So let's begin,

OUTSIDE SCHOOL -

Bela’s sharp eyes swept over the three girls — her death stare enough to make their guts churn. Khushi and Akshu instantly looked down, lips pressed tight, Vanshu shifted uncomfortably, clutching her bag.

Bela (cold, clipped tone):

“Constable… is ladke ko jeep mein daalo.”

The constable moved swiftly, helping the groaning boy — Rohit — into the jeep. Bela didn’t break her gaze from the trio for even a second.

Bela (firmly, voice like steel):

“Tum teeno… peeche baitho. Aur ek shabd nahi. Chalo.”

The girls exchanged nervous glances but didn’t dare argue. Quietly, they followed her orders, climbing into the jeep. The earlier rage that had burned in Khushi and Akshu seemed to shrink under Bela’s aura. Vanshu sat wedged between them, heart pounding, trying to hold back her own nervousness.

The jeep roared to life, the siren now silenced, only the weight of silence hanging inside. Bela, seated in the front, picked up her phone with her usual calm but commanding efficiency.

Bela (on phone, professional tone):

“Hello… Rohit ke parents bol rahe h aap? SHO Bela speaking from Mahila Police Thana. Aapka beta ek ladki ko chedhne ke case mai involve hua hai… minor hai, isliye aapko turant thana aana hoga. Yes. Abhi.”

Cutting the call, she dialed another number — her expression not changing one bit.

Bela (on phone again):

“Mahir ji… thana aa sakte h please(she glares the trio from rear view)urgent h thoda. Guardian ki zarurat hai situation handle karne ke liye.”

She ended the call and placed the phone back, her jaw tight, eyes fixed straight ahead.

At the back, the trio sat frozen. Khushi’s fists clenched in her lap, Akshu’s knuckles were still raw and stinging, Vanshu’s eyes darted nervously between her sisters and Bela’s stiff back. None of them dared utter a word.

The jeep sped through the streets, every turn making the trio’s hearts sink deeper. For the first time in days, their anger was replaced with something heavier — the fear of Bela’s judgment.

---

[Sehgal & Co. – Mahir’s Cabin | Late Afternoon]

Mahir was buried in files, spectacles perched on his nose, brows furrowed in concentration. He was mid-discussion with his assistant when his phone buzzed. Seeing Bela’s name flashing, he answered immediately — but the edge in her tone jolted him upright.

Bela (on phone, clipped yet urgent):

“Mahir ji… thana aa jaiye. Abhi. Teenon ladkiyan involve hain case mein. Guardian ki zarurat hai.”

The short, sharp words were enough to send a chill down his spine. Mahir’s pen slipped from his fingers, clattering on the desk. His assistant blinked at the sudden change in his expression.

Mahir (tense, panicked tone):

“Bela… case? Matlab… kya hua unhe? Sab theek toh hai?!”

But the line had already gone dead. Bela had cut the call.

Mahir shot up from his chair, heart pounding. His calm, composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

Mahir (snapping at his assistant while grabbing his coat):

“Meeting cancel karo. Abhi. Gaadi nikalo!”

Without another thought, he rushed out of his cabin, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. The girls… “Unstoppable” as they called themselves… were his responsibility just as much as Bela’s. Panic gripped him — if Bela had sounded that stern, then things must have spiraled really bad.

Sliding into his car, he muttered under his breath, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as the driver sped towards the thana:

Mahir (to himself, voice heavy with worry):

“Bas… Bhagwan kare teeno safe ho. Bela ka gussa aur police station… pata nahi ab kya hoga.”

---

THANA – LATE AFTERNOON

The station smelled of dust and official paper. Bela walked in like a storm — posture straight, jaw set, every step authoritative. Rohit sat across from her on a plastic chair, still rubbing at his side, but the smirk on his face had not faded. Behind Bela, Khushi, Akshu and Vanshu stood stiffly, hands clasped, eyes down — the three girls small and silent in the austere room.

Bela’s voice cut the quiet like a blade.

Bela (cold): “Rohit, batao—kya hua tha? Kyu tum vanshika ko pareshaan kar rahe the.”

Rohit lifted his chin, grin widening. He answered with the insolence of a boy who’d been spoilt for too long.

Rohit (smug): “Mera mann.. Mere papa yaha ke minister hain ma'am.. Aap mere saath kuch nahi kar sakti. Aur waise bhi — Vanshika itni sundar hai, koi bhi ladka deewana ho jaaega uske peeche.”

