Willingly Broken

Chapter 15: The Stolen Motherhood

Three more weeks had passed.

The evidence against them had grown into a mountain.

I had recordings of Lata discussing shipments of precursor chemicals for explosives with foreign contacts. I had bank statements showing millions routed through shell companies linked to known terrorist financiers. I had photos and videos of the three men who raped Charu meeting with Vinu and Sujata in shady hotels. The net was almost ready to close.

Meanwhile, my small pranks had become more brutal and personal.

I started mixing a strong but safe laxative in Lata’s morning coffee, she spent hours in the toilet cursing. I replaced Vinu’s expensive imported moisturizer with one mixed with mild capsaicin, she screamed when she applied it on her private parts. I loosened threads in Sujata’s favourite sarees so they would tear at the worst possible moments.

Every small discomfort I caused gave me dark satisfaction.

But the biggest focus was Charu.

Her delivery was only ten days away. She had become extremely emotional and fearful. She didn’t want to be a mother. The trauma of the rape had left deep scars. She cried almost every day when we met secretly.

“Akka… I don’t want this child… every time I feel it move, I remember those men… I can’t do this…” she sobbed one evening while we were alone in the storeroom.

I hugged her tightly, letting her cry into my chest, my mangalsutra pressing against her face.

“Shh… I’m here. We will find a way. I promise.”

That night, lying beside Murugan with Karthik sleeping between us, an idea came to me.

A dangerous, twisted, perfect idea.

The next morning, after finishing my chores, I went to Murugan while he was getting ready to leave for work.

I stood in front of him, head slightly bowed like a dutiful wife, and spoke softly.

“Husband… I have been thinking. Karthik is growing up. He needs a sibling. Why don’t we have another child?”

Murugan looked surprised, then sad. “Mahalaxmi… you know I can’t give you a child. I am useless in that way.”

I took a deep breath and continued.

“There is a way. Charu… she is pregnant. Six months. She doesn’t want the child. We can take the baby as ours. No one needs to know the truth. We can say it is ours. I can even try to breastfeed if we plan properly.”

Murugan stared at me for a long moment.

Then his eyes filled with tears.

He suddenly lifted me up in his strong arms, spinning me around with pure joy. “Really? You would do that for me? For us?”

He kissed me passionately, his hands roaming over my body with gratitude and love. “You are the best wife any man could ask for. Thank you… thank you…”

I smiled softly, hiding the cold calculation behind my eyes.

Delivery Day

The day Charu went into labour, I made sure I was admitted in the same private hospital.

It was arranged through bribes and fake medical records that I was the one delivering the baby. Charu was kept in a separate room under sedation. Only a few trusted nurses (paid heavily) knew the truth.

I lay on the operation table, heart pounding, as they performed a fake C-section on me (just a small incision for appearance). The baby girl was brought from Charu’s room and placed on my chest immediately.

The moment I held her, tiny, wrinkled, crying, something inside me broke completely.

Tears flowed down my cheeks as I held this innocent life that had come from so much pain. The doctor helped me with induced lactation techniques. Within hours, I was able to feed her for the first time. The feeling of the baby suckling at my breast was overwhelming, a strange mix of maternal love and deep guilt.

Murugan was overjoyed. He cried like a child when he held his “daughter” for the first time. He named her “Meera”.

Karthik, who was brought to the hospital later, was excited to have a little sister.

Murugan took care of me like I had genuinely given birth. He massaged my feet, brought me food, stayed awake at night when Meera cried, and treated me with a tenderness I had never seen from him before.

I lay in the hospital bed, Meera sleeping on my chest, Mangalsutra rising and falling with my breathing, and thought:

I came here to destroy them.

Instead… I have become a mother twice.

And still, I hadn’t pulled the trigger on my revenge.

Not yet.