Atharva refrained from taking this as a lost cause yet.
“Where is Qureshi?”
“I don’t know.”
Atharva stared at Samar. He had tried to pull something similar years ago. Had failed. He stared harder, trying to read if this time too he was in on this. At this moment, he didn’t trust anybody.
“You knew about this, Adil?” He asked, not taking his eyes off Samar’s.
“No.”
That tone, Atharva believed. That man, Atharva believed.
“And you?” He pushed Samar. “When did you know?”
“I got this letter an hour ago.”
“And you handed it to me now?”
“One of the MLAs passed it on to me. I had to check its authenticity first. ”
“You are the party president. How was this happening under your nose?”
Samar had no answer.
“Zorji?” Atharva reached the last man in the room.
“How many dissenting?” Zorji asked the question that mattered. Atharva glanced at Samar, brows up.
“At this moment, 27 from KDP. That’s more than half. Awaami will obviously support because this means their Vote of No Confidence against Atharva passes. I also have news that Janta Party might support the dissent.”
“In its entirety?” Atharva questioned.
“That’s the news I got.”
Atharva reached for his phone and pulled up Ali’s number. His thumb was about to press down when he realised that Ali might have been his deputy CM but a man sitting in Delhi was calling the shots. He scrolled down his contact list and stopped at Yogesh Patel.
“We knew it might come to this, Atharva,” Zorji’s quiet, heavy words landed with a finality he had avoided accepting. Atharva tore his gaze from Yogesh Patel’s number and gaped at Zorji.
“When we sat for that hearing, with the answers you chose to give, we knew you might have to vacate this position.”
“But that was if the SIT ruled against me. This is…” he was at a loss for the word. How could he use the word treason for his own party’s people? For his own friend?
“Qureshi hasn’t gotten signatures yet. But he has planted this letter and gotten unofficial nods. That means if you resign, this letter will never see the light of day,” Zorji explained to him quietly like he were a child and did not understand this coup.
“What do you think I should do?”
“Do you have the power to bring your MLAs back, Atharva?”
He began to open his mouth. Then snapped it shut.
“We can try,” Adil asserted. “If Azad is not taking your call, let me try.” He grabbed his mobile and dialled on speaker. Azad picked up on the second ring. Adil began to push the phone to him but Atharva held his hand up. He gestured for Adil to speak.
“Adil bhaijaan, hello?”
“Azad. Where are you?”
“At home. What happened?”