Those words landed like petrol on embers. Akshu’s hands curled into fists. Khushi’s face snapped up, fury flaring. For days they had swallowed insults and pushed through humiliation — and now this.

Akshu stepped forward before she even realized it, voice raw with rage.

Akshu (shouting): “Abey chutiya… Tere saath kya kar sakte hain aur kya nahi, iska trailer na abhi tujhe school ke bahar de diya hai. Zyada bola na, yahi ek murder ho jayega mere haathon… phir chahe zindagi bhar ke liye jail hi kyu na jaana pade!”

Khushi followed, breath hot, words tripping over each other:

Khushi (fierce): “Aur kya… kutta kahi ka... Zyada akad dikhayi na apni — yahi khol ke rakh denge tujhe. Phir tu minister ka beta ho ya kisi ka bhi. Shakal pe mat jaana, samjha kya? Dimaag ghoom gaya na toh yahi tera antim sanskaar kar denge. Ma’am ne bacha liya aaj tujhe, warna pair tod ke tere haath mein de deti!”

For a heartbeat, the room held its breath. Khushi and Akshu’s words were volcanic — all the bottled-up anger pouring out, rough and raw.

Bela cleared her throat once, a quiet sound that felt like thunder. Her glare snapped to the two of them — hard, immediate, uncompromising as if saying “Tum dono, ghar chalo bas....”

That single look — brittle, lethal — made Akshu and Khushi recoil like winded fighters. Their chests heaved, cheeks flushed with adrenaline and shame, and they stepped back without another word.

At that moment the station doors opened and Rohit’s father hurried in, panic and fury written across their faces. He slams his hand on the desk, his voice booming through the thana.

Minister (angrily):

"Mere bete ne koi galti nahi ki hai! Aap samajhti kya hain khud ko, Inspector? Main aapki kursi pal bhar mein cheen sakta hoon. Abhi ke abhi usey chhodiye!"

Bela stands tall, her jaw tight but her eyes calm, refusing to bow under pressure. At that very moment, Mahir rushes inside, breathless. His eyes immediately scan the room, landing on Bela and then the three girls. Just one look is enough — he knows the situation is grave.

The trio — Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu — lower their heads in shame, unable to meet his eyes.

Vanshu (snapping, frustrated):

"Tum dono ki wajah se humein yeh sab dekhna pad raha hai! Kya zaroorat thi itni maar peet karne ki."

Khushi immediately lifts her head, glaring at her.

Khushi (coldly):

"Humari wajah se? Apni khud ki galti mat bhool Vanshu… pehle bata nahi sakti thi tu? Itna kuch chal raha tha aur tu chup rahi?"

Vanshu freezes, guilt flickering across her face. Before she can respond, Akshu’s suppressed anger bursts out.

Akshu (furious):

"Exactly! Agar humein pehle pata hota toh wahi pe matter sort out ho jaata. Ab sabko problem face karni pad rahi hai, because you decided to hide it!"

The silence that follows is heavy. Mahir’s eyes shift between the three, his expression unreadable, while Bela stands unmoved, her authority like a shield against the Minister’s threats.

The Minister is still fuming, trying to throw his weight around. Bela finally steps forward, her voice low but commanding enough to slice through the chaos.

Bela (firm, controlled authority):

"Aapke bete ne Vanshika ko chedhne ki… uske saath badtameezi karne ki koshish ki hai, Mantri ji. Ye ek serious offense hai. Is baar sirf uske minor hone ke wajah se warning deke chhoda ja raha hai. Lekin agli baar… agli baar sidha complaint hogi. Tab na aapki kursi kaam aayegi aur na aapka padh."

The Minister’s face turns red with anger, but he’s forced into silence for a moment under her piercing glare. Mahir immediately steps in, his tone steady, trying to prevent the matter from spiraling further out of control.

Mahir (calm but firm, supporting Bela):

"Sir, please samajhiye… Madam sirf apni duty kar rahi hain. Aapka beta galat tha, aur hum sabko accept karna chahiye. Agar aap usse samjhayein, toh aage jaake aisi galtiyaan repeat nahi hogi. Aur yeh teenon ladkiyan bhi… unhone jo react kiya, wo sirf self-defense mein tha."

He glances at the trio — Khushi, Akshu, Vanshu — his eyes silently telling them he’s on their side. The girls still look down, but there’s a flicker of relief on their faces.

