So let's begin,

HOTEL – RECEPTION – NIGHT

The receptionist quietly watches as Bela marches ahead like a general, her three sisters trailing behind like captured prisoners of war, each dragging their suitcases miserably. The bruises of danda distribution still fresh.

Receptionist (whispering to colleague):

“Yeh toh koi family drama se kam nhi lag raha.”

At the counter, Bela briskly signs the checkout papers while the three stand in a perfect line, heads bowed like guilty schoolchildren.

Bela (curt, without looking back):

“Chalo. Bahar.”

They shuffle obediently.

---

PARKING LOT – MOMENTS LATER

The car stands ready. The sisters move like robots:

Khushi awkwardly lifts her suitcase, muttering,

Akshu limping slightly but still trying to look innocent,

Vanshu glaring at both, still holding her sore leg.

All three load their bags in the car trunk with exaggerated sighs.

Khushi (whispering to Akshu & Vanshu):

“Yeh toh bilkul jail transfer jaisa lag raha hai yaar. Abhi tak toh ghar pohoche nhi h toh itna maar diya.. Ghar jaane ke baad kya hoga humara.”

Akshu (muttering back):

“Kaash hum teenon ek hi suitcase mein ghus jaate… kam se kam escape toh try karte.”

Vanshu (snapping):

“Escape? Tum dono hi ho jinse mujhe bachna hai! Aur ab escape ke baare mai socha na toh yeh gaadi seedha shamshaan jayegi ma'am ke ghar ki jagah.”

Before they can bicker more, Bela’s sharp voice cuts through the night—

Bela (commanding):

“Akshu. Aage baith.”

Akshu freezes mid-step, her eyes going round.

Akshu (timidly):

“Ma’am… main? Kyun main?”

Bela (deadpan, glaring):

“Pichhe toh tum dono (pointing to akshu and vanshu) phir ladne lagogi.. . Ab seedha mere nazar ke samne baithogi. Jaldi.”

Khushi and Vanshu bite back their laughter, giving her a mock salute behind Bela’s back. Akshu reluctantly climbs into the passenger seat, looking like she’s about to sit for a viva exam.

Bela gets into the driver’s seat, pulls out her phone, and types a quick message.

On Bela’s phone:

“Mahir ji. Main bachchon ko lekar aa rahi hoon. Be ready.”

Send.

She starts the car with her usual no-nonsense air. The sisters at the back exchange nervous glances. Their eyes say it all: “Ab asli agni pariksha shuru.”

The car pulls out of the hotel gates, heading straight toward Sehgal House.

---

IN THE CAR – NIGHT

The city lights pass in streaks as the car glides through the quiet roads.

Inside, silence dominates.

Vanshu is slumped in the backseat, eyes half-closed, fighting sleep.

Akshu, earbuds in, stares blankly at the dashboard, music a dull hum in her ears.

Khushi sits by the window, her reflection faintly visible in the glass, eyes thoughtful.

For a long while, only the hum of the engine is heard.

Then suddenly—

Khushi (softly, almost hesitant):

“Ma’am…”

Bela’s eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, catching Khushi’s gaze. That single look is enough to make the trio sit a little straighter.

Khushi swallows, gathering her courage, then continues.

Khushi (quiet but firm):

“Hum… bas thank you kehna chahte hain.

I don't know…aap humare liye itna kyun kar rahi hain.

Par… (pauses, eyes moist) seriously, thank you so much.”

Akshu pulls one earbud out, stealing a glance at Khushi. The honesty in her words lingers in the air, surprising her. Vanshu blinks awake, eyes softening. Both slowly nod, murmuring in unison, almost shyly—

Akshu & Vanshu (low, sincere):

“Haan… thank you, Ma’am.”

Akshu leans forward a little, voice hesitant yet genuine.

Akshu (softly, embarrassed but heartfelt):

“Mujhe lagta tha aap sirf strict hain… par aaj samajh aaya, us gusse ke peeche bhi sirf care hai. Shayad humne hi zyada badtameezi kar di thi…”

Vanshu follows, her tone quiet but steady.

Vanshu:

“Subah se humne aapko itna pareshaan kiya… aur phir bhi aap hume ghar le ja rahi h. Yeh chhoti baat nahi hai, Ma’am. We’re sorry… really.”

The atmosphere inside the car shifts. No teasing, no backtalk—just a heavy silence filled with sincerity.

Bela doesn’t reply at once. Her eyes stay fixed on the road ahead, but her grip on the steering eases. For a fleeting moment, her features soften—the steel in her jaw giving way to something gentler.

She clears her throat, her voice quieter than usual but steady.

Bela (quietly):

“Shukriya baad mein kehna. Pehle sambhal jao.”

The three glance at each other—guilt and respect reflected in their eyes. Vanshu exhales, sinking back against the seat. Akshu quietly tucks her earbud away, letting the silence linger. Khushi turns to the window, a small, weary smile tugging at her lips.

---

BELA’S POV – DRIVING THE CAR

Her hands stay firm on the steering wheel, eyes on the road, but inside her head the day replays like a storm refusing to quiet down.

“Subah se drama… ek ke baad ek naatak.

Chot, na khana, na baat sunna, na rehne ka koi dhang fir bhi zid aur harkatein jaari.

Samajhti hoon… bacche hain. Akal thodi der se aati hai.

Par… yeh teeno? Khud ko badi dikhati hain, lekin andar se… bas chhote bacche h.”

Her jaw tightens at the memory of Khushi’s deep cut. The way the girl had flinched but still argued it was “nothing.”

“Nothing? Agar infection ho jata toh? Agar haath kaam karna band kar deta toh? Tab yaad aata na ki doctor dikhana tha.”

She exhales sharply, a mixture of anger and fear.

Then Akshu’s stubborn refusal for the injection flashes in her mind — eyes squeezed shut, body trembling, yet still trying to say no.

Her lips twitch unconsciously at the thought.

“Shaitaan… itni himmat aa kahan se aa jaati hai mana karne ki.

Laga toh sahi. Aur maine uska haath pakad ke rakha.

Rone nahi diya. Himmat dikhayi.

Kaash yeh samajh paati ki meri daant… meri maar… sab isi liye hai.

Inki bhalai hi chhupi hai iske peeche.”

Her eyes soften in the mirror at Vanshu, now dozing off.

“Sabse pyaari… sabse dare hui si.

Injection ke waqt haath pakad ke baithi thi toh dil pighal gaya mera.

Itni masoomiyat hai iske chehre par… par saath hi nakhre bhi kam nahi.”

And then the hotel room—her blood boils instantly at the memory of the mess.

Her knuckles whiten on the wheel.

“Wrapper ke upar wrapper… kapde idhar-udhar… aur upar se inki harkatein. Inka bas chalta toh maar se bachne ke liye apne aap ko bhi bech de. Pagal teeno..

Sharam aati hai mujhe. Agar koi aur dekh leta toh?

Yeh hai inka “independent rehna”?

Maine toh bas wo lakdi utha li thi gusse mein.

Lekin jo darr unki aankhon mein tha… usne mujhe bhi yaad dilaya ki abhi bacche hi toh hain.”

The rearview mirror reflects Khushi now, staring outside, lost in her own thoughts. Bela studies her quietly.

