Chapter 13: The Distance Between

“Let’s go to Dehradun.”
Riya spoke casually as she poured coffee into two mugs.

Kabir, lounging on the hotel couch in his black T-shirt and military fatigues, nearly choked on his biscuit.

“You mean… your Dehradun? As in your entire-industrialist-dynasty-of-a-family Dehradun?”

“Yes. It’s Baba’s birthday. I want to be there. We should be there.”

Kabir looked at her like she’d asked him to face a firing squad.

“Do you not remember the last time I went with you? Remember how your family was looking at me?”

Riya narrowed her eyes playfully.

“Oh, I remember! You showed up in full uniform! Like we were walking into a hostage negotiation instead of a family lunch. It was your fault, Kabir.”

Kabir smirked.

“Says the girl who blurted ‘This is my boyfriend!’ before your Dadu could even blink. I wasn’t briefed for that level of intimacy.”

“It was true! I was excited!” Riya defended, laughing.

“And your Badi Mummy kept asking me if I had a backup plan in case I got court-martialled.”

“You cracked such lame jokes in front of them! They were worried about your job and our country, too!”

Riya giggled, leaning into him.

“They love you now. Especially Baba. You have to come. Please?”

Kabir hesitated. The idea of belonging still made him nervous. But Riya’s eyes sparkled with so much excitement… how could he say no?

“Okay,” he mumbled, defeated. “Should I put on my uniform?”

Riya hit him with a pillow lying next to her.

---

Arjun stood in front of the investigation board, arms folded, eyes narrowed. Red pins. Names. Dates. Photographs of the botched drill site.

The leak.

Someone had known the location. Someone had passed on information. And Riya had paid the price.

“Shree. Chotu. I want a full trace. Who accessed the briefing file before the drill? IP addresses. Who knew about the drill? All of it.”

Shree nodded, serious for once.

“Already started, sir.”

Chotu, leaning forward, added,

“You think someone on the inside did this?”

Arjun didn’t respond. But his silence was loud enough.

Chotu cleared his throat.

“She won’t last long here, sir. Not if people keep targeting her. Better if she goes.”

Arjun said nothing. He simply stared at the board.

But inside him, a storm brewed.

He stepped out of the room and made his way to the pantry, needing the familiar comfort of the hot brown drink that kept him steady in times of chaos. As he waited, his gaze landed on a crumpled piece of paper lying near the trash bin — a bank receipt.

Amount: ₹1,00,000
Depositor: Riya Mukherjee
Beneficiary: Shambhu Das

Arjun’s brows furrowed instantly.
"Why would Riya Mukherjee transfer a lakh to the ETF caretaker?"

He sat back, tapping the edge of the paper against the desk. Something didn’t sit right.

Was she being naïve again? Or was it something deeper?

He opened his drawer and slipped the receipt inside, but not before eyeing it one last time.

A question nagged him: What exactly is this girl doing behind the scenes?

---

The car barely halted before the giant wrought-iron gate, surrounded by pine trees, old brickwork, and the warmth of home, when Riya was already halfway out, arms flailing with excitement.

“Haan chalti gaadi se kood jaa! Break toh lagane de, Riya!” Kabir laughed, stumbling out behind her, clutching theirduffle bags.

The double-storeyed bungalow in Dehradun looked just the same as Kabir remembered—elegant, old-money kind of beautiful, tucked away amidst flowering gardens and white balconies. The kind of place that echoed warmth... and expectations. It was a palace.

The moment the main door opened; it was chaos.

“RIYAAAAA!” came the synchronized cry from all corners of the house.

Dadu and Dadi reached her first, wrapping her in tight hugs, followed by her Ma and Papa, and then her Bade Papa and Badi Mummy. The twin brothers, Tirth and Trupt, pushed past everyone else, lifting Riya off her feet like she was a ragdoll.

In the background stood Kabir, smiling softly, respectfully silent.

It wasn’t until Riya noticed the distance that she turned to him, gesturing animatedly.

“Family, meet the best mistake of my life, again—Kabir! This time without uniform”

That broke the formality for a moment—several amused glances exchanged—but the air was still tentative.

Kabir stepped forward, folding his hands politely, “Namaste.”

There was warmth in their smiles, but also reservation.

“Namaste, beta,” her mother said graciously, while others just scanned him- top to bottom.

“Enough for a background check,” Tirth muttered under his breath. Kabir caught it, but smiled anyway.