But the Minister, unwilling to give up, leans forward with venom.

Minister (taunting):

"Accha… toh mere bete ne jo kiya uske liye aap sab itna hungama kar rahe ho… lekin in dono ladkiyon ne mere bete ko itni buri tarah maara, uska kya? Uska hisaab kaun dega? Aur aap Mr. Sehgal usey self - defense ka naam de rahe h.. Maar Maar ke admara kar diya h mere bete ko.. Ab kya kehna chahenge aap."

The question hangs heavy in the room. Mahir stays composed, ready to counter, but Bela’s eyes darken. She turns her glare directly at the Minister — the kind of glare that makes even powerful men shift uncomfortably in their place.

Bela (icily):

"Uska kya? Uska jawab bhi main hi dungi, Mantri ji… lekin usse pehle aap apne bete se puchhiye — usne jo kiya, uska kya?"

The Minister falters under her unflinching gaze. The entire thana goes silent, all eyes fixed on the standoff — authority versus arrogance, truth versus power.

Mahir takes the charge, sensing Bela’s coiled anger. He breathes in, keeps his voice soft but deliberate — the exact calm the moment needs.

Mahir (calmly, to the Minister):

"Mantri ji, mai maafi maangta hoon dono baccho ki taraf se. Khushi aur Akshika ne jo kiya, wo galat tha. Hum unse baat karenge, samjhayenge. Lekin ummeed karte hain aap bhi apne bete ko samjhayenge aur batayenge usne jo bhi kiya wo galat tha.. Yaha baccho ki bhalai ki baat h... Politics aur power ko beech mai laana sahi nhi rahega."

The words — an apology on behalf of Khushi and Akshu — land like a blow. The three girls look up; guilt rushes over their faces. Khushi’s jaw tightens. Akshu’s eyes sting. Vanshu looks betrayed and angry all at once.

Bela feels the urge like wildfire — she wants to grab Khushi and Akshu and thrash them until everything inside them is gone. Her hands curl into fists. For a breathless second she almost loses it.

Then she breathes out. She thinks of procedure, of what will help the girls in the long run. She clamps down on her anger and chooses control.

Bela (quiet, but with steel):

"Ji..Bilkul... Is waqt baccho ko apni galti ka ehsaas h ya nhi wo maayne rakhta h.. Galti dono ki h.. Lekin Rohit ko yahi vanshika se maafi maangni hogi usey harass karne ke liye.. Aur aaj ke baad wo koi aisi harkat nhi karega yeh dilasa bhi dena hoga tabhi hum is case ko close kar sakte h."

Bela nods at the constable. The constable brings Rohit out from the lock up. The Minister watches, eyebrows knitted — his bravado flickers now that the focus has turned to his own son.

Rohit arrives, face flushed with entitlement and confusion. Bela doesn’t give him time. She points toward Vanshu.

Bela (fast, controlled):

"Rohit, maafi maango vanshika se... Seedhe lafzon mein."

Rohit hesitates, looks at his father. The Minister’s face is tight. Under the weight of the standoff and Mahir’s composed apology, Rohit’s shoulders slump. He shuffles forward.

Rohit (muttering, half-hearted):

"Sorry, Vanshu."

Akshu (glaring at him):

"Vanshika bol samjha na."

Rohit:

"S - sorry Vanshika."

Vanshu stares at him — betrayed, furious. Tears of anger and humiliation shine in her eyes. She barely nods. Khushi and Akshu flinch, shame washing over them; Mahir’s apology hangs heavy between them like a mirror.

Bela watches them all — the Minister, Rohit, the trio — and finally lets out a single measured breath.

Bela (to Mahir, quietly):

"Ab ghar pe—baat karenge. Aur aaj mai in teeno ko nhi chodungi. Hadd paar kar di h inhone."

Mahir (softly):

"Shaant Bela.. Ghar pe baith ke baat karte hain. Galti ki hai toh sudharna bhi padega."

The trio now guilty about their actions. Khushi’s face is pale; Akshu looks close to crying. Vanshu, though still burning, walks out with a rigid back — Mahir’s support and Bela’s restraint have shifted something inside them all.

The Minister, humiliated but outwardly composed, mutters something about positions and leaves with his son. The thana returns to its mundane rhythm, but the air has changed.