“Khushi…shaant h, samajhti sab h.. lekin.. Nautanki nhi khatam hoti h.. Maths chod ke sab karwa lo madam se.. Pata nhi kaunsa dar h maths se..

Sabke baare mai soch sakti h.. Sabka dhyaan rakh sakti h khud ke liye bas drame karne h..

Isliye sabse zyada zid karti hai.”

Then Khushi’s sudden “thank you” and akshu vanshu's sincere words echoes in her ears. For a second, her throat tightens, but she forces her expression blank.

“Thank you?

Inhe kya pata… main kyun kar rahi hoon yeh sab.

Main bhi toh bas… unka bura bardasht nahi kar sakti.

Unki chot, unki beizzati, unka bigadna… nahi dekh sakti.

Unhone kabhi samjha ya nahi… par yeh ab meri responsibility hai.

Aur responsibility se main kabhi peeche nahi hati.”

Her lips press into a thin line as she straightens her shoulders, her authority returning like armor.

“Kal phir koi nautanki hogi. Kal phir mujhe scale ya danda uthana padega.

Aur kal phir main daantungi, chillaungi…

Par yeh mera farz hai.

Aur main apne farz se kabhi bhaagti nahi.”

***

SEHGAL HOUSE – EVENING

The car rolls into the elegant driveway. The big gates open, the building glowing warm under the lights.

Inside the car, three hearts are racing like drums.

Khushi gulps, fiddling with the strap of her bag. Akshu’s earphones are now wrapped into a knot she doesn’t even realize she’s twisting. Vanshu’s knee bounces uncontrollably.

They step out, dragging their suitcases, trailing after Bela like soldiers being marched into a battlefield.

As they near the main door, Vanshu suddenly blurts out, voice tiny but urgent:

Vanshu (hesitant):

“M-Ma’am… aap sure hain abhi bhi? Aap chahe toh… apna decision badal sakti hain…”

Bela halts mid-step, slowly turning, her saree pleats swishing with authority. Her glare cuts like a blade.

Bela (dangerously calm):

“Thappad khana hai tumhe?”

Vanshu freezes, shakes her head furiously in a quick no-no-no.

Bela narrows her eyes, then smirks coldly.

Bela:

“Good.”

She turns again to walk forward, but tosses over her shoulder, her voice crisp, cutting through the air:

Bela:

“Aur haan… tum dono—” (gesturing at Khushi and Akshu without looking) “—iske saath kam raho. Kuch zyaada hi asar ho raha hai tum dono ka ispe.”

Khushi and Akshu exchange a WHAT THE HELL look.

Akshu (whispering, offended):

“Humne kya kiya?”

Khushi (hissing back, whispering):

“Tu toh khud karti hai nautanki, ab mujhe bhi le doob rahi hai. Mai bata rahi hu wo din dur nhi jab yeh ma'am ki favourite banegi.. Kyuki ma'am ko toh lagta h yeh masoom h.. Par sacchai toh hume pata h na”

Akshu rolls her eyes, Khushi mutters under her breath, Vanshu stares blankly like—main toh phas gayi.

Meanwhile, Bela strides ahead, already ringing the doorbell, her posture all-commanding.

For the trio, though?

It feels like they’re about to walk into Judgement Day.

SEHGAL HOUSE – MAIN DOOR

The door swings open. Mahir stands there — relaxed in his home clothes, warm smile tugging at his lips.

The trio’s jaws practically hit the floor.

Their eyes go saucer-wide.

And in perfect sync, they blurt out—

Trio (Khushi, Akshu, Vanshu – together, stunned):

“Sir?! Aap yaha?”

It’s not just surprise. It’s existential crisis written all over their faces.

Bela slowly turns her head toward them, her glare sharp enough to cut glass.

Bela (dangerously calm):

“Tum teeno… jaante ho inhe?”

The girls freeze, gulping. Their eyes dart from Bela’s glare to Mahir’s amused smile.

Mahir, meanwhile, chuckles openly — hands slipping into his pockets, leaning against the doorframe as if enjoying a private comedy show.

Mahir (grinning):

“Arre wah… second meet itni jaldi hogi socha nhi tha.. No wonder tumhari nautanki meri Bela ne itne detail mein sunayi thi mujhe. Tum teeno ki saari stories lata h mujhe.”

The trio blink at him, still trying to process. "Meri Bela".

Mahir finally gestures warmly, voice teasing yet kind:

Mahir:

“Welcome, girls. Kya hua? Shock laga?

Main hi hoon… aapki Bela Ma’am ka husband — Mahir Sehgal. Jinki gaadi ke saamne aa gaye the aap teeno lift ke liye.. Tum teeno ko pehchaan toh usi din liya tha par socha thoda suspense create kiya jaaye.”

The words land like a bombshell.

The girls exchange horrified, wide-eyed looks — one to another to another — exactly like someone’s just declared they saw a ghost.

Khushi (whispering, stunned):

“Bhooth dekh liya kya…? What a surprise sahi mai.”

Akshu (whispering back, clutching her bag):

“Ab toh pakka humara popat hone wala hain… Matlab yeh kaise ho sakta h.. Is liye us din yeh ma'am ke baare mai itna interest dikha rahe the aur hum "Team Unstoppable" h yeh bhi Jaan gaye.”

Vanshu (muttering, almost fainting):

“Main yaha se bhaag jaaun kya abhi ke abhi?”

Mahir just chuckles louder, clearly entertained by their panic.

Bela, however, clears her throat sharply — the sound enough to shut them up in an instant. "Chalo andar"

LIVING ROOM

The trio step in awkwardly, their sneakers squeaking against the polished marble floor.

The mansion is immaculate — polished wood, framed photographs, perfect symmetry in every corner. The aura screams Bela Ma’am — discipline and order wrapped into one.

Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu exchange tiny glances, clutching their bags nervously.

Suddenly—

“Mummaaa!”

Little feet patter across the hall. Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku come running in, laughter spilling with their steps. But the moment they spot Team Unstoppable standing there, their laughter halts mid-air. The kids freeze, wide-eyed, as if caught in a surprise test.

Aashvi’s gaze drops uncertainly.

Khushi notices immediately. Her heart softens. Without hesitation, she sets her bag down, walks gently towards Aashi, and bends to her level.

Her smile is soft, protective. She lifts her hand and tenderly caresses Aashi’s hair and cheeks.

Khushi (gently, almost motherly):

“Tum theek ho na, Aashvi? Dar toh nahi lag raha ab?”

Aashi blinks up at her — the memory of last night’s terror flashing for a moment in her eyes. Khushi’s touch and voice, however, make her shoulders ease a little.

Behind them, Akshu and Vanshu watch silently, touched. Mahir’s smile deepens. Bela’s eyes soften too — but she quickly folds her arms again, hiding it behind her stern mask.

The air, heavy with awkwardness a moment ago, now melts into something warmer — the first thread of belonging weaving itself quietly.

Khushi’s hand rests gently on Aashvi’s cheek. For a moment, Aashvi just stares — her little lips pressed tight, eyes flickering with hesitation.

Finally, her voice comes out small, almost whispering:

Aashi (softly):

“Pehle mujhe aap bilkul acchi nahi lagti thi… specially jab aapne daanta tha mujhe…”

She glances sideways at Akshu.

