Free The Cosmic Clues by Manjiri Prabhu

her manicured hands, subjecting them to a minute examination.
    “But Pradnya, no marriage! Don't you regret it all?” her sister insisted.
    “No, the only thing I miss in life is a child. I always wanted one, but I guess fate had other plans.” Pradnya sighed.
    “Yes, you always loved children and you paid special attention to them. You took them for outings—It must be difficult not to have a kid when you love kids and always wanted one so much,” Medha remarked meditatively.
    “And that's why—”
    Sonia cleared her throat eloquently. “Excuse me, but I haven't quite finished yet.” She took a breath, then, without economizing on her words, she continued. “I can see things in this horoscope, Miss Joshi, subjects which perhaps you would not wish me to discuss as evening chatter. Facts which you may want to hold back from the others. Believe me, I derive no pleasure in raking up the past and making your secrets public. You may stop me at once. If you wish to close the subject, please do so now.”
    An avalanche of emotions broke loose on Pradnya's face. Sonia watched her in immense fascination. Pradnya's hands trembled as she covered her face, wrestling with guilt for a moment. Then she drew them away, steadily. The dredges of conscience proved powerful enough to force this moment of truth. Pradnya knew what Sonia had to say and she had decided not to turn her back on the truth.
    “It's inevitable, isn't it?” she replied. “Perhaps Providence sent you here today, Miss Samarth, to unravel the truth that I never had the nerve to admit, even to myself. This is my chance to bury the past once and for all, and I intend to take it. You will be my spokesperson!”
    Everyone in the room stared at them, intrigued at the enigmatic communication between the two women. Inspector Divekar frowned. Sonia's entire attention remained on her confessor. She held the older woman's gaze and there was something bordering on admiration in her eyes.
    “You said that you miss a child in your life,” Sonia began. “That was only partly true. You do miss him, but not because you don't have a child but because you
have
a son whom you cannot claim as yours!”
    Her words fell like a bomb in the hall. Medha drew in her breath sharply and her eyes darted wildly to her husband. Revati's face registered shock. Even Jatin, who was rather inconspicuous until then, turned in his chair, his mouth agape.
    “This is utter nonsense!” Medha raised her voice, offended to the extreme. “You are insulting my sister—”
    But Pradnya raised her hand to silence her. “Sonia is absolutely right, Medha. Yes, I have a son. One I've never been able to call mine. When . . . when that thief ran away, I . . . I was pregnant, though I didn't realize it until later. I was against abortion. I went to a place where there were no prying eyes and delivered my baby!”
    “Pradnya! You . . . you don't know what you're talking about!” Medha remarked faintly, wildly clutching her husband's hand. Her voice shook uncontrollably.
    Her sister turned to Sonia. “If you could read so much from my horoscope, perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me where he is right now.” She leaned towards Sonia and asked almost defiantly, “Where is my son?”
    Sonia smiled at the older woman's challenging look. “I don't need to read your horoscope for that. I'm already aware of the identity of your son, and of his whereabouts! Your son is right here, in this house, isn't he?”
    Pradnya stared at Sonia in silence. Then she looked at the figure in the corner and smiled sadly. “Yes,” she admitted softly. “Sushil is my unfortunate son.”
    As the words were uttered, all pandemonium broke loose. Medha uttered a loud, hysterical “No!” Kaki, the housekeeper, froze like a statue at the kitchen door. Thunder clapped so deafeningly that everyone jumped, startled, and Revati screamed. Simultaneously a mug crashed. And then, like a masterstroke, the lights went out. The house