THANA – MOMENTS LATER

The door clicked shut behind the Minister and his son, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. The thana was empty for now expect them. But the tension in the room was immediate, palpable — Bela’s storm had only been held back by protocol and Mahir’s calm presence. Now, with no one between her and the trio, her wrath simmered dangerously.

She turned slowly toward Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned each of them like a predator assessing its prey. The girls stiffened instantly; guilt and fear collided in their stomachs. Khushi’s lips parted slightly to speak, but a single glance from Bela froze her words — the kind of glare that could make grown men tremble.

Without a word, Bela strode to the table, every step measured, deliberate. Her hand wrapped around the police stick lying there. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of her authority and tightly coiled fury.

Bela (low, dangerous):

“Tum log samajhti ho… yeh sab chhupana, curse words bolna, aur kisi ko maarke… bohot accha kaam kar liya hai tum teeno ne. Sharam aati h? Agar aaj mai time pe nahi aati, toh tum dono toh sahi mein saari limits cross kar deti.”

Akshu (pleading):

“Ma’am, please… humne bas wahi kiya jo us time…”

Bela (cutting her off, stern):

“Not a word, Akshika. Tumhara gussa mai jaanti hoon, par iska matlab yeh nahi ki tum sab bhool jao. Agar us ladke ko kuch hi jaata toh kya karti phir? Aur Khushi,” she says, eyes landing on her, “tumse maine yeh expect nahi kiya tha… curse words? Seriously? Ladai… maar-peet? Iss hadd tak aa gayi ho ab tum?”

Khushi (hesitant, voice small):

“Ma’am, mai…”

Before they could even finish, the first sharp crack of the stick landed across Akshu’s back. She yelped, clutching herself, while Bela’s precision ensured each strike was corrective, not malicious — yet every blow carried the full weight of her anger. Khushi flinched next as the stick tapped her shoulder.

Bela (scolding, voice sharp):

“Khushi! Tumhare shabd, tumhari harkatein… yeh Rohit ka kya haal kiya tum dono ne? Is tarike se rokne wale the tum dono Rohit ko.. Complaint kar sakte the na phir yeh tamasha karne ki kya zarurat thi.. ”

The strikes continued rhythmically, each matched with verbal reprimands. Akshu and Khushi tried to flinch away, but Bela’s hand was swift and merciless, reminding them of the boundaries they had crossed — physical, verbal, and moral.

Vanshu, standing stiffly, felt the stick tap lightly on her arm — a warning, precise and unmistakable.

Bela (turning sharply, icy):

“Vanshu! Aur tum? Tumne poore case ko chhupaya? Tumhari zimmedari thi… tumhe pata tha aur tum chup rahi. Pehle kyun nahi bataya yeh sab? Ya wait kar rahi thi aur kuch galat ho phir jaake bataungi ma'am ko Haa?”

Vanshu winced, body stiffening further, but Bela didn’t pause. Every lash of the stick was paired with words of reprimand, hammering in lessons of honesty, restraint, and respect — for the law, for others, and for themselves.

The girls’ soft cries echoed through the otherwise hushed thana. By the time Bela finally lowered the stick, her chest rose and fell with measured control. Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu trembled, hearts hammering, a mix of fear, shame, and adrenaline.

Mahir (internal, tense):

“Bela bohot gusse mein hai… aur ho bhi kyun na, in baccho ne kaam hi aisa kiya hai. Aur mai rok bhi nahi sakta… Bela, please shaant ho jao…”

Before Bela could strike again, her phone rang sharply. It was from school. She answered it, the momentary distraction bringing a flicker of tension and hope to the trio.

Akshu (whispering, worried):

“School se phone… kahi un ladko ne complaint toh nahi kar di? Shit… agar ma’am ko pata chala, toh chodegi nahi abhi… abhi hi itna maar diya hai. Ouch… dard ho raha abhi se… kya musibat aa gayi hai…”

Khushi (panicking internally):

“Oh no… school se phone… kahi Radhika ma’am ne sab kuch bata toh nahi diya… Maine shayad thodi zyada hi badtameezi kar di thi… Agar ma’am ko pata chala na… Om swaha kar degi ma'am mujhe…”

The trio exchanged panicked glances, hearts racing, their thoughts tumbling over each other as Bela spoke calmly into the phone, but her tone still carrying the unmistakable edge of authority.

Bela’s gaze swept over the trio like a storm, sharp and unrelenting.

