[Umavictor32]

Chapter 30: The Price of Loyalty

[Location: Saroja's house, Porur | Day: Friday | Date: 8th January 2027 | Time: 6:30 PM]

The gate clanged shut behind Chithra as she stepped into the courtyard.

Saroja sat on the verandah steps in a faded green saree, a steel tumbler of tea cooling beside her. The evening light caught the grey in her hair, and her eyes—sharp, assessing—followed Chithra's approach without warmth.

"Vanakkam," Chithra said.

Saroja didn't return the greeting. "You came. I expected Muthu or Sethuraman. Not you."

"They sent me." Chithra climbed the steps and sat on the verandah, a respectful distance away. The stone was cool through her pink baby doll dress. "I wanted to talk to you myself."

"Talk." Saroja's mouth twisted. "You think talk will fix what they did to me?"

Chithra was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Tell me what you want."

"I want nothing from them."

"Then why are you still here? Why haven't you left already?"

Saroja's eyes narrowed. The silence stretched.

"Because I want to hear you beg," she said finally. "The woman who broke Muthu Pandi. The widow who tamed the beast. I want to see you on your knees."

Chithra didn't flinch. "If that's what it takes, I'll kneel. Tell me your price."

Saroja laughed—a short, ugly sound. "My price? You think I have a price?"

"Everyone has a price."

"Not me. I made up my mind. I'm not coming back."

Chithra nodded slowly. She didn't argue. She just sat there, breathing the same air, letting the silence do its work. The night insects had started their chorus. Somewhere, a TV played faint film music.

"Four years ago," Chithra said, "I read about the Periyamalai University protest in the newspaper. A group of college activists protesting Sethuraman's honorary doctorate. The biggest achievement was that it was led by two women. A teacher—Keerthy, thirty-four. And her student, Riya Bhaskar, twenty-one."






Saroja's face went still.

"After two days, they vanished. The protest ended. And since it was during the first phase of corona, the news was buried." Chithra paused. "You know what happened to them."

"I know." Saroja's voice was barely a whisper.

"What was your role?"

Saroja looked away. Her jaw worked. "That's not a question I'll answer tonight."

"Then tell me this—if you leave the party, will you tell the media what happened to them?"

Saroja turned back. Her eyes were wet, but her voice was steel. "If I'm not given the respect I deserve, I will. I'll tell them everything. Not just about the university. About the bribes. The booth capturing. The murders. Everything."

Chithra held her gaze. "What do you want, Saroja?"

"A minister post."

The words hung in the air.

"And a house," Saroja continued. "Like Muthu's in Besant Nagar. With a sea view. I've worked for twenty years. I've broken my back for Sethuraman. I've cleaned up his messes, silenced his enemies, done things no woman should have to do. And what did I get? A pat on the head and a backroom seat."

Chithra said nothing.

"If I don't get it," Saroja said, "I won't just leave the party. I'll take five MLAs with me. Maybe more. And I'll go to the media. I'll expose Sethuraman's Periyamalai University incident. I'll tell them exactly what happened to Keerthy and Riya."

"Can you give me a moment?" Chithra asked.

Saroja waved her hand. "Do what you want."

---

Chithra walked to the back room—a small storeroom with a single bulb and a dusty window. She pulled out her phone. Dialed Sethuraman first.

He picked up on the second ring. "Chithra?"

"Sir, I spoke to her. She wants a minister post. And a house in Besant Nagar like Muthu's. If not, she says she'll take five MLAs with her and go to the media about Periyamalai University."

A long pause. Then: "That's all?"

"She mentioned Keerthy and Riya. She knows what happened to them. She was part of it."

Another pause. Longer this time.

"I'll call you back," Sethuraman said, and the line went dead.

Chithra called Muthu next.

"Are you okay?" he asked immediately.

"I'm fine. I'm with Saroja. She made her demands."

"I heard. Sethuraman just called me." His voice was tight. "Come home. Now."

"I can't. Not yet."

"Chithra—"

"Let me finish this."

---

Twenty-eight minutes later, Saroja's phone buzzed.

She picked it up, stared at the screen. Her face changed—the hardness cracking, something like disbelief taking its place.




"Three crores," she said slowly. "Deposited. Just now."

Before she could say more, her phone rang. She answered. Listened. Her eyes found Chithra's.

"Education Minister," she said after she hung up. "Sethuraman spoke to Joseph Vetrivel. The Chief Minister agreed."

Chithra let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Saroja looked at the phone in her hand. Then at Chithra. "He's taking me to meet the CM. Day after tomorrow. January tenth. Nine in the morning."

"That's good," Chithra said.

"I agreed." Saroja's voice was flat, as if she didn't quite believe it herself. "I'll meet Muthu then. At his house. Nine AM."

Chithra nodded.

Then her phone rang. Sethuraman.

"Chithra," he said, "I need you to stay with Saroja until the tenth. Two days. I don't want opposition members getting to her. Can you do that?"

"I—"

Muthu's voice cut in from somewhere behind Sethuraman. "No. Absolutely not. She's coming home."

"Muthu, listen—"

"No. I said no."

Chithra heard the strain in his voice. The fear. She closed her eyes.

"I'll stay," she said.

Silence.

"Chithra—" Muthu started.

"I'll be fine," she said. "Two days. Then I'll come home."

The line went quiet. When Muthu spoke again, his voice was hoarse.

"Two days. Then I'm coming to get you myself."

Chithra smiled—a small, tired thing.

"I know."

She hung up.

Saroja was watching her from the verandah steps, the phone still clutched in her hand, the three crores burning a hole in her account.

"Well," Saroja said. "It seems we're roommates."

Chithra sat down beside her.

The night deepened. The insects sang. And somewhere in Besant Nagar, a man stared at his phone, counting the hours until he could see her again.