---

Chotu was hunched over the surveillance logs while Shree clicked through network activity.

“Here… look at this. The mock drill location file was opened six hours before the team was even briefed.”, Shree finally spoke.

“And it wasn’t by any of us. Rathore sir’s out of town, and it wasn’t Arjun Sir, you or me.”,Chotu added.

Arjun looked up. “So, someone with secondary clearance?”

“Exactly. Someone who knew their way around just enough not to trigger security.”

Shree tapped a few more keys, frustration growing.

“They covered their tracks well… but not well enough. Look—entry into the archive room at 3:07 AM. Same day.”

Chotu frowned. “Riya has access to the archive room, but not the logs. That means someone else…”

They exchanged a look—grim, knowing.

“We’re dealing with an insider.”, Arjun finally concluded.

---

As the family sat for evening tea on the front veranda, the conversation began light—travels, work, Kabir’s regiment. Riya’s Baba hadn’t arrived yet, and Kabir felt the absence.

But slowly, the walls began to lower.

What started as polite small talk slowly turned into shared laughter.

It was when Dadu asked Kabir about his worst mission experience, and Kabir mimicked a fainting goat as a reference toa certain wild assignment, that everyone burst into laughter.

Even Badi Mummy was clutching her sides, laughing freely.

And when Kabir automatically reached over to offer Riya her favourite chocolate brownies before accepting them himself, brushing a stray curl away from her forehead as she groaned about her never-ending ETF paperwork—her Ma and Badi Maa noticed.

They didn’t say anything. But they smiled. Quietly at each other.

Then Dadi whispered something to Ma, both watching Kabir—watching how he looked at Riya.

With reverence. Like she was his anchor.

As the evening wore on, Riya slipped inside to get changed.

Kabir was helping Tirth and Trupt stack chairs when Baba finally arrived—the eldest son of the family, tall, white-haired, with eyes that had seen more than most.

Kabir straightened immediately and offered a formal salute, before awkwardly realizing it wasn’t that kind of meeting.

Baba gave him a long, measuring look, and then a kind smile.

“This time, you don’t look like trouble,” he said.

“I’m very good at hiding it, Sir”, Kabir replied earnestly.

Baba chuckled. “You’re already better than these two clowns,” he pointed at the twins.

---

As the day passed without any visible progress, Arjun slammed a file shut, the sound snapping the mild silence in the room. Shree and Chotu, seated across the table, looked up.

“I found this.” Arjun held up a crumpled receipt. “A transfer of one lakh rupees from Riya Mukherjee to Shambhu Das. The caretaker.”

Shree raised an eyebrow. Chotu leaned in slightly.

“Shambhu?”, Chotu was confused, “Why is Riya giving him so much money?”

“Exactly. Something’s off. I want a full trail. Cross-check the dates, contact logs And…”
“Go through the bank account too.”

“You want his bank account investigated?”, Shree cross-checked as to whose bank details he is referring to.

Arjun nodded curtly—already turning to the next page of the case file—mistaking Shree’s interpretation as agreement.

“Shree, I want results before anything else leaks out again. This can’t be ignored.”

“Got it, Sir.”

Arjun’s intention was clear — he wanted Shree to investigate Riya's financial transactions, especially in light of the suspicious ₹1 lakh transfer to Shambhu. However, amidst the rush and tension, Shree had misinterpreted the instruction, believing that Arjun was referring to Shambhu, not Riya.

---

In the evening, Shree walked in with a printout and dropped it gently on Arjun’s desk. Arjun looked up with his usual unreadable stare.

“Sir. Got confirmation from the bank. But… it’ll take at least 15-20 hours. Official clearance is delayed because the account isn’t registered under active investigation.”, Shree referred to Shambhu’s account.

Arjun let out a frustrated sigh.

“Of course it isn’t. No one ever investigates the invisible ones.”

He stood up, paced for a second, and turned toward both Shree and Chotu.

“In the meantime, get me custody of that man Riya caught during the drill. The one in lockup. No excuses.”

“But sir, the court didn’t approve a full remand yet. He's being kept under detainment.”, Chotu spoke.

“Then go through proper channels. Get the form. Push the request. Make them sign it. You’ve got one full day tomorrow. I want him in our interrogation room by Monday morning.”, Arjun’s reply was cold.

Shree nodded, sensing the intensity wasn’t just about a security leak anymore—it was personal now.

“Done, Sir!”

---

Later that night, after dinner, the air was cold, but the house was buzzing with warm lights and easy chatter.