Bela (sternly):

“School mein kuch kiya tum logon ne? Kuch hua h kya? Principal sir ne itna urgently bulaya h mujhe school mai.. Dekho agar koi baat h toh abhi baat do warna.. Accha nhi hoga tum teeno le liye.”

The girls stiffened. Not a single word escaped their lips. Their silence was deafening. Khushi’s throat tightened; Akshu’s hands fidgeted nervously. Vanshu’s eyes flicked between them, sensing the tension but staying quiet herself.

Mahir stepped forward, raising a calming hand toward Bela.

Mahir (softly, but firmly):

“Bela, shaant ho jao. Chalo, school chalte hain. Wahan sab kuch pata chal jayega...”

Bela’s eyes lingered on them for a long moment, piercing and unreadable, before she finally nodded. The trio exhaled softly, following Mahir out of the thana.

As they walked toward the car, Vanshu’s curiosity got the better of her. She glanced at Khushi and Akshu, biting her lip.

Vanshu (hesitant):

“Kya kiya tum dono ne? Jo school se phone aaya tha…”

Khushi and Akshu exchanged a glance. Akshu looked at Khushi first, her eyes silently asking: “Kya kaand kiya tumne?”

Khushi’s gaze flicked back to Akshu, equally questioning: “Tumne kya kiya?”

Vanshu watched their unspoken conversation, a flicker of worry passing through her eyes. Neither of them said a word, but the tension between them spoke louder than any explanation could. The car ride ahead was thick with unspoken words and guilty hearts, the echoes of their mischief from school still looming over them.

PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE – AFTERNOON

The heavy wooden door creaked open as Bela stepped in first, her uniform adding weight to her presence. Mahir followed, calm yet alert, and the trio trailed behind — heads bowed, steps hesitant.

Principal Sir looked up from the files on his desk. His sharp gaze first landed on Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu standing stiffly, then moved toward Bela. He adjusted his glasses and leaned forward.

Principal Sir (formally):

“Bela ma'am, thank you for coming. There are… some concerns about these children that needed to be discussed urgently. That's why I had to call you..”

Bela gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable but her aura tense. Mahir quietly took a seat opposite the principal, folding his hands neatly on the table. The trio instinctively closed ranks, huddling closer to Bela as if her presence, no matter how terrifying, was also their shield.

Khushi stood pressed to Bela’s side, biting her lower lip. Akshu stood next to her, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Vanshu hovered at the edge, her eyes darting between the principal and Bela, her heart thudding at the unknown.

The air in the office was thick — the weight of secrets, the fear of exposure, and the inevitability of punishment all hanging over their small cluster.

Bela’s eyes didn’t leave the principal, but her tone was clipped, carrying a warning edge.

Bela (calm but firm):

“Concerns kaunse, Principal sir?”

The trio stiffened even more. Khushi’s toes curled inside her shoes, Akshu swallowed hard, and Vanshu’s hand gripped her skirt tightly. None dared to move, standing silently at Bela’s side, waiting for the storm to break.

The room was already suffocating, but the presence of Ms. Radhika and Coach Sir turned it into a furnace. Both stood near the principal’s desk — Radhika with her arms folded smugly, Coach Sir with his usual calm, analytical stance.

The trio instantly reacted.

Khushi’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening as her glare locked onto Radhika. Fury burned in her chest, but she quickly masked it — though not fast enough. Sitting across, Mahir caught that flicker of fire in her gaze.

Mahir (inner thoughts, surprised):

Khushi aur yeh gussa? Maine isko kabhi aise dekha hi nahi. Kuch toh hua hai… aur yeh chhupa rahi hai.

Meanwhile, Akshu’s eyes shifted to Coach Sir. The moment she saw him, her stomach dropped. Her palms went clammy, breath hitching. She swallowed hard, her nerves betraying her.

Then the principal broke the silence.

Principal Sir (serious tone):

“Bela ma'am, Mr. Sehgal… as their teacher and guardian hume lagta hai aapko situation clearly samajhni chahiye. Kuch CCTV footages hain jo main aapko dikhana chahta hoon.”

The words crashed over the trio like a bucket of ice water.

All three froze, blood draining from their faces.

Khushi (inner thoughts, panicking):

Bas… ab toh gaye. Yeh wahi footage hoga… staff room ka… Bhagwan ji, bacha lena please.

