Chapter 16: Face to Face
The hospital corridor felt endless.
Tanoy stood still.
Between two worlds.
Behind that door—
His daughter.
Fighting for her life.
And ahead—
A path he never wanted to walk.
But had no choice.
Nipa grabbed his hand.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Tanoy looked at her.
For a moment—
Everything inside him broke.
"I'll be back," he said quietly.
"Tanoy…" she held his hand tighter.
"Don't leave now."
He swallowed hard.
"I have to."
"Why?" her voice cracked.
Tanoy hesitated.
Because he couldn't tell her the truth.
Not now.
"Trust me," he said softly.
Nipa stared at him.
Tears filled her eyes.
"I always do," she whispered.
That hurt more than anything.
Tanoy gently let go of her hand.
Then turned—
And walked away.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
Because this time—
He wasn't walking toward hope.
He was walking into darkness.
The address led him to an abandoned building.
Far from the city's noise.
Quiet.
Still.
Too still.
Tanoy stood at the entrance.
"This ends today," he said under his breath.
Then stepped inside.
The air was cold.
Dust filled the space.
Broken windows.
Faint light.
And silence.
"Hello?" Tanoy called out.
No response.
He moved deeper inside.
His footsteps echoed.
Then—
A voice.
"You came."
Tanoy turned sharply.
There he was.
The man.
Standing calmly in the shadows.
As if he had been waiting all along.
Tanoy's fists clenched instantly.
"You did this," he said, his voice filled with anger.
"My daughter—"
"I told you," the man interrupted,
"I did nothing."
"Stop lying!" Tanoy shouted.
The man stepped forward slowly.
For the first time—
Tanoy saw his face clearly.
Tired.
Cold.
But not cruel.
That confused him.
"If I wanted to harm your daughter," the man said calmly,
"I wouldn't need a test."
Tanoy froze.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means," the man replied,
"you're still misunderstanding everything."
Tanoy's anger didn't fade.
"Then explain it!" he demanded.
"Explain what this is!"
The man looked at him quietly.
Then asked—
"Why did you come?"
The question caught Tanoy off guard.
"What?"
"You said you were done," the man continued.
"You blocked my number."
Silence.
"And yet…" the man stepped closer,
"you're here."
Tanoy's jaw tightened.
"My daughter is dying," he said.
"Yes," the man replied.
"And you think I caused it."
Tanoy didn't respond.
Because that's exactly what he believed.
The man sighed.
"Let me ask you something," he said.
Tanoy stayed silent.
"If I told you," the man continued,
"that your daughter's condition is real… and unrelated to me—"
Tanoy's heart stopped.
"Would you still blame me?"
Tanoy's voice came out barely above a whisper—
"No…"
"Then why are you here?" the man asked again.
Tanoy didn't answer.
Because the truth—
Was uncomfortable.
He wasn't just here for answers.
He was here—
Because he still believed this man had control.
Over everything.
"Your daughter's condition," the man said calmly,
"was diagnosed weeks ago."
Tanoy's eyes widened.
"What?"
"You didn't notice," the man continued.
"Because you were too busy trying to hold everything together."
Tanoy felt the ground beneath him shake.
"No… that's not true…"
"Isn't it?" the man asked quietly.
Memories flashed.
Small things.
Her being tired.
Less active.
Quiet.
Things he ignored.
Things he didn't see.
Tanoy stepped back slowly.
"No…" he whispered.
Guilt hit him like a storm.
"I should've—"
"Yes," the man said.
"You should have."
Tanoy looked up sharply.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
The man's expression didn't change.
"Because," he said slowly,
"you need to see clearly."
"See what?"
"Yourself."
Silence.
Heavy.
"This isn't about money," the man continued.
"Not anymore."
Tanoy's breathing slowed.
"Then what is it about?" he asked.
The man stepped closer.
Close enough that Tanoy could feel the weight of his presence.
"It's about choice," he said.
Again.
Always that word.
"You were given opportunities," the man continued.
"To act. To decide. To reveal who you are."
Tanoy clenched his fists.
"I'm not playing your game anymore."
The man smiled faintly.
"You already are."
Tanoy froze.
"Every decision you make," the man said,
"is part of it."
Tanoy's heart pounded.
"Then tell me what you want!" he shouted.
The man's expression finally shifted.
Serious.
Focused.
"This is the final phase," he said.
Tanoy went still.
"Final…?"
"Yes."
The man reached into his coat.
And pulled out something.
A file.
He handed it to Tanoy.
"Open it."
Tanoy hesitated.
Then slowly took it.
His fingers trembled as he opened it.
Inside—
Medical reports.
His eyes scanned the page.
Then froze.
Patient Name:
His daughter.
Tanoy's breath stopped.
Diagnosis:
Severe.
Critical.
His vision blurred.
"This…" he whispered.
"No…"
The man watched him silently.
"There is a treatment," he said.
Tanoy looked up instantly.
"What?"
"A very expensive one."
Hope—
Sharp and sudden—
Cut through his fear.
"How much?" Tanoy asked quickly.
The man didn't answer immediately.
Then—
He said it.
"More than you can afford."
Silence.
Crushing.
"But…" the man added,
"there is a way."
Tanoy's eyes filled with desperation.
"What do I have to do?" he asked.
The man looked straight at him.
And said—
"This time…"
"You won't just choose for yourself."
Tanoy's heart pounded.
"You will choose…"
"For someone else."
Tanoy's breath trembled.
"What does that mean?"
The man's voice dropped.
Cold.
Sharp.
"It means," he said,
"to save your daughter…"
"You must destroy another life."
Everything went silent.
Tanoy stood frozen.
Unable to breathe.
Unable to think.
Because this time—
The test wasn't just moral.
It was cruel.
Unforgiving.
And impossible.