Mother of Me

Chapter 29: The Mission Begins

The twelfth day after Selvam’s true nature had revealed itself dawned with a fragile but determined resolve in Satyamoorthy Residence.

The new Sangeetha woke up early, her body still aching from the previous night’s violation. Bruises had started forming on her thighs and upper arms, dark fingerprints left by Selvam’s rough grip. Her vagina felt tender and sore, a constant painful reminder. She moved slowly as she got out of bed, wincing with every step. The mangalsutra felt heavier than ever, like a chain around her neck.

She bathed quickly, avoiding looking at herself too long in the mirror. The sight of her mother’s naked body ,now marked by another man’s lust, made her feel sick. She dressed in a simple soft blue cotton saree, draping it carefully to hide the bruises on her arms. She applied extra powder to conceal the redness on her cheek from the slap.

Selvam was still asleep. Pattamma was already in the hall, issuing orders about breakfast. The new Sangeetha cooked silently, serving everyone with downcast eyes. Selvam eventually woke up, ate without speaking much, and left for some “work,” giving her a possessive kiss on the cheek before going.

As soon as he left, the new Sangeetha told the new Prakash, “I’m going to the shop today. I need to talk to Ratish.”

The new Prakash nodded. “I’ll stay here and search the house for evidence documents, phone records, anything that can prove what he really is.”

They shared a quiet, determined look before she left.

At Lace & Grace, the familiar scent of fabric, perfume, and rose sachets greeted her like a hesitant embrace.

The moment she stepped inside, Ratish looked up from behind the counter. His gentle eyes immediately noticed the stiffness in her walk, the way she held her pallu tighter than usual, and the faint redness on her cheek despite the powder.

“Sangeetha ma…” he said softly, concern evident in his voice. “You don’t look okay. What happened?”

Ramya and Priya were busy with customers at the front. Ratish gently led her to the small back room where they kept new stock.

The new Sangeetha sat down on a stool, her hands trembling in her lap. For a long time, she couldn’t speak. Then the words started pouring out carefully edited, but raw with pain.

“My husband… he is not the man he pretends to be,” she whispered. “He has been abusing me. Physically. Last night… he forced himself on me. He slapped me. He tied me up. He said horrible things. He admitted he was involved with terrorists abroad… that he raped women there. He says I belong to him forever.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke. She didn’t mention the body swap, that secret remained locked between her and her “son.”

Ratish listened in stunned silence. His face went from concern to pure fury. His gentle hands clenched into fists.

“How can anyone do this to you?” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “You are such a wonderful woman, kind, patient, hardworking. You raised Prakash alone for eight years. You deserve respect, not this violence. That man doesn’t deserve you.”

Without thinking, Ratish stepped forward and pulled her into a warm, protective hug. His arms wrapped around her gently, careful not to hurt her bruises. The new Sangeetha stiffened at first, but then relaxed slightly, burying her face in his shoulder. For the first time in many days, she felt genuinely safe. Ratish smelled of mild soap and fresh clothes a comforting, non-threatening scent.

“I’m here for you,” he whispered. “Whatever you need evidence, support, a safe place l will help. You are not alone anymore.”

They stayed like that for a long moment. When they separated, Ratish looked at her with quiet determination. “We will find a way to stop him. I promise.”

The new Sangeetha felt a small spark of hope. She now had one strong ally outside the house.

Later that afternoon, she called Meera from the shop’s back room.

Meera listened carefully and agreed immediately. “I’m with you. We’ll gather evidence discreetly. The reversal is still delayed, but we can use this time to build a strong case against him. Be careful. Document everything.”

Two allies now stood with them.

Back at home, the new Prakash had spent the entire day carefully searching Selvam’s bags, his old phone (which he had left behind), and hidden pockets in his clothes. He found some suspicious foreign numbers, a few encrypted messages, and a small notebook with coded entries. It wasn’t enough yet, but it was a start.

That night, the tension returned.

Selvam came back drunk again. He entered the bedroom with clear intent, his eyes roaming over the new Sangeetha’s body hungrily as she lay in her nighty.

But before he could climb onto the bed, the new Prakash entered the room.

“Appa… I had another nightmare,” he said, sounding convincingly scared. “Can I sleep between you both tonight? Please…”

Selvam looked annoyed, but once again, he couldn’t refuse. He shifted to one side with a grunt.

The new Prakash lay down in the middle, creating a human shield between Selvam and the new Sangeetha.

In the darkness, the new Sangeetha reached out and held her “son’s” hand tightly under the blanket. For the second night in a row, the real mother protected her child by placing herself as a barrier.

Selvam eventually fell asleep, frustrated but silent.

The new Sangeetha whispered softly in the darkness, “Thank you… Amma.”

The mission had truly begun.

They were no longer just surviving.

They were fighting back.