Blooming Beyond - Part 2

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The air carries more than the chill of autumn today—something unsaid lingers between the leaves and a thread awaits to be found.

Rated M- Mature themes, implied violence

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Without a Doubt

Daliah arrived a few minutes early at the rendezvous point. She lurked in the park, taking in the tranquility of the scenery. Golden leaves already draped the ground as the thin autumn air carried sharp chills under the collar. She centered her thoughts and ran the evidence she already had, over and over in her head. Riko's family had enough to bring the case up to a jury based on the work she had already done—however shaky the foundation. What really drove her at this point was none other than the truth. It was undeniable that Mr. Meshram was hiding more than he let on.

She soon spotted the man in the distance and waved to him. He seemed guarded, as to be expected, but less tensed than the first time they spoke.

"Ms. Loden, I can't say that it's a pleasure."
The woman grinned lightly.
"Thank you for meeting me. I wasn't sure you would show."
"Let's keep this short. Walk with me."

Mr. Meshram quietly led the way as if answering the forthcoming questions without facing them upfront would be easier—Daliah was fine with it, whatever made him feel comfortable, so long as she got the answers she needed. She pulled a small notepad out of her pocket and eventually spoke after a short awkward beat of leaves crisping under their steps.



“I won't beat around the bush, Mr. Meshram. I know you want this encounter to be over...
What happened the night after the wedding?”

The man sighed deeply. He had expected that question, but the sting of it remained real every time.

“Riko and I spent the evening together after the reception. We were happy… it was beautiful.”
“You told the police you woke up beside her, the next morning, and she was —quote— ‘gone.’ This may sound bold, but were you there the whole night?”

His neck flinched, and he almost turned back for a second.

“Of course I was. What kind of husband wouldn’t be?”
“Pardon my bluntness, Mr. Meshram — how did you not wake up while your wife was being asphyxiated? Dying next to you in bed? Unless there’s something you need to tell me.”
“I didn’t kill Riko.”

Daliah paused and looked up, even though she could only see his back. She had expected a hint of deception or at least outrage to that question, but the man had responded with conviction. Either he was cold-blooded, or he was actually telling the truth.

She took a few notes and continued.

“Had anything unusual happened in the days before? Any fight?”
“Stop. I know what you’re doing." His tone turned impatient.
"You and I both know what the evidence says. I didn’t do this.”
“Her family told me she’d been having recurring nightmares. Strange dreams, second thoughts about the wedding even, but nothing the police followed up on.”

Dario turned around, visibly stunned. The man muttered a few words in disbelief before they became comprehensible.

“Shit. Why didn’t she tell me… I could have—. I should’ve called the wedding off. I should’ve—”
“Mr. Meshram…"
Daliah was taken aback by what was probably the most genuine reaction she had gotten from him so far.
"You don’t read like someone who would hurt their wife. Something isn’t adding up.
Did anyone want to harm her? Was she getting threats?”

The man barely pulled himself together. His composure had crumbled down into an anxious gaze that quickly hardened as the words came back.

“I will repeat myself: stay away from this case."
"This is worse than I thought," he mumbled to himself "I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

The man stormed away after a moment of hesitation. Daliah didn't think twice about stepping after him. She had stumbled onto a thread that could unravel everything. Letting the man slip away was no option.

“Mr. Meshram—let me help you.” She called out, rushing after him.
“You can’t. Don’t show up at my house again.”
“Think about your daughter. If your life is in danger, I can—”
Dario erupted in anger and desperation.
“STAY AWAY FROM SHAYLA!”
His voice tore through the air, charged and trembling.

The woman remained speechless; the outburst had caught her completely off guard. She watched him fume off without looking back and quickly understood he had left behind a subtle clue that could help explain everything. A small breadcrumb she hadn't been able to see before. His late bride's death seemed to be directly linked to his daughter, and to those who wished to harm them—unless the man was somehow covering for—. Daliah shook the somber thought out of her head and refused to jump to conclusions. 

The Meshrams weren’t innocent—not completely. That much, she was certain of now. She simply needed to find the additional variable to the story. The key to it was, without a doubt: Shayla. The woman knew what she ought to do next.

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