Akshu’s throat went dry, Vanshu’s fists clenched tightly by her side. They exchanged fleeting glances — a silent, shared terror.

Khushi instinctively shuffled sideways, slipping closer to Vanshu, almost half-hiding behind her as if Vanshu’s presence could shield her from Bela’s inevitable wrath.

The staff wheeled in the monitor, and with a click, the first clip began to play.

ON SCREEN: The staff room footage.

Khushi’s face, contorted with rage, her voice raised as she stood up to Radhika — every word of her furious outburst crystal clear.

In real time, Khushi squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her lips trembling.

Khushi (whispering, under breath, almost a prayer):

“Bhagwan… bacha lijiye…”

Bela’s head tilted slightly toward her, sharp eyes narrowing. Mahir leaned forward in his chair, his expression unreadable, but his mind was racing.

The office turned heavy with silence as the clip rolled. Every word Khushi had thrown at Radhika echoed louder inside the four walls.

Bela’s breath hitched, her jaw clenching tight. Did this girl just— in front of a teacher? Her fingers curled against the armrest, the urge to storm across and slap sense into Khushi boiling inside her veins.

Mahir froze, disbelief flashing across his usually calm face. He had never imagined Khushi, the one who always carried herself with dignity, speaking like that to a teacher. His eyes darted to her — but Khushi stood there with her eyes tightly shut, as if the darkness behind her lids could shield her from the storm about to break.

Akshu’s chest swelled with a strange mix — anger at Radhika for pushing Khushi that far, and pride that her sister had spoken up so fiercely. Still, she could feel her throat dry. Abhi Ma'am ka gussa phatega…

Vanshu shifted uncomfortably, her own heart thudding. She wasn’t sure if she should admire Khushi’s courage or fear the punishment that was surely coming.

Bela’s voice cut through the suffocating silence like a whip.

Bela (glowering, teeth gritted): “Khushi… yeh sab kya tha? You misbehaved and back answered your teacher?”

Khushi’s lips trembled. She didn’t dare open her eyes. Her hands tightened behind her back.

Her silence hung in the room, thick and suffocating. Every second stretched longer, her shoulders trembling, but no words left her lips.

Bela’s eyes narrowed, her fury coiling tighter, ready to lash out — when Mahir’s calm, deliberate voice broke through.

Mahir (firm, measured): “Bela ma’am, ek minute please. (Turning to the Principal) Sir, I feel Khushi ko apna side rakhne ka mauka milna chahiye. Tabhi hum samajh paayenge ki asal baat kya hai.”

Bela shot him a glare, her anger sharp, but Mahir didn’t flinch. He turned back to Khushi, his tone softening, steady and protective.

Mahir: “Khushi… tumhe main jaanta hoon. Tum aise kabhi nahi bol sakti teacher se bina wajah. Tumhari baaton ke peeche zaroor ek wajah hai. Ab sach bolo. Daro mat — main yahin hoon. Jo bhi hua, bina kisi dar ke batao.”

Khushi’s throat tightened; her fists curled behind her back. Her lashes pressed together, holding back tears.

Khushi (whispering, broken yet steady): “Mujhse… aur bardasht nahi hua, sir. Bas isiliye…”

Mahir’s brows furrowed, a flicker of concern breaking through his composure. He could feel her pain thrumming in the silence — frustration, helplessness, something deeper.

Akshu’s heart panged as she watched, pride and fear warring inside her. Vanshu edged closer, instinctively wanting to shield Khushi from Bela’s blazing eyes.

But Bela wasn’t ready to soften. Her voice cut like a whip, sharp and unrelenting.

Bela: “Then say it clearly, Khushi! Aakhir wajah kya thi? Kis baat ne tumhe majboor kiya Ms. Radhika ke saath aise baat karne pe?”

The room stilled, every gaze fixed on Khushi — waiting for her to finally tear open the truth she was clutching so tightly. But the silence snapped. Khushi’s eyes flew open, glistening with unshed tears — but blazing with rage. Her jaw tightened as she lifted her chin, no longer trembling, no longer hiding.

Her glare cut across the room, landing squarely on Radhika.