Riya was inside, helping Dadi arrange gifts for Baba’s birthday, while Kabir stepped out alone to the garden, hoping for a breath of quiet.

He didn’t expect Baba to follow.

They sat together on the wooden bench under the guava tree. Silence at first.

Then Baba spoke, voice calm and fatherly.

“I’ve seen many men in this world, Kabir. Some carry ambition. Some carry arrogance. You... carry solitude.”

Kabir looked down, swallowing a tight breath.

“I’ve been alone most of my life. Orphan. Never had a family.” he admitted. “I never expected much. But with Riya… I found something I never knew I was missing. In fact, I found everything.”

Riya's loud laughter rang through the house, catching the attention of both men, who instinctively turned toward the sound. When their gazes returned to each other, wide smiles lit up their faces. Kabir lowered his eyes, a touch of shyness softening his expression.

Baba placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We don’t mind your past. Or where you come from. That doesn’t define you. But Riya… she’s our heart. We’ve seen her fall, get hurt, pick herself up. If her smile exists in you, then I only ask you one thing…”

“Protect it. Not just from the world. But from yourself too.”

Kabir felt a strange lump in his throat, one he hadn’t let form in years.

Baba patted his shoulder.

“Walk with her. Not behind. Not ahead. Just with her. That’s all she’ll ever need.”

Kabir had no words. He just nodded; eyes glassy.

And before either of them could pretend to be stronger than they were, Kabir hugged him.

Tightly.

A real, full hug. The kind he never received growing up. The kind he never imagined he would ever crave.

---

Late night at Arjun’s Quarters, the file lay open on his desk, the bank receipt neatly clipped to the top page.

₹1,00,000.Transferred from: Riya Mukherjee. To: Shambhu Das.
Date: One day before the mock drill.

Arjun leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the paper, brows furrowed like they’d been stitched that way.

“One lakh to a caretaker? Why?”, Arjun muttered to himself.

He had been staring at that receipt for nearly fifteen minutes. The math didn’t add up. It was suspicious—too coincidental.

He reached out, grabbed the file again, flipped the pages like he was hoping for a confession to fall out of it.

“What if she’s hiding something? What if she… knew something we didn’t?”

But the thought came to an abrupt halt—like slamming into a wall.

His eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where his black combat jacket still hung, stiff with dried blood.

Her blood.

Riya's.

He swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

He remembered the way she lay curled behind that rusted crate, one hand pressed against her bleeding arm.

That small, defiant smile on her face.

Like she wasn’t the one bleeding.

Like she hadn’t just faced real bullets for a mock drill that spiralled out of control.

He hadn’t even thought. He’d just scooped her into his arms—her body slumped, her breath shaky, his mind going blank except for one word looping again and again:

“Not again.”

He clenched his jaw now, the memory too raw.

“She smiled. Bleeding—and she smiled.”

He hated how that image stuck in his mind.

How it tugged something inside him loose.

How it scared the hell out of him.

His eyes flicked back to the receipt.

“She’s reckless. Always trying to prove something. Maybe… this was part of that. Maybe she bribed someone. Or… helped someone she shouldn’t.”

But even his own words lacked conviction.

She wasn’t stupid. Emotional—yes. Impulsive—maybe. But not corrupt.

So why did he still feel this… ache?

Why did her name stir more than just duty?

He stood up abruptly and walked to the jacket, brushing a finger over the faded crimson stain.

The guilt coiled in his chest like a slow-burning fire.

“I told you to fall back…”

He exhaled, leaning against the wall, palms pressed against his knees.

Was he angry at her? Or angry at himself—for caring too much?

His mind screamed logic.

His heart—traitorous as it was—whispered something else.

Something dangerous.

He closed the file.

But her smile wouldn’t leave his head.

---

Next morning, as the car revved up in the driveway, the family gathered again to send them off. Riya pouted dramatically.

“I hate goodbyes.”

“You’ll come back,” Dadu said confidently.

“And bring him again,” Dadi added, eyeing Kabir with fondness now.

Baba held Kabir’s arm a second longer than needed as he shook his hand.

“Don’t be a stranger, son.”

Kabir couldn’t find words. He only nodded, heart full, eyes a little moist.

As the car pulled away from the house, Riya looked over at him.

“You, okay, Dulhan?”

Kabir didn’t reply for a second.

Then he looked at her, smiled softly, and said, “I’ve never been more okay in my life.”