Aashi (half-pouting):

“Aur Akshu didi toh meri enemy thi… hamesha mujhe lagta tha aap mujhe pasand hi nahi karte… kyuki mujhe bhi gussa bohot aata h aur aapko bhi.”

Akshu blinks, caught off-guard, almost guilty.

But then Aashvi’s eyes well up slightly. She grips Khushi’s wrist with her tiny hand, voice trembling.

Aashi (earnest, teary):

“Par… kal raat… aapne mujhe bacha liya… aur aap dono ne (pointing at Akshu & Vanshu)… bina soche… meri help ki… jab mai hi aapke saath bura karti thi.”

She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Aashi (barely above a whisper):

“Sorry didi… main gandi thi… par ab aapko dosti wali didi bol sakti hoon?”

The hall falls silent. Khushi’s eyes sting with unshed tears. Akshu’s lips tremble into a small smile. Vanshu clasps her hands to her chest, trying not to squeal.

Mahir, watching from the side, chuckles warmly. Bela’s stern face cracks for a second — her eyes betraying pride and relief — before she clears her throat sharply, masking it again.

Khushi (cupping Aashi’s face, tender):

“Jo chahe wo bol lo... Kyuki ab hum enemy nhi h friends h haina. Aapne hume dosti wali didi bola h toh hum teeno bhi aapko humesha protect karenge. Promise”

Aashi breaks into a sudden smile, hugging Khushi tightly. Vanya and Kiku rush in too, wrapping arms around Akshu and Vanshu in a burst of childlike affection.

For the first time — the distance between the three friends and the Sehgal sisters begins to dissolve.

***

BELA’S POV

Bela stood near the staircase, arms crossed, her usual fortress of discipline still in place. On the outside, she looked the same — sharp eyes, tight posture, unreadable face. But inside, everything was shifting.

She watched as Aashi — her stubborn, fiery daughter who rarely opened up — clung to Khushi as if she had found a lost anchor. She saw Vanshu laughing gently with Vanu and Kiku, her softness drawing them in. She caught the way Akshu bent low to listen to Kiku’s rambling, patient and warm, like an elder sister.

And Bela’s heart clenched.

Her voice in her head screamed — “Don’t let it show, Bela. You are their teacher. Control. Authority. Lines.”

But another voice — softer, stronger — whispered: “How long will you keep denying what you already feel? They aren’t ‘just students.’ Not after what they’ve done. Not after the way your own children look at them now.”

Her gaze fell briefly on Khushi’s injured hand again, still bandaged. The image of Khushi jerking back in pain at the clinic flashed before her, along with the stubborn bravery in those tear-bright eyes. And then Akshu’s whimper when the injection pierced. Vanshu trying to smile through her fear.

Her throat tightened.

Bela (thoughts, quietly to herself):

“Yeh bacche… mere apne bacchon se alag nahi hai. Par… agar maine Yeh maan liya toh… kya main ab bhi wohi strict teacher rahungi? Ya phir sirf… "(the thought remained still unspoken as she couldn't name it)

Mahir’s chuckle from the corner broke her trance. His knowing glance told her he’d read her like an open book. Bela instantly straightened, masking every emotion with steel once again.

But as she turned away, a small, almost invisible smile ghosted her lips — the first crack in her wall.

***

Bela clears her throat loudly. Instantly, the trio straighten like school kids caught red-handed. Even the kids (Aashi, Vanu, Kiku) freeze mid-giggle. Bela’s gaze sweeps across the room, sharp as ever.

Bela (firm, no-nonsense tone):

“Sun lo sab… yeh ghar hai, hotel nahi. Toh kuch rules honge. Subah jaldi uthna hoga. Raat ko time se sona hoga. After 11 pm… no mobile, no screen time. Jaha bhi jaana ho, pehle bolke jaana hoga. Khana-peena sab time se hoga. Aur ek bhi rule todne ka matlab hai…”

She pauses, raising one eyebrow, stick tapping against her palm. The trio already gulp.

Trio (in unison, almost whispering):

“Punishment in study…”

Bela (narrowing her eyes, satisfied):

“Good. Tumhe khud hi samajh aa gaya.”

The trio lower their heads, defeated.

But on the sofa, Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku are wide-eyed, whispering to each other in shock.

Aashi (whisper, stunned):

“Mumma itni strict toh school mein bhi nahi hoti!”

Vanu (murmurs back):

“Mujhe toh laga yeh log bachi gayi… par yeh toh hamare saath bhi phas gaye.”

Kiku (giggling, whispering):

“Hum sab ko ek hi punishment wali factory mein daal diya hai!”

The trio hear this and throw the kids a betrayed glare — but the kids only stifle their laughter more.

Meanwhile, Mahir, leaning casually by the pillar, hides his smile behind his hand, enjoying the drama like it’s a daily soap unfolding in his own house.

Sehgal House – Guest Room

Bela stands at the door, arms folded, voice sharp.

Bela:

“Room mein jao. Fresh ho jao. Aur apna saara samaan neatly cupboard mein lagao. Room agar ganda dikha toh… tum teeno ki khair nahi.”

Her eyes narrow as she turns to Khushi.

Bela (pointed glare):

“Room ki safai tumhari zimmedaari hogi. Kyunki in dono ke bharose… shayad ek din mein kachra-ghar ban jaaye.”

Khushi (muttering under her breath, nervous smile):

“Great… ab yahi bacha tha.”

Akshu and Vanshu snicker quietly behind her, only to jump when Bela’s eyes flick toward them.

Bela: “Kya hua? Tum dono ko bhi kaam de doon?”

Akshu and Vanshu(in unison, straight face):

“Nahi ma’am.”

Bela gives one last “I’m watching you” look and walks away.

The trio drag their suitcases inside… and the moment the door shuts behind them, their eyes widen.

Khushi (jaw dropping):

“Yeh… yeh toh…”

Vanshu (spinning around):

“Swarg h yeh swarg!”

Akshu (running to the bed, flopping on it dramatically):

“Arey waah! Ek bada sa bed… jisme hum teen aaram se so sakte hain. Uff, finally no cramped hotel rooms!”

Khushi opens the sliding cupboard — spacious, shining, smelling of fresh polish.

Khushi (awed):

“Three separate cupboards… sliding doors… study tables… attached washroom…”

Vanshu (hands in the air):

“Bachpan ka sapna poora ho gaya! Luxury life, baby!”

Akshu pulls a pillow, hugging it like a teddy bear.

Akshu (teasing whisper):

“Lagta hai hum hotel se upgrade ho gaye… military camp ke andar ek five-star jail!”

The trio burst out laughing, rolling on the bed, already forgetting the stick-strikes from earlier — until Bela’s voice echoes from the corridor:

Bela (loud, strict):

“Teeno ki awaaz bahar tak aa rahi hai… saaman rakhna shuru karo warna…”

Instant silence. The trio sit upright like guilty kids.

Vanshu (whispering, horrified):

“Ma’am ke paas CCTV eyes hain kya?!”

Khushi (sighing, resigned):

“Bas… ab se swarg nahi… ma’am ki akhri warning wali duniya hai Yeh. 24/7 unke radar mai. Kaam shuru karo warna abhi wapas maar padegi.”

They all groan, dragging themselves up to start unpacking.

The three sisters drag their suitcases in the middle of the room.