Khushi (voice shaking at first, then growing fierce):

“Wajah? Aap sunna chahti h na, ma’am? Yeh Radhika ma’am hi wajah hai! Roz-roz ke taano se, humiliations se… unke favoritism se! Din raat target karti rahi mujhe… aur mujhe chup rehna chahiye tha? Kab tak bardasht karti main? Bohot request kiya maine inse ki mujhe debate practice ke liye jaane de.. Yes ma'am maine debate mai part liya tha.. Akshu ne badminton mai and vanshu ne art competition ke liye.. Humne baat chaupayi thi because we warned to surprise you.. Par inki wajah se mera naam cancel ho gaya.. Aur at last jab kuch nhi bacha toh inhone aapke baare mai ulta seedha kaha.. Mere parents ke baare kaha.. Mai kaise aur kyu bardasht karti ma'am? ”

Her voice cracked, then steadied with fire.

Khushi (glaring at Radhika, spitting the words):

“Aapko laga mai chup ho jaungi? Nahi. Aapne limit cross ki thi ma’am… aur main bhi insaan hoon, statue nahi. Mujhse bardasht nahi hua. Isi liye jawab diya. Aur abhi bhi dungi..”

The room went still. Akshu’s heart thudded with both pride and fear — her sister, standing tall, daring to say what none of them had ever said aloud. Vanshu’s breath caught, eyes flickering between Bela and Radhika, knowing the storm was only beginning.

Mahir leaned back slightly, his gaze softening with a strange mix of shock and quiet understanding. Yes, this was Khushi — fiery, honest, unafraid when pushed to her breaking point.

Bela’s fists clenched at her sides, her fury warring with a grudging flicker of comprehension. She had wanted the truth — and Khushi had just thrown it, raw and unfiltered, in the middle of the room.

Radhika’s face, however, paled, her lips pressing thin. Khushi’s eyes never left hers, sharp, accusing, unblinking.

Khushi (cutting in before anyone else could speak):

“Jo bhi punishment dena hai de dijiye, ma’am. But at least ab aapko sach toh pata chal gaya. Mujhe ab dar nhi.. Lekin agar koi aapke baare mai ya parents ko leke bakwaas karega toh mai chup nhi rahungi.. ”

***

Bela’s inner thoughts, her eyes fixed on Khushi:

"Yeh ladki.. Mann toh kar raha abhi yahi ek jhaapad lagau zor ka.. itni himmat? Ek teacher ke saamne aise bol diya…? Kaise himmat hui iski…? Apni baat rakhne ka ek tarika hota h..Protocol aur warning se kaam ho jaata par nhi.. Maine socha bhi nhi tha ki yeh aisa kuch karegi.. "

Her chest tightens for a moment, pride flickering in the middle of her fury.

“Dantungi… sazaa bhi dungi. Rules ke against gayi hai… iska consequence toh hoga hi. Pehle discipline… phir samajh. Aaj yeh samjhegi ki line cross karne ki kya keemat hoti hai."

***

The air was already suffocating after Khushi’s clip, but now the words “next footage” fell like a thunderclap in the room.

Akshu’s heart stopped. Her skin turned pale, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She knew exactly which footage was about to play.

Her eyes flicked toward Bela — who still looked like a storm barely contained — and a knot twisted in her stomach. “Bas ab toh khatra h…”

Almost instinctively, Akshu edged away from Bela’s side, slipping behind Khushi like a guilty child trying to hide from her mother’s sight. The chain shifted — Vanshu now closest to Bela, Khushi in the middle, and Akshu at the farthest end.

Bela’s sharp eyes caught the movement instantly. Her brows arched, her glare slicing through the silence like a blade.

Bela (in her head, teeth grinding): “Shift ho kar kya bach jaayegi? Mujhe sab pata chalne wala hai, Akshika…”

But Akshu kept her face down, avoiding that deadly stare. Her nails dug into her palms, her breaths uneven.

Principal Sir cleared his throat, his voice firm.

Principal Sir: “Now, let’s take a look at the ground incident. Ye footage khud sab kuch bata dega.”

A click, a hum, and the large screen flickered to life.

On display — the ground, broad daylight, the senior boys, and right at the center — Akshu, pushed, mocked, her shoulders stiff. Then the moment that sealed it — her outburst, her shove, her voice loud and sharp.

The sound echoed in the office — every insult hurled, every shove caught crystal clear.

Vanshu’s eyes widened, darting toward Akshu. Khushi’s stomach dropped. Bela’s jaw tightened further.

Bela (low, dangerous): “Toh yeh tha tumhara sach, Akshika… Bet lagayi tumne Haa?”

