart jumped into her mouth, scared for her life.

He held her arm in a tight grip and glared hard at her. "Where were you?" He repeated the question, gritting through his teeth.

"I went out with my friend," She answered in the same meek voice.

He squeezed her slender arm with his death grip and his nails imprinted red half moons on her skin. He jerked her forward and dragged her out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. She knew what was going to happen next.

He bunched her brown hair into his palm and tossed her roughly on the bed. She yelped in fear and turned to him, begging for mercy through her glazed eyes.

He twisted her around, pressing her stomach into the bed and lifted her dress up. She stuffed her face into the mattress and sobbed silently into it, getting ready for the humiliation.

She gasped and groaned in pain as he took away her dignity.

"This is for lying!" He groaned and shouted.

He thrusted, "This is for leaving the house!"

He pulled back and growled, "This is for kissing him!" He thrusted back in.

This time she couldn't handle the pain anymore, an ear piercing scream left from her mouth-

_Myra woke up in a start, gasping and hyperventilating. Her blonde hair was stuck to her sweat covered forehead.

Her chest and stomach felt heavy, which was followed by a bitter taste in her mouth.

Jumping out of the bed, she ran into her bathroom and retched the contents out. It was mostly bile, a nauseating result of the disgusting nightmare she just had.

It is just a nightmare, it is just a dream.

Myra chanted those words like her mantra and it helped her calm down a bit.

Splashing ice cold water on her face, she looked into the mirror above the sink. Her eyes bloodshot and her face flushed yet lifeless. She didn't know who she was anymore. She didn't know if she turned better or worse. One thing she was sure of that things had changed and she did too.

As she stared at her reflection, images of the woman in her dream, crying and begging for help flashed before her. She couldn't get them out of her head. Not now, nor ever.

She shut her red eyes and groaned loudly, hitting the ceramic basin hard with her palms. Finally the images stopped by the painful distraction she created.

She washed her face one more time and decided to get ready for the day.

Myra is going down the public library for some newspaper article study on Indian crimes and rape statistics in India.

She decided her project would be based on abuse, rape and kidnappings of girls and women. She desperately needed a cover story, but before she could search for it she needed to do some research. Vishal suggested a public library would be a good start.

He offered to pitch in with the research today but had to bail when the channel's director called him in for a meeting.

He promised he would rush back as soon as he can which was relieving if she wasn't lying. Last night was a huge aid for her. They had an early dinner in a nearby restaurant where Vishal explained to her briefly about the social and political situation in India and how the media plays a role in all of it.

It's no surprise that here too like in the US, paps are zeroed down to attention and fake reports. Myra hated that because journalism is much more than celebrities and their personal lives or politics and politicians. It's about guiding awareness into the society and achieving justice.

But who is she to blame? Good journalism is dead now. At least in India, people are aware of the problems they are facing and know which is fake and which is genuine.

She really hoped News Now channel is one of the good ones left.

They also discussed the project and Vishal offered to let his team help her find a cover story. She was a bit shocked when he said that the cops won't help them, or as Vishal vaguely put it 'Cops and media don't work together'.

Nevertheless Myra agreed to take his team's help almost immediately. Weirdly, she no longer had a problem with sharing her work.

She realised that digging into Indian crimes is an iceberg and she needed every bit of help she could get to reach the bottom of it.

***
Vishal gripped the door knob and paused with his hand firmly on it. A gold metallic board with Editor in chief etched on it was screwed to the door, Etasha's room.

He took a deep breath and pushed open the door, entering in.

His doubts about this meeting that he was called in so urgently, being an informal one, was confirmed when a casually seated Etasha on her usual chair and a suited man that gave out 'I'm important' vibes leaning on the small conference table came into his view.

"Good morning sir." He greeted the director.

The man faced him, with his arms crossed over his expensive suit and his lips set into a thin line over his young sharp face.

He continued to stare passively at Vishal through his clear rimless glasses. Though his face gave nothing away Vishal understood the meaning behind it.

Vishal spinned on his heel, turning towards Etasha with a smile.

"Good morning, Etasha!" He did as the director said. Or unsaid.

Etasha half smirked and shifted her brown eyes from her laptop to Vishal.

She flashed him a grin, "A very good morning, Vishal!"

He controlled his smile and turned back to the director with an impassive face.

"You called for me, sir?"

The director got off the table and straightened his suit, adjusting the invisible creases on the fabric.

"I don't want to waste your time so I'll get straight to the point, Vishal-" He focused back on Vishal once he was done with his grooming.

"Why is your team diverted from the election coverage?"

Vishal breathed in, he expected this to happen.

"I was the one to do it." He admitted.

"I know you did but why?"

"They were more interested in the project sir and I could use some of their help." Vishal explained.

The director narrowed his eyes in confusion. He looked to Etasha and she clarified, "The crime free India project, Jay. The one NBC sent their journalist from cali?"

She tried to Jumpstart his memory and Jay nodded once he recollected.

"Acha! Acha." [Yes! Yes.]

He scoffed and turned to vishal.

"You can't be serious?"

Vishal gritted his jaw in annoyance. "I think I am sir."

Jay scratched his jaw, searching for a way to make Vishal see the priorities.

"Vishal... Elections should be our main priority now. This isn't new for you, you know the pressure right?" Jay decided to use the calm way.

"I agree sir but I'm sure many others are more than willing to cover the election campaigning." Vishal responded.

He was confused as to what the director's problem with them not working on politics division was.