Akshu (hands on hips, scanning cupboards):

“Thik hai, sabse pehle decide karo kaunsa cupboard kiska hoga.”

Khushi (quickly pointing at the one near the window):

“Woh mera. Natural light ke paas hone se kapde fresh lagte hain.”

Vanshu (sarcastic):

“Haan haan, kapde fresh lagenge… par tum toh roz wahi 3 t-shirts ghumati ho.”

Khushi (glaring):

“Chup! Mere fashion sense pe comment mat kar.”

Akshu (rolling eyes, already opening the middle cupboard):

“Main yeh le rahi hoon. Safe option. Na left wali ki jhanjhat, na right wali ki.”

Vanshu walks dramatically to the last cupboard, presses her hand on it like she’s making a pledge.

Vanshu:

“Mujhe yeh right wala bhi chalega. Lekin warning de rahi hoon—mere chuchur muchur aur chocolates kisi ne touch kiye toh murder kar dungi.”

Khushi (mock gasp):

“Madam doctor sahiba, murder ke liye toh pehle Bela ma’am se permission leni padegi.”

They all burst out laughing—then quickly cover their mouths remembering Bela’s “CCTV ears.”

Akshu (whispering, serious tone):

“Okay listen… agar yeh room saaf rakhna hai toh ek rule banate hain. Har week ek safai duty.”

Khushi (raising eyebrow):

“Matlab? Tum Monday ko karogi, mai Tuesday ko, Vanshu Wednesday ko?”

Akshu:

“Haan.”

Vanshu (horror):

“Arey pagal ho kya? Saafai toh bas kabhi-kabhi karni hoti hai. Roz toh ma’am bhi nahi aayengi check karne.”

Khushi (pointing toward door nervously):

“Shhh! Tumne suna nahi tha? Room ganda dikha toh khair nahi… mujhe lagta hai ma’am raat ko bhi surprise checking karengi.”

Akshu (mock horror, whispering):

“Matlab army drill jaisi life! Ab room ki bhi checking hogi bas yahi dekhna baaki reh gaya tha. Padhai aur khud ke kaam se fursat mile toh room pe dhyaan de na.. ”

Vanshu (dropping on bed dramatically):

“Kya socha tha humne aur kya ho raha h.. Flat mai rahenge aaram se bina kisi rok tok ke.. Apne conditions pe.. ab yaha toh conditions, rules infact saans lena tak ma'am ki permission se padega...”

All three groan, flopping on the bed together.

Khushi (sighing):

“Bas ek kaam karna hoga. Ma’am ko gussa aane se bachana hoga.”

Akshu (smirking):

“Matlab unhe butter karna hoga. Roz subah compliment… ‘Ma’am aap bohot smart lag rahi ho’ type.”

Vanshu (giggling):

“Haan, ya phir unki favourite ban jao… taki stick wali maar sirf tum dono pe pade, mujhpe nahi.”

The three dissolve into giggles again, muffling it with pillows this time.

Khushi (muttering into pillow):

“Mission survive under Ma’am… Day 1, room settle down. Uff army training wali life ho gayi h... Chalo chalo kaam pe lago nhi toh abhi phir ghurte hue aa jayengi.. ”

FEW MOMENTS LATER -

The trio finally arrange everything — cupboards neatly shut, bed made, bags tucked away. Thoda relax karte hi hain ki—

Door creaks open.

Bela strides in, saree pleats sharp as ever… and in her hand— THE SAME STICK.

The sisters freeze. Akshu ki half-smile jam jaati h, Vanshu ka perfume bottle haath se girte girte bach jaata h, and Khushi literally clutches her tshirt like she’s about to faint.

Khushi (whispering, horrified):

“Woh… woh… stick… abhi bhi zinda hai.”

Vanshu (gulping):

“Main toh soch rahi thi usse hotel mein chhod aayi hongi… par nahi, ma'am toh apna weapon carry karti hain.”

Akshu (muttering under breath):

“Yeh toh Army drill se bhi zyada dangerous hai… saath mein astra-shastra bhi leke chalte hain.”

Bela’s sharp gaze sweeps across the room.

Bela (curt, voice steady but with edge):

“Sab arrange kar liya?”

Teeno ek saath jhatke se nod karte hain, jaise exam ke answer same ho.

Bela steps further in. Her stick lightly taps the cupboard handle— tak… tak…

The sound alone makes the trio jump.

Khushi (murmuring to Akshu and Vanshu):

“Mujhe lag raha hai abhi agar ma'am ne cupboard khola aur galti se bhi koi wrapper mil gaya… toh hum Phir pitenge.”

Akshu (hissing):

“Shhh chup! Bas smile karo… smile!”

Teeno ekdam forced smile karte hain, looking like horror-movie clowns.

Bela moves toward the bed, runs the stick lightly over the bedsheet line. Sheet ekdum crisp hai. She hums lowly, still checking.

Vanshu (whispering fast):

“Khushi tune double check kiya tha na bedsheet? Abhi crease dikhi na toh hum chalne layak nhi bachenge kal tak.”

Khushi (panicking):

“Arey maine kiya tha! Agar stick lagi na toh tum dono ko bhi kheechungi saath mai bata rahi! Akele mai mar jaungi.. Aise dar dar ke jeena padega yeh pehle pata hota toh aadhe raaste mai hi Bhaag lete.. ”

Suddenly Bela stops. Turns to face them.

Her glare—deadly. Her stick—resting against her palm.

Bela (measured, dangerous calm):

“Room thik hai… Lekin yaad rakhna… agar yeh ganda dikha, toh yeh stick sirf yaad dilaane ke liye nahi hogi.”

Teeno ek saath:

“Ji ma’am!!”

Akshu (weak laugh):

“Room toh ab NASA ki lab se bhi zyada saaf hai…”

Bela raises one eyebrow at that. Akshu instantly zips her mouth shut.

Bela gives one last glance, taps the stick on the floor once—THUD—and walks out with her signature authority.

The door closes. Silence.

Next second—

Khushi collapses on bed clutching her chest.

“Main toh sach mein heart attack se mar jaaungi ek din.”

Vanshu (dramatic):

“Mujhe laga abhi bola jaayega cupboard kholo checking ke liye… aur phir mera chuchur muchur kachre ke dabbe mai hoga.”

Akshu (glaring at both):

“Bas ab… tum dono daro mat. Kuch bhi gadbad hogi toh.. I’ll take the maar like a soldier. Uske baad bas treatment karwa dena.”

Khushi & Vanshu (together, teasing):

“Shukriya, fauji Akshu!”

They laugh nervously, but deep down, all three know—stick ki shadow unpe ab hamesha rahegi.

DINING ROOM – NIGHT

The long dining table glows under the chandelier. Plates neatly laid, bowls of steaming dal, sabzi, chapatis, rice, salad, papad, pickle— the works.

Aashi, Kiku, Vanu are already seated, chattering softly. Mahir sits at the head of the table, calm and observant.

The trio — Khushi, Akshu, Vanshu — walk in slowly behind Bela. Nervous. Awkward. But the moment their eyes fall on the spread of home-cooked food… they freeze.

Their throats tighten. Khushi bites her lip, Akshu’s eyes sting, Vanshu literally clasps her tshirt.

They take their seats quietly. But their gaze is locked on the food — as if it’s not food but nectar straight from heaven.

