Station Announcement:
"Passengers boarding for unresolved destinations: the next station may reveal what you weren't ready to remember."
The morning after the storm arrived in silver-grey sheets that blurred sky and river into one restless, trembling surface.The Houseboat Hospice rocked gently, its lanterns swaying like tired, luminous hearts.
Kannan sat on the edge of his cot, hands clasped tightly, staring at the floorboards.
He had not slept.
He had barely breathed.
The memory of Arun's voice still rang in his ears —a voice he knew,a voice he feared,a voice that belonged to someone he had spent half a lifetime running from.
Sara stood in the doorway, watching him.
"You didn't lie down," she said quietly.
He didn't look up.
"I didn't deserve to."
Sara stepped inside, her footsteps soft against the wooden floor.
"Guilt doesn't heal wounds," she said gently. "It deepens them."
He let out a low, broken laugh.
"What if the wound is deserved?"
Sara studied him.
"You said your son was named Akshay."
"Yes."
"And he left."
Kannan's jaw tightened.
"He didn't leave," he whispered."I left him."
1. The Story He Never Meant to Tell
Sara sat across from him, waiting.
Kannan took a deep breath, then exhaled as though forcing poison out of his lungs.
"We lived in a small rented room near Thrissur. His mother died when he was eight. I didn't know how to raise a child. I didn't know how to earn enough. So I…"
His voice collapsed into silence.
"So you ran," Sara finished gently.
He nodded.
"Yes. I went to Tamil Nadu first, then Goa, then finally the Gulf. Every time I left, I told myself it was for him. That I'd send money, that I'd come back with enough to fix everything."
He closed his eyes.
"But the jobs were unstable. The agents cheated me. The debts grew. And every year, I became more ashamed."
His hands trembled violently.
"I wrote letters I never sent," he whispered. "Each one sounding more like a stranger than a father."
Sara swallowed.
"And when you returned?"
He laughed bitterly.
"'Returned.' Such a big word for someone who barely made it past the airport."
He stared at the rain-streaked window.
"I came back to an empty house. New people lived there. They didn't know any Akshay. The neighbours said the boy disappeared after I stopped sending money. Nobody knows where he went."
A pause.
A breath.
A buried ache rising again.
"And I didn't search hard enough," Kannan admitted, eyes burning."Because I was afraid I'd find him dead. Or worse — find him alive and knowing exactly who abandoned him."
Sara exhaled, heart aching.
"And Arun?" she asked softly.
Kannan's expression twisted into confusion and grief.
"He is not Akshay," Kannan said quickly, as if the words might shield him."He can't be. The ages… the timelines… no, he can't be."
Sara watched him carefully.
"But something about him reminds you."
He nodded, defeated.
"Yes."
He dragged a hand across his face.
"It's in his eyes.In his voice.In the way he stands as if bracing for disappointment but still hoping for kindness."
His voice cracked.
"That was Akshay."
2. Arun Overhears
What neither of them realized was that Arun stood just outside the door, frozen.
He hadn't meant to listen.
He had risen early to bring Sara some lemons from the kitchen, and he had stopped when he heard his name.
And then…
Akshay.
Disappeared.
A father who abandoned a son.
A regret that bled through every word.
Arun pressed a hand over his mouth, heart pounding.
He wasn't Akshay.He couldn't be.
But the fear, the emptiness, the longing he had grown up with —it curled tightly around his ribs.
He backed away quietly, breath uneven.
When he reached the deck, he leaned against the railing, eyes burning.
"Who am I to him?" he whispered to the river.
The water didn't answer.
But its silence was deep enough to hurt.
3. A Conversation Interrupted
Later that morning, Arjun arrived to check on Basil and to bring new worksheets for the students.
When he stepped aboard the hospice boat, he immediately sensed the tension.
Sara greeted him softly.
"Kannan is remembering," she murmured.
Arjun nodded.
"I thought he might."
Basil, sitting nearby with a blanket on his lap, watched them.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Arjun hesitated.
Before he could answer, Arun emerged from behind a curtain, face pale.
"I heard everything," he whispered.
Sara stiffened.
Arjun turned sharply.
"Arun…"
Arun shook his head.
"Don't hide it from me," he said. "Please."
Kannan stepped out of his room at that moment.
He froze when he saw Arun —the boy's eyes shining with hurt, fear, and something else.
Recognition?
Hope?
Or grief?
Kannan took a shaky step forward.
"Arun… I…"
But the boy stepped back.
"Don't say it," Arun whispered. "Not yet."
Kannan felt something collapse inside him.
It wasn't rejection.
It was truth, arriving too soon.
Arjun stepped between them gently.
"Everyone breathe," he said.
Arun wiped his eyes roughly.
"I need to think," he whispered."I'm not saying yes or no. I just… need time."
And then he fled.
Basil tried to call after him, but his voice was too weak.
Kannan sank onto a bench, burying his face in his hands.
Sara knelt beside him.
"Kannan," she said softly. "Whatever you're afraid of, you must face it slowly."
He looked up, eyes red.
"I don't deserve even the chance," he said.
"No parent does," Sara replied gently. "But they still hope."
Arjun remained silent, watching the rain gather again over the water.
He knew what it meant to lose a child —even if that child had never been his to begin with.
4. The First Crack in the Shell
Later that evening, as lanterns flickered in the monsoon wind, Arun returned to the boat.
He approached Kannan quietly.
Kannan looked up, startled.
Arun didn't sit.
He simply said:
"If you're hiding something, tell me."
Kannan swallowed.
"I am."
"Then tell me when you're ready," Arun said softly."Because I don't like running. Not anymore."
Kannan's throat tightened.
"What made you come back?" he whispered.
Arun didn't hesitate.
"I've been abandoned before," he said."I don't want to abandon anyone."
The words hit Kannan like a blow.
Arun walked away before Kannan could answer.
But as he stepped toward the exit, the boy paused, looked back, and said:
"Tomorrow."
Kannan blinked.
Arun nodded.
"You can tell me tomorrow."
And then he was gone.
Kannan exhaled shakily.
Tomorrow.
A word that tasted like fear.And hope.
5. Sara Watches the River
Sara stood at the deck's edge watching Arun disappear into the dimming path, rain beginning to fall again.
Arjun came to stand beside her.
"That boy," Arjun murmured, "carries storms inside him."
"And light," Sara added.
Arjun nodded.
"Light waits for storms."
From inside the hospice, Kannan's quiet sobbing drifted out.
Sara closed her eyes.
The river flowed, patient as time.
She whispered:
"The truth is coming.We must hold steady."