"Maybe," Jay cocked his head, "but your team did a splendid job and the channel was commended for the last time's coverage. Our viewers loved it! You can't just pull them out-"

"-I'm sorry sir but we don't think-" Vishal cut him off only to be cut off by Jay.

"Is it the project? Suddenly a white girl walks in and you all are racing to help her?" The director asked, an angry frown etched on his face.

Vishal stayed silent.

"Where was this energy when the students protested against the raised fee? Or when the farmers were dying due to the high taxes?" Jay raised an eyebrow at him.

Vishal sighed, "Sir, now you're projecting-"

"-Oh give it a rest! Let me tell you something, the foreigners who strut in claiming to help India, to make it better, are all lies! They don't care about us, it's all a Disneyland tour for them. They just wanna taste our food, see forts, ride elephants and go. This is the truth, get it into your head." Jay lectured him, pressing the last words.

Etasha sighed inaudibly and focused back to her work. Even though she knew there was some truth in Jay's words, he should start accepting that not all foreigners are like that.

Etasha hopes Myra is different, if not Vishal is staking high for nothing.

Vishal looked down and shook his head. "Maybe you're right, or maybe not but I can't do politics. It's just not me. And if my team doesn't want it then I won't force them."

Jay stared at him, "They are not your team, Nayaer." He stated impassively.

"I chose them myself-" Vishal started but Jay cut him off abruptly.

"But I pay them dammit!" He glared at him.

A brief pregnant silence followed after that. Vishal decided to settle this.

"Sir, it's as simple as this. I won't cover politics and I won't force the team to do that. Either you agree and divert this to another team or you let me go and take over the team."

Vishal dropped the bomb about his resignation casually. Etasha looked at Jay who was taken aback by his words just as her. Etasha knew it was a long-overdue, with Jay's short temper and Vishal's ego as big as India gate walkway. This was bound to happen. Vishal would prefer to be jobless than do the work that he can't put his heart into.

It was Vishal's most infuriating yet admiring quality. Etasha complained to him often that he needs to bend his rules now and then to survive in the world but he isn't Vishal if he listens.

"Fine," Jay sighed. "I will assemble another team for the elections but I warned you Vishal. You're wasting a lot of man hours on an aimless hunt."

"I don't think so, sir. But I'll keep that in mind." Vishal nodded, a bit relieved that they came to an agreement soon.

He took his leave and left the editor's room. As soon as he stepped out Jay shook his head and walked towards Etasha.

"That stubborn bastard! He knows I won't fire him!" He pinched his nose bridge in frustration.

Etasha took off her glasses and focused her sharp yet tired eyes at him.

"It was the same stubbornness that impressed your dad to hire him."

Jay glared at her, his ears tinting red in anger, not appreciating her for throwing the facts on his face.

Etasha laughed at his angry hulk face, one that she personally loved to see.

"So now you decide to speak?" He threw his hands up dramatically. "You could've backed me up a little there." He complained.

She pursed her lips, "I don't wanna steal the boss' son's thunder," She said, deliberately trying to get under his nerves and got successful.

He looked like a cute anime character with his nose flaring and lips puckering when his temper hit the maximum.

He scoffed, "First of all I'm not the boss' son. I'm the fucking director and second of all, fuck you, Etasha!"

He spat and stormed off flustered. Etasha laughed hysterically behind him, amused at how easily he gets flared up.

"Arey! I was just joking! Jay?" She got up from her seat laughing and followed him.

"Brutus!" She muttered his nickname under her breath trying to catch up behind him.

***
Myra had a long day in the library. It was late evening by the time she reached home.

Her day went more productive than she thought it would. She read numerous articles and news clippings, some more research and projects done by other journalists. She noted down current and previous 10 year old crime statistics in case she needed them.

She already felt like she knew everything but that's far more likely considering the fact that she knew nothing.

She has to create notes and add key points, start working out over everything that she read today, hurl them out on the paper before her head explodes.

She sunk into her sofa, throwing her head back and stretched her neck left and right.

A soft shrill of her door bell caught her attention. She wondered who it was at this time. She hasn't heard from Vishal all day and she didn't order any food nor did she know any neighbours, so the fact that someone rang her bell alarmed her.

Mustering up some courage she opened the door and met Vishal dressed in a black tee and light grey joggers, the most casual appearance he had pulled since she met him.

He let himself in and turned to her. He seemed in a hurry, tensed as she observed.

"What is it?"

Wordlessly, he took out his phone and showed her some messages. She couldn't comprehend what they were about but one particularly stood out.

"Breaking news Vishal! 15 year old Diya Matre, the girl kidnapped a year back was found in an explicit porn video. Police are keeping it highly confidential. This is so sick! I can't stop thinking about the poor parents."

Blood left out from her face reading the news. The person was right, it is the most sick and monstrous thing to happen to a girl but this still doesn't answer why Vishal came running here to show her this.

She looked at Vishal confused and concerned at the same time.

"What is this?"

He switched off his phone and looked at her with determination.

"That Myra, is going to be our cover story."

****
Long chapter! I know I'm sorry <3

Hope you guys like this turn of events. A lot happened in this chapter but it's time that we dive into some real story.

A warning repeat! There will be a lot about woman kidnappings and abuse, all based on facts and inspired from true events. The main reason I decided to write this is, people should know what kind of injustice is happening against women.

If it's triggering I won't suggest you to continue but in reality, I think all women need to know what lies on the dark side. So please do give this book a try. 🙏🏻

Thank you for those who are continuing. Love you so much!

~Aurora.