Vanu (childlike curiosity, tilting her head):

“Didi… kya hua? Aap log kha kyu nahi rahe? Bhookh nahi lagi kya?”

The trio blink rapidly, trying to cover their tears. Khushi forces a smile, Akshu looks down at her plate, Vanshu rubs her eyes pretending dust went in.

Bela, watching them closely, instantly understands. She knows why they look emotional. But her face stays composed, voice firm.

Bela (stern, commanding):

“Khana thanda ho raha hai. Baitho aur khana shuru karo.”

The trio jump a little at her tone.

“N-ji ma’am…” they mutter and pick up their plates.

Still, they hesitate — overwhelmed.

Mahir, quietly observing all of this, leans back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips. He speaks in his warm, teasing way:

Mahir (gentle, with a knowing look):

“Khana dekh ke itne emotional ho gaye…. Roz roz noodles bhi boring lagte h na.”

The trio flush red instantly, caught.

Khushi (stammering):

“N-nahi sir… bas… wo…”

Akshu (muttering under breath):

“Ab ispe bhi lecture aayega…”

Vanshu (hissing softly to them):

“Chup raho dono… warna khana toh milega hi nahi.”

Mahir chuckles softly at their panic, shaking his head. He deliberately serves dal into their bowls himself.

Mahir (warmly):

“Khaao, aaram se.. Apna hi ghar samajh ke sharmaane ki bilkul zaroorat nhi.”

The trio glance at each other — embarrassed, moved. Finally, they begin eating.

And the first bite? Their eyes close automatically. Relief. Warmth. Comfort. Like their empty, tired souls are finally being filled.

Aashi, whispering to Kiku and Vanu:

“Mumma ke rules strict hote hain… par khaana toh best hota hai na?”

The kids giggle. Bela shoots them a sharp look, making them instantly straighten up.

Meanwhile, the trio quietly eat — hungrily, gratefully — every bite a mix of shame, joy, and disbelief that after days of surviving on noodles and chips, this is real food.

And Bela? She keeps eating in silence, her face strict… but under the table, her fingers relax around her spoon, hiding the soft smile tugging at her lips.

The trio slowly settle into eating. The clink of spoons, the aroma of dal and parathas filling the air. Their empty stomachs roar quietly, but they eat carefully — not too fast, because Bela’s eyes are on them.

AFTER DINNER – SEHGAL HOUSE, KITCHEN

The plates are cleared, but the kitchen looks like a war zone — sink overflowing with dishes, counters smeared, and the smell of masala still hanging heavy.

Bela turns sharply, her gaze slicing through the trio like a knife.

Bela (stern):

“Ab bolo… yeh sab kaun saaf karega? Aur yaad rahe — bina tod-phod, bina nautanki. Samjhe?”

Silence. The trio freeze, exchanging guilty glances. At the table, Mahir leans back, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. Meanwhile, Aashi, Kiku, and Vanu bounce on their heels, giggling behind their hands.

Khushi (weak smile):

“Uh Ma’am… hum—”

Before she can finish, Akshu slyly nudges Vanshu. Vanshu takes a step back. Akshu follows. Khushi is suddenly one step ahead, exposed.

Khushi (hissing):

“Arrey tum dono piche kyu gaye?!”

Akshu (smirking):

“Rule no.1 — jo aage hoga, wahi bakra banega.”

Vanshu (snickering):

“Exactly.”

Khushi glares, about to retort — but Bela claps her hands once, loud and sharp.

Bela (firm):

“Enough! Teeno kaam karenge. Aur main decide karti hoon.”

The trio snap to attention.

Bela (authoritative):

“Vanshu — bartan dhogi. Akshu — tum pochogi. Khushi — slab saaf karogi.”

Vanshu (grumbling, under breath):

“Bartan? Mujhe hi boring kaam kyun…”

Akshu (teasing):

“Better than germs ke saath wrestling.”

Khushi (groaning):

“Great. Mujhe hi safai ka shauk samajh liya sabko.”

The juniors burst out laughing until Bela’s glare silences them instantly. Mahir clears his throat, shooting his daughters a pointed look.

Mahir (calm, instructive):

“Table tum teenon saaf karogi.”

The kids groan but obey, still giggling as they grab cloths. Mahir himself heads into the kitchen, casually packing leftovers into containers and sliding them into the fridge.

The trio exchange a quick, relieved smile — they aren’t alone in this punishment. Even Bela, still watchful, begins straightening masala boxes and giving clipped instructions.

The soldiers take their positions: Vanshu at the sink, Akshu with a towel, Khushi armed with surface cleaner.

Vanshu (grumbling as tap runs):

“Paani kitna thanda hai! Ma’am, gloves toh—”

Bela (deadpan):

“Nautanki band karo. Kaam karo.”

Akshu leans toward Khushi, whispering.

Akshu (mock whisper):

“Lagta hai training academy join kar li hai.”

Khushi (snapping, spraying cleaner furiously):

“Bas chup raho. Extra duty mat bulwao.”

SQUEAK! Her cloth slips from her hand, slapping the floor.

Khushi (groaning):

“Uff, ab yeh bhi dhona padega.”

Bela (sharp):

“Slab saaf kar rahi ho ya floor polish?”

The juniors choke back laughter. Mahir chuckles openly, stepping in.

Mahir (lightly):

“Aram se Khushi. Panic mat karo.”

Khushi forces a nervous smile and bends down.

At the sink, Vanshu scrubs too hard — water splashes everywhere.

Akshu (jumping back, shrieking):

“Arrey careful! Meri T-shirt bheeg gayi!”

Vanshu (innocent face):

“Sorry… plate heavy tha.”

Akshu (snatching the plate):

“Haan haan… plate heavy tha ya tumhari nautanki?”

To annoy Vanshu, she dries the plate painfully slow. Vanshu wiggles her dripping hands, shivering.

Vanshu (snapping):

“Jaldi karo! Haath freeze ho rahe hain!”

Akshu (smirking):

“Abhi mazaa aa raha na?”

CLANG! A spoon slips from Vanshu’s hand, echoing like an alarm. Bela’s head snaps toward her.

Bela (low, dangerous):

“Vanshu. Agar ek bhi plate tooti… toh kal subah double training.”

Vanshu gulps.

Vanshu (whispering to Akshu):

“Bas… ab toh sapne mein bhi bartan hi dikhne lagenge.”

Meanwhile, Khushi’s slab-cleaning turns into chaos — foam spreading, cloth slipping again.

Khushi (frustrated):

“Yeh kapda mujhse personal dushmani kar raha hai!”

The juniors finally lose it, laughing so hard they can’t breathe.

Kiku (clapping):

“Wah! Free comedy show!”

Bela (snapping):

“Zyada hasso mat… warna tumse bhi bartan dhulwaya jaayega.”

The kids freeze on the spot.

Finally — after spilled water, foamy counters, sulking faces, and plenty of muttering — the kitchen sparkles.

Bela steps forward like a commander inspecting her troops. She wipes the slab — spotless. Taps a plate — squeaky clean. Checks the sink — shining.

Bela (with the faintest nod):

“Hmm. Kam se kam kaam karna aata hai tum logon ko.”

The trio sag in relief, whispering together—

Trio (in unison):

“Bach gaye.”

Mahir, quietly watching them, smiles with pride, his eyes soft.

