Family of Shaows

[sexonmind]

Chapter 1: Shadows of the Quarters 

The steady hum of the ceiling fan echoed through the silent house as the mourners left one by one. Aruna stood in the corner, her small eyes scanning the emptying hall with a detached expression. She wore a white saree, neatly draped, her tall, curvy frame casting a shadow against the fading afternoon light.  Her father’s sudden death had shocked many, but for Aruna, it was more complicated than grief. His death meant she would now have to live with her stepbrother Babu and his overbearing mother. 

Babu’s mother, Sunanda, was everything Aruna despised—strong, authoritative, and unapologetically confident in her power. As a high-ranking government officer, she commanded respect in her professional circle and at home. To Aruna, though, Sunanda was nothing more than an obstacle to be tolerated. 

“Aruna, beta,” Sunanda said, her tone firm but cordial, “This is your home now. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need.” 

Aruna forced a smile. “Thank you, aunty. I’ll try not to be a burden.” 

Babu, standing awkwardly to the side, smiled nervously. At twenty, he was tall but carried a slight chubbiness, his round face framed by long, unkempt hair. He adored his mother and had always admired Aruna from afar, despite the coldness she often directed his way. 

“You’ll like it here, Akka” Babu said, his voice gentle. “We’ll make sure you’re comfortable.” 

Aruna nodded but said nothing. Comfortable? That was never the plan. She knew exactly what she wanted: security. She had no intention of working, despite her education just to be burden on Sunanda, and she trusted Sunanda’s sense of duty to take care of her, at least for the foreseeable future.  As the days passed, Aruna began to settle into the household. She wore her sarees meticulously, presenting an image of a grieving but dignified woman. Sunanda ensured she had everything she needed, from a spacious room to financial support, but Aruna’s mind was always calculating, observing the dynamics between mother and son. 

Babu, oblivious to his step-sister’s disdain, tried his best to include her in conversations and family meals. His innocence was both endearing and frustrating to Aruna, who couldn’t fathom how someone could be so naive. 

“Babu,” she said one evening, her voice soft and sweet, “You’re such a kind soul. It’s no wonder your mother raised you so well.” 

Babu’s face lit up, his dark wheatish complexion glowing under the dim light. “Thank you, Akka. I’m just glad you’re here with us.” 

She smiled, but her thoughts were elsewhere. For Aruna, every word and gesture was a carefully constructed move in a game she intended to win. 

A few days passed by, the house settling into a quiet rhythm as everyone adjusted to the new normal. Aruna spent her time observing the household dynamics, while Sunanda buried herself in her demanding work. Then, one evening, Purushotham visited. He leaned against the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning the room with practiced ease. At thirty, he exuded an easy confidence, his lean frame and broad shoulders giving him a commanding presence. Purushotham had been a constant presence through the family’s hardest times—when Babu’s father was in the hospital, and the fragile threads holding their lives together began to unravel.

 “Aunty,” he said, his voice low but firm, “How are you” he added.

Sunanda looked at him, her face lighting up. His presence felt like a reassuring anchor in her now turbulent world. Despite her position and financial stability, the lack of family support weighed heavily on her. As a second wife, she had been shunned by both her family and her late husband’s relatives. The house, spacious and well-furnished, felt emptier with each passing day. 

“Not good, Purushotham,” she replied, her tone formal. “But, We’ll manage.” 

Babu stood nearby, listening quietly. He admired Purushotham, not just for his loyalty to the family but also for the way he seemed to command respect wherever he went. 

“Purushotham, will you stay for dinner?” Babu asked, his voice hopeful. 

Purushotham smiled. “Not tonight, Babu. But I’ll visit soon.” 

Aruna, sitting in a corner, observed the interaction with mild interest. She had met Purushotham only a handful of times, but there was something about him that piqued her curiosity. He was cunning—that much was clear—and his charm wasn’t lost on her. 

“Aruna,” Purushotham said, turning to her, “You’re settling in well, I hope?” 

She nodded, her lips curving into a practiced smile. “Yes, thank you. It’s been... an adjustment.” 

“Good,” he replied, his tone unreadable. “This family needs stability now more than ever.” 

Aruna wondered what role Purushotham played in their lives. He seemed deeply involved, yet distant, as if he was there when needed but careful not to overstep. His presence lingered even after he left, a reminder that the family’s web of relationships was more complex than it appeared. 

The government quarters were a sprawling complex surrounded by manicured gardens and guarded gates. For Sunanda, it was simply where she lived—a functional space close to her office. But for Aruna, it was an opportunity she wasn’t going to waste.  After Babu left for college in a different city, the dynamic of the household shifted. With Sunanda engrossed in her demanding job, Aruna had the run of the place. The servants, assigned by the government, attended to every need—cleaning, cooking, and running errands. 

“Aruna Madam, would you like tea?” the housemaid asked one lazy afternoon. 

“Yes, make it strong,” Aruna replied, reclining on the plush sofa in the living room. She had adjusted to this lifestyle with remarkable ease, her conservative demeanor masking her growing sense of entitlement. 