---

HALLWAY, NEAR STAIRS

The trio drag their feet toward their room, sulking like prisoners just released on parole.

Khushi (grumbling under her breath):

“Saare kapde gande ho gaye h change karna padega.”

Akshu (rolling her eyes, drying her damp sleeves):

“Upar se yeh bartan ki training… full on army camp.”

Vanshu (pouting, still shaking her hands dry):

“Mere bhi kapde bheeg gaye h. Aisa lag raha direct shower leke aa rahi hu.”

They keep muttering until suddenly their steps slow near the staircase landing. The three exchange a silent look — their eyes softening at the same sight.

At the corner, glowing softly, stands the grand mandir. A beautifully decorated space — marbled platform, delicate bells hanging, diyas flickering in golden warmth. Every deity placed with devotion, but their eyes instantly rest on one corner… Krishna ji’s idol, smiling serenely with the flute.

Without a word, all three drift toward it, their sulking replaced with awe. The air feels calmer here, the chaos of the day slipping off their shoulders.

Khushi folds her hands instinctively, her face gentling. Vanshu lets out a small sigh, whispering,

Vanshu (softly):

“Kitna sukoon hai yaha…”

Akshu’s lips curve into a faint smile, her eyes glued to Krishna ji.

Akshu (hushed, almost in wonder):

“Yeh sahi mein swarg hai…”

Then she chuckles under her breath, shaking her head.

Akshu (adding quickly):

“Bas ek jail ke andar wala swarg.”

The three giggle softly together, their laughter this time light — not mocking, not sulking, but a quiet, shared relief. For the first time since entering this house, they feel something they didn’t expect… a strange sense of belonging.

They stay there a moment longer, admiring the glow.

***

BELA’S POV

The golden glow of the mandir spills into the hallway, drawing my eyes before I even realize my feet have stopped moving. There they are — Khushi, Akshu, Vanshu. For once, no chatter, no excuses, no drama. Just three girls standing silently with folded hands, their faces softened as if the world’s weight doesn’t exist.

I freeze. My heart gives a strange pull. Since morning, all I have done is scold them, drag them, force them to do the right thing. Yet here they are, bowing their heads with such innocence that it knocks the breath out of me.

“Shayad… inke andar abhi bhi woh bachpana zinda hai jo duniya ke saare dukh dhak ke rakhta hai,” I think, my eyes softening despite myself. “Aur yahi inki taakat bhi hai. Aaj yeh dekh ke mujhe aur vishwas ho gaya ki maine jo faisla liya tha inhe ghar laane ka… wo galat nahi hai.”

I fold my hands silently, my gaze shifting to Krishna’s idol in the corner. “Shayad aap bhi yahi chahte the, Bhagwan. Isiliye aapne mujhe in baccho se milwaya. Warna jo Bela Sehgal, jo dil ki jagah dimaag se faisla leti hai… aaj dusri baar dil se haar gayi. Pehli baar Mahir ke saamne hui thi… aur ab, in baccho ke saamne.”

A small, involuntary smile touches my lips as I make a silent prayer. “Agar aapne mujhe chuna hai inke liye, Bhagwan… toh bas itni shakti dena ki main apna farz aur mamta dono nibha paun. Kyuki mujhe khud nhi pata Yeh aapki kaisi leela h jisne mujhe in baccho se kuch hi dino mai itna jod diya h. Mujhe himmat dena ki mai apne baccho mai aur inme kabhi koi fark na kar baithun...”

My chest feels lighter. Softer. And before I can dwell on it longer, I sense someone beside me. Mahir.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just follows my gaze. His chuckle is soft, teasing, but warm.

“Dekha? Tumhari ‘headache team’ bhi kabhi-kabhi dil ko choo sakti hai. Jaise aaj meri Bela ka dil choo gayi.”

I let out a quiet breath, not looking at him, not even denying it. Because it’s true.

“Naadaan hain…” my voice is lower, almost to myself. “Aur dil usse zyada saaf hai.”

Mahir’s hand brushes against mine for a fleeting second, grounding me. I don’t move it away. For a moment, we both just stand there, watching silently as those three girls continue their little prayer, untouched by the world.

And for the first time today, I feel something rare — pride, tenderness… and hope.

***

Akshu’s POV

The mandir’s golden light feels like a blanket over me. For the first time today, my mind isn’t racing about how to explain myself, or how to fix things. I just… breathe. I fold my hands tighter.

“Kanha… bas ek chhoti si help chahiye. Mujhe himmat dena ki main apni galtiyaan sudhaar paun. Vanshu aur Khushi hamesha mere saath khade rahein, aur ma’am… unki aankhon mein ek din apne liye garv dekh pau, kyuki unhone aaj jo bhi kiya h na humare liya wo koi normal insaan nhi kar sakta.. Isme zaroor aapki bhi iccha hogi.. Aur aapki iccha sar aankhon par.. bas itna hi.”

My eyes sting faintly, but I don’t let the tears fall. Peace hums quietly in my chest.

---

Vanshu’s POV

I keep staring at the flicker of the diya, like it’s answering me. My heart is still thumping from the scoldings, the fear of Bela ma’am’s stick, but right now, it feels distant.

“Kanha… sabko lagta h mai bohot acche se padh leti hu.. Par yeh sab kabhi kabhi kitna mushkil ho jaata h yeh aap jaante h na.. Har roz khud se ladke, khud ko push karna padta h.. Par ab aur zyada mehnat karni hogi.. Kyuki ab sirf khud ke liye ya apne sapno ke liye nhi padhna h... Ma'am ke liye bhi karna h.. Unhone jo kiya h wo shayad hi koi par pata.. Kyuki kya fark padta h kisi ko haina? Par unhone socha.. Aur sirf socha nhi.. Wo sab kiya jo shayad hum imagine bhi nhi kar sakte the.. Aapko bohot bohot thank you.. Iske liye.. Mujhe himmat dena ki mai unhe proud feel kara saku aur unhe kabhi yeh mehsoos na ho ki unka liya hua faisla galat h.. Aur hum teeno ko humesha saath rakhna.. "

I close my eyes tighter, clutching my folded hands. For once, silence doesn’t scare me — it feels safe.

---

Khushi’s POV

The mandir’s light dances on the idols, and I feel small, but not weak. My lips don’t move, but my heart whispers loud.

“Kanha kya kahu aapse.. Aap toh bina maange hi sab de dete h.. Aur sab samajh jaate h, aapki marzi ke bina ek patta nhi hilta h.. Jaise humara yaha aana, hum teeno ka saath rehna apne sapno ke liye saath aage badhna aapki marzi thi.. Usi tarah ma'am se hume milwana bhi sab aapki planning thi.. Ab aur kuch nhi chahiye meri behno ki raksha karna. Jo bhi mushkilen aaye, humein ek dusre ke saath rakhna. Hum ladte hain, nautanki karte hain… par dil se hum ek hain. Aur… ma’am. Jo humpe gussa karti hain… unki aankhon mein bhi sirf fikar hai humare liye maine mehsoos kiya h.. Aap unko hamesha himmat dete rehna. Baaki mujhe sambhalne ke liye aap h hi.. ”

I smile faintly, bowing lower. For once, I don’t feel like proving anything. Just being here, like this, feels enough.

---

The three girls stay silent, each lost in her own small prayer, but unknowingly bound together in the same plea — for strength, for belonging, and for each other.

--

GUEST ROOM -

The room is quiet, the day’s weight finally catching up with them. The three sisters sink into the soft bed, sighs of relief escaping together as if they’d been holding their breath since morning. For a few moments, silence — blessed silence.

Just then, Vanshu breaks it.

Vanshu (perking up suddenly, guilty smile):

“Arre… Maths homework incomplete h!”

The words drop like a bomb. Khushi groans instantly, throwing her head back.

Khushi (grumbling):

“Bas… abhi toh sukoon mila tha yaar! Maths ka naam leke phir se migraine de diya tumne.”

Akshu shoots Vanshu a look, half-annoyed, half-resigned.

Akshu (dryly):

“Par agar kiya nahi toh… yaad hai na ma’am ka stick?”

The three freeze for a second. That memory alone is enough. Without another protest, they reluctantly get up.

Khushi drags herself to her study table, dropping her books with a loud thud. Akshu sets hers neatly, already flipping pages. Vanshu climbs onto the bed, pulling her little folding table in front of her, books spreading like chaos all over.

Soon, the room fills with scratching pens, turned pages, and occasional sighs. Their faces serious, brows furrowed — as if they were solving world problems instead of sums. The concentration is real, but every now and then, Khushi mutters under her breath, glaring at the numbers as though they personally offended her.

For the first time all day, though, there’s no sulking or complaint loud enough to break them apart. Just three girls, exhausted yet determined, bent over their notebooks — the unspoken fear of Bela’s stick keeping them surprisingly disciplined.

The study lamps glowed dimly in the otherwise quiet room.

Akshu’s pen moved swiftly across the page, her neat handwriting filling lines on Exercise 3.4. On the bed, Vanshu hunched over her little study table, her focus unshakeable as she scribbled through Exercise 3.5, almost at the finish line.

But at the other end, Khushi sat with her head buried in her palms, glaring at her notebook like it was her enemy. She was still stuck on Exercise 3.3, the same sum crossed out thrice.

Khushi (groaning):

“Yeh x aur y ke kis janam mai mere dimaag mai ghusega… factorisation ya mental torture? Yahi haal raha tha toh first term hi fail karungi.”

Akshu didn’t even look up.

Akshu (dryly):

“Bas drama band karo, aur step follow karo. Itna tough nahi hai.”

Vanshu, still writing, chuckled.

Vanshu (teasing):

“Drama band kare toh Khushi rahegi kaise?”

---

OUTSIDE THE ROOM -

The house was finally quiet. Bela walked through the living room, her sharp eyes scanning every corner. She checked the locks on the main door, tested the latch twice, then moved toward the kitchen. Everything in place.

Her steps echoed softly against the marble floor as she moved down the corridor, making sure every room was shut, every switch turned off. It was her habit—discipline and order, no compromise.

And then… she stopped.

A faint sliver of light spilled into the dark corridor from under one door. Their room.

Her brows furrowed instantly, irritation rising like a spark. Inhone abhi tak lights off nahi kiya? She had given clear instructions — after 11 pm, no mobiles, no screens, no late-night nautanki. Yet here they were, disobeying her first rule on the very first night.

Her grip on the stick tightened.

Bela (thinking, anger simmering):

“Lagta hai inko abhi tak samajh nahi aaya ki main mazaak nahi karti. Time pass kar rahi hongi… ya phone chhupa ke baithi hongi.”

Her jaw set, she strode down the hallway, the click of her heels sharp against the silence. With every step closer, her annoyance grew heavier. She could already picture the three of them giggling, whispering, wasting time.

Her knuckles rapped hard on the wood, the sound echoing through the corridor. She didn’t wait for an answer. With one firm push, the door creaked open—

---

INT. THE ROOM -

Khushi glared at them both, ready to snap back, when—

KNOCK! KNOCK!

The sharp sound on the door made all three of them jump in unison. Their pens froze mid-air, hearts racing. For a second, none of them dared breathe.

The door creaked open.

And there she was. Bela.

Standing in the doorway, arms folded, eyes narrowed. The faint light from the corridor outlined her figure — and the familiar, dreaded stick still in her hand.

Her gaze swept the room. She had expected giggles, whispers, maybe a hidden phone glowing under the covers. Instead… she found three girls hunched over notebooks, sums sprawled across the pages, faces pale as if caught committing a crime.

The silence was thick. Even the clock seemed to stop ticking.

Bela (cold, measured tone):

“Abhi tak jaag rahi ho? Maine kaha tha na lights off ho jaana chahiye 11 baje tak.”

The trio exchanged terrified glances. Khushi gulped, whispering almost inaudibly:

Khushi (muttering to herself):

“Bas ab toh… band bajega.”

Before she could even open her mouth, Akshu blurted out, her voice a little too quick, a little too nervous:

Akshu (rushing words): “Ma’am… woh… maths ka homework incomplete tha. Wahi kar rahe the.”

Vanshu and Khushi immediately bobbed their heads like guilty accomplices trying to confirm the alibi.

Bela’s eyes narrowed further. She took a step inside, stick still in hand, her presence swallowing the room. For a long second she only looked at them, expression unreadable.

Then, with a sigh that was more of a controlled release than softness, she moved toward Vanshu first.

She pulled Vanshu’s notebook from the bed table, flipping through the neat rows of factorisation sums. Clean handwriting. Correct answers. Every step shown properly.

Bela gave no praise. That wasn’t her style. She merely closed the notebook and gave a curt nod.

Vanshu exhaled in relief, shoulders dropping.

Next, Bela walked to Akshu’s desk. She took the notebook from under Akshu’s hesitant hand. A few sums, a few cross-outs, little corrections here and there. Her eyes shot up, pinning Akshu with a glare sharp enough to make her gulp.

Akshu offered a sheepish smile, as if that could erase the mistakes. Bela didn’t say a word—she simply placed the notebook down with deliberate calm.

Finally, her gaze slid toward Khushi.

Khushi’s heart hammered. Her hands had already started sweating, and she clutched her pen tighter, staring at her half-done work on exercise 3.3. Agar ma’am ne abhi check kiya na… toh daant toh pakki hai.

Her mind screamed: Kya musibat hai yeh! Abhi aana tha kya unhe? Ek din toh shanti se nikal jaata.

As Bela’s shadow fell over her table, Khushi’s throat went dry, her pulse loud in her ears.

Bela bent slightly, lifting Khushi’s notebook. Her eyes scanned the page — sums half-done, a few scribbles, and more crossed out marks than actual answers. Slowly, she raised her head, pinning Khushi with that razor-sharp glare.

Khushi froze. Her throat went dry, palms sweaty. Bela didn’t need to say a word — her eyes alone were enough to squeeze the breath out of her.

Akshu and Vanshu immediately pressed their lips together, exchanging a look. They knew this drill well. Their ma’am wasn’t just checking notebooks — she was savoring the fear. And Khushi, right now, was trapped in it.

Khushi (stammering, words tumbling out nonsense):

“Woh… ma’am actually main kar rahi thi… par pencil… mera matlab penc thoda… umm… steps toh aapko pata hi hai kitne confusing hote hain… main bas double-check kar rahi thi… isliye thoda time zyada lag gaya…”

She gave a weak smile, trying to mask her trembling voice.