Sunanda returned home late most evenings, her shoulders heavy with the weight of bureaucracy. She rarely had time to notice the subtle changes in Aruna’s behavior—the way she had begun to treat the servants as her personal staff or the way she subtly rearranged the house to suit her tastes. 

“Aruna,” Sunanda said one evening as they sat down for dinner, “Have you thought about looking for work? You’re educated and capable. It might do you good to have something to focus on.” 

Aruna smiled politely. “I appreciate your concern, aunty, but I’m still adjusting to everything. Maybe in a few months.” 

Sunanda didn’t press further, her exhaustion overtaking her desire to argue. 

As the weeks passed, Aruna grew more comfortable, exploring the perks of living in government quarters. She indulged in the luxuries without hesitation, her small eyes glinting with satisfaction as she instructed the cook to prepare elaborate meals or sent the driver on unnecessary errands.  For Aruna, this wasn’t just a phase it was a carefully calculated step toward her menacing goals.

Few days later as Aruna entered the Kitchen, Sunanda sat at the dining table, a stack of biodata sheets spread out before her. Each sheet represented a potential match for Aruna, but the list was short, and the task was proving more challenging than she had anticipated. 

“Aruna,” Sunanda said, her voice soft but determined, “You’re not getting any younger. It’s time we find someone for you. I’ve already spoken to a few families.” 

Aruna looked up from her book, her expression calm. “Aunty, I’m in no hurry. Besides, marriage at my age is… complicated.” 

“Nonsense!” Sunanda replied. “You’re well-educated, traditional, and beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you.” 

Despite Sunanda’s optimism, the process was far from easy. The men she found were either older widowers or middle-aged bachelors with their own quirks. When Sunanda finally managed to arrange a few meetings, Aruna dismissed them all with carefully crafted excuses. 

“He seems too focused on his business,” she said of one man. 

“This one doesn’t value tradition enough,” she said of another. 

Each rejection was accompanied by a reason that seemed plausible, at least to Sunanda, who believed in Aruna’s conservative values and purity. While Aruna’s motivations were more cunning, rooted in her determination to destroy the family.

During one of his visits, Purushotham noticed the tension in the household as Sunanda grew increasingly frustrated with Aruna’s rejections. “Aruna,” he said, his tone firm yet measured, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Sunanda is trying her best. Give these men a chance.” Aruna tilted her head, her small eyes narrowing as her voice took on a sweet but calculated tone. “Purushotham, you know how important compatibility is. I can’t settle for just anyone.” Her words, though seemingly reasonable, carried an undercurrent of defiance that didn’t escape him.

Purushotham smirked but said nothing. He had seen through people enough times to know when someone was playing a game. Still, he valued his friendship with the family too much to push the matter further. Sunanda, meanwhile, remained convinced of Aruna’s sincerity. “She just needs the right person,” she told herself, unaware of Aruna’s true intentions.  For Aruna, these rejections weren’t about finding the right man. They were about maintaining her current lifestyle—a life of comfort and freedom, supported by Sunanda’s unwavering trust. 

Time passed by;

The news of Sunanda’s selection for the national-level conference brought a wave of excitement and pride to the household. It was a prestigious opportunity, one that reaffirmed her status as a respected officer. 

“I’ll be away for four days,” Sunanda informed Aruna over breakfast, her tone brimming with both enthusiasm and responsibility. “The conference is important, and I’ll be traveling with my team.” 

Aruna’s expression shifted immediately. “Four days? What about me? I can’t stay here alone, aunty. What if something happens?” 

Sunanda sighed. “Aruna, this is a secure government complex. Nothing will happen.” 

But Aruna persisted, her voice trembling as she added, “You don’t understand. I’ve never been alone for so long. I… I won’t feel safe.” 

Sunanda looked at her stepdaughter, guilt flickering across her face. She was torn between her professional duties and her belief that Aruna truly needed her. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached for her phone. 

“I’ll call Babu,” she said. 

When Babu answered, Sunanda explained the situation. “Babu, I need you to come home for four days. Aruna isn’t comfortable staying alone, and I’ll be away for the conference.” 

Babu didn’t hesitate. “Of course, Amma. I’ll apply for leave today and take the first train home.”  For Sunanda, it was a compromise she was willing to make. She trusted Babu to handle things in her absence, even if she couldn’t shake the feeling that Aruna’s fear might be exaggerated. 

The evening before Sunanda’s departure was a whirlwind of preparation. Papers were neatly packed, files double-checked, and travel arrangements confirmed. Purushotham arrived unannounced, as he often did, his usual smirk in place. 

“Congratulations, Aunty,” he said, handing her a small bouquet of flowers. “A national-level conference , quite the achievement.” 

Sunanda accepted the flowers with a polite smile. “Thank you, Purushotham. It’s a big responsibility, but I’m ready.” 

Aruna watched the exchange from the corner of the room, her expression unreadable. She had grown used to Purushotham’s frequent visits but remained wary of his intentions.