Bela didn’t blink. She simply tilted her head, as if silently saying, aur bol?

Akshu had to bite her knuckles to stop from laughing. Vanshu ducked her head, pretending to look at her own book, her shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles.

Khushi’s babbling grew faster the longer Bela’s silence stretched:

Khushi (blurting nonsense):

“Waise bhi ma’am, mujhe lagta hai ki algebra ek tarah se… matlab… jaise… umm… it's all about letters and numbers ki jodi… kabhi abc toh xyz... Sab aapas mai mil ke confuse kar rahe!”

At that, Vanshu actually snorted. Akshu quickly nudged her under the table, both of them now clearly enjoying the show.

Bela finally arched one brow, closing the notebook with a snap. Her glare lingered another second — long enough to make Khushi want to sink into the floor.

Bela shut Khushi’s notebook with a firm thap! and fixed her with that unblinking stare.

Bela (stern, voice low but cutting):

“Khushi. Tumhe samajh bhi hai tum kya kar rahi ho? Yeh koi drawing book nahi hai jisme bas likha-mita diya. Homework matlab practice… aur practice ke bina tumhe maths kabhi samajh nahi aayega. Doubts h clear karo.. Par agar tumhe lagta h aise bhaag ke.. excuses deke bach jaogi, toh yaad rakhna — maths excuses nahi, practice maangta hai. Aur maine jo rule banaya h, usse koi bacha nahi.”

Khushi’s face burned. She lowered her head instantly, nodding quickly like a scolded child. Akshu and Vanshu, though secretly thrilled to see Khushi caught, softened a little as they saw her fidgeting nervously.

But then, something shifted in Bela. She inhaled deeply, her tone softening just slightly. She reopened the notebook, pulled the chair closer, and with calm clarity began explaining the sums.

Bela (measured, teacher-like):

“Dekho… yeh step galat tha isliye answer atak gaya. Factorisation ka base hamesha pehle terms ko group karna hota hai. Simple hai… bas dhyaan lagao. Ab try karo, main dekh rahi hoon.”

Khushi, though still nervous, scribbled carefully, this time following Bela’s instructions. The sum clicked. Relief flashed on her face.

Khushi (whispering, almost smiling):

“Samajh aa gaya… thank you, ma’am.”

Bela gave only a curt nod, hiding the faintest flicker of satisfaction, then looked at all three.

Bela (firm again):

“Baaki subjects ka homework complete hai?”

The trio exchanged glances. Vanshu, being the most confident, quickly spoke up.

Vanshu (shaking head):

"Haan ma’am, baaki sab complete hai. Bas maths hi tha.”

Bela checked the clock on the wall, her sharp eyes narrowing before she sighed.

Bela (curt but considerate):

“Hmm. Subah se tum teenon ko waqt nahi mila, isliye aaj maths aaj ke liye chod do. Lekin yaad rakhna… next time koi excuse nahi chalega. Samjhi tum log?”

All three nodded furiously in unison.

Bela (clipped):

“Good. Ab lights off. So jao.”

She gave one last warning glare — long enough to make sure the message was hammered in — before stepping out of the room.

The moment the door closed, the trio slumped back in their chairs, exhaling in relief like prisoners given a last-minute pardon.

---

Bela finally pushed open the door to her room, shoulders heavy, her stick still in hand. Mahir looked up from the phone he was pretending to scroll, his eyes immediately catching the exhaustion written across her face.

Mahir (smiling knowingly):

“Kya hua, Major Madam? Aaj poore ghar ka inspection karne mai itna time lag gaya.”

Bela sighed, placing the stick by the wall and sitting at the edge of the bed.

Bela (rubbing her forehead):

“Teeno ke room se aa rahi thi… homework kar rahe the. Maths ke sums. Socha check kar loon… aur wahi fas gayi.”

Mahir raised an eyebrow, hiding his grin.

Mahir (teasing):

“Arrey… jab maths teacher khud itni bhayanak hogi toh bacche bechare kya karenge? Algebra se zyada toh tumhari aankhon ka darr factorise kar deta hoga unko.”

Bela shot him a glare, but it cracked almost instantly. A laugh escaped her lips, tired but genuine.

Bela (shaking her head):

“Aap bhi na…”

She leaned back slightly, her body finally giving in. Mahir put his book aside and gently pulled her into his arms.

For a moment, Bela didn’t resist — she simply melted against his chest, closing her eyes. The rigid lines of stress across her forehead eased as she exhaled deeply, her entire day’s weight pouring out silently.

Mahir (softly, stroking her hair):

“Bas… chhod do ab. Aaj bohot sambhal liya tumne. Thoda khud ko bhi sambhalne do.”

Bela clutched his shirt lightly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bela:

“Hmm... Thak gayi ab bas mai..”

Mahir tightened his hold, kissing her hair gently.

Mahir:

“Pata hai. Lekin tumse behtar koi nahi jo in sab ko handle kar sake. Tum meri Bela ho… aur meri Bela haar nahi maanti.”

That drew another faint smile out of her, this time steadier. She buried her face in his shoulder, letting herself finally breathe freely in the one place she felt safe — his arms.

Bela sat quietly against the headboard now, exhaustion pulling at her shoulders. Mahir slid closer, his hand resting warmly over hers. She let out a long sigh, staring at the floor for a beat before speaking.

Bela (low, almost to herself):

“Kabhi kabhi lagta hai… mai kuch zyada hi strict ho jaati hu. Choti-choti baaton pe daant dena, rules impose karna… pata nahi galat toh nahi kar rahi na?”

Her voice cracked slightly at the end. It wasn’t often Bela Sehgal admitted doubt, but tonight, it slipped through.

Mahir tilted his head, studying her face — the same face that terrified half the world, now softened with guilt. He reached up, brushing his thumb gently across her temple.

Mahir (calm, reassuring):

“Strict ho… lekin galat nahi. Jo tum kar rahi ho na, woh discipline nahi hota toh inke liye suraksha bhi nahi hoti. Tum unke liye jo kar rahi ho, usse behtar aur koi nahi kar sakta.”

Bela closed her eyes, leaning slightly into his touch.

Bela (softly):

“Par kabhi lagta hai… unki masoomiyat main hi chhin leti hu. Itna rule, itna control… kya pata andar hi andar toot rahe ho.”

Mahir slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her against his chest, speaking with quiet conviction.

Mahir:

“Masoomiyat chhin rahi hoti toh aaj mandir mein woh teeno tumhe sukoon dete hi nahi. Bela, tumne jo dekha tha na — unke chehron pe shanti… woh tumhari wajah se thi. Tumne unke liye ek safe jagah banayi hai. Strictness dikh rahi hai… lekin pyaar toh hai, aur woh sabse zyada mehsoos karte hain.”

For a moment, Bela stayed silent, her hand clutching lightly at his shirt. Then, slowly, her lips curved into the faintest smile.

Bela (whispering):

"Aapko hamesha mere doubts door karne aate hai, hai na?”

Mahir (smirking softly):

“Arrey, meri job hi yahi hai. Tum duniya ko sambhalo… aur main tumhe.”

Bela chuckled lightly, finally allowing her head to rest fully on his chest, eyes drifting shut, her heart lighter than it had been all day.

To be continued...