Akshu’s knees almost buckled. She shut her eyes tight, bracing herself for the storm she knew was about to break. The footage froze on the screen — Akshu’s outburst at the boys echoing like a gunshot in the tense silence.

Bela’s chair screeched faintly as she leaned forward, her glare piercing straight into Akshu.

Bela (furious, almost rising): “Bas! Yeh sab—”

Before her words could lash out, Mahir raised his hand slightly, his voice calm but firm.

Mahir (gently, measured): “Bela ma’am… ek minute. Please.”

His tone carried enough weight to pause even Bela. He turned his gaze toward Akshu, softer now, laced with concern.

Mahir: “Akshu… kya h yeh sab.. Kyu tolerate kar rahi thi yeh sab tum.. Is liye tum us din senior class ki notebooks likh rahi thi baith ke haina?

Akshu nods slightly, while glares Mahir first and then akshu as if saying.. "Wow... Mahir ji ko bhi pata h.. Aur kya kya karke rakha h tumne?"

Mahir: "Dekho jitna mai tumhe samajh paya hoon tum darne walo mai se hi nhi.. Jo bhi hua, sach batao. Sab ke saamne. Tumhari taraf se sunna zaroori hai.”

Akshu’s throat tightened. She shifted nervously, eyes flicking from Mahir’s steady gaze to Bela’s burning one. For a second, her lips quivered, but then Mahir gave a small, reassuring nod. That little gesture steadied her trembling heart.

She drew a shaky breath.

Akshu (voice low, breaking): “Woh… woh Pehle din un ladko ne aake meri strength ko challenge kiya kehne lage mai weak hoon.. Mai apne aap ko prove karna chahti thi is liye unki baatein sunti rahi the sochke ki ek baar mai prove kar dungi toh yeh mera peecha chod denge par wo mujhe roz kisi ka kisi baat pe trigger karte rahe.. Aur wo.. (she dared a glance towards Bela who was glaring her so hard as if shooting daggers at her, akshu immediately lowered her eyes) notebook ki bet is liye lagayi thi kyuki unhone meri intelligence ko challenge kiya ki mai kuch nhi kar sakti... Is liye bas har roz wo mujhe chedte the… apne assignments de jaate the… mujhe ulti seedhi baatein bolke trigger karte the… aur… aur sabke saamne mujhe dhakka diya…”

Her voice cracked, but she forced the words out, her fists clenching.

Akshu (now louder, eyes stinging): “Bas! Us waqt aur bardasht nahi hua. Gussa aa gaya. Isliye react kiya maine…”

The confession hung heavy in the room.

Khushi’s eyes widened, her head snapping toward Akshu. Vanshu froze, disbelief etched across her face. For a moment, silence. Then both of them burst — anger and betrayal flooding their voices.

Khushi (furious, glaring at Akshu): “Kya?! Yeh sab ho raha tha aur tu chup rahi?! Ek baar bhi nahi bataya humein?”

Vanshu (hurt, voice trembling with rage): “Tu kaise bardasht karti rahi, Akshu?! Itna sab seh liya aur humein toh kuch bataya bhi nahi?! Tu pagal ho gayi thi kya?!”

Akshu flinched, tears threatening to spill as she looked between her sisters’ enraged faces. Her lips moved, whispering—

Akshu (broken): “Mujhe laga… main handle kar lungi… tum dono already itne pareshaan the… main aur bojh nahi dalna chahti thi…”

Her words only made Khushi and Vanshu’s fury burn hotter. Their protective instincts screamed at them — how could she keep something like this hidden?

Bela’s glare deepened, her silence now more frightening than words. Mahir sighed inwardly, sensing the storm about to explode from all directions.

But Khushi slammed her palm on the table, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Khushi (snapping): “Tu pagal ho gayi thi kya?! Itna sab bardasht karti rahi aur ek baar bhi muh nahi khola? Kyu? Un ladko ka muh tod dete milke Pehle bola toh.. Hum dono ke upar baat aati h toh duniya se lad jaati h phir yaha chup kaise reh gayi.”

Vanshu shot up from her chair, fury blazing in her eyes as she pointed a finger at her sister.

Vanshu (furious, her voice shaking): “Hum teri behen hai ya sirf naam ki?! Tu sochti kya hai apne aap ko, ki hum tere problems sambhal nahi paayenge? Us ladko ne mujhe bas chedha tha toh tu itna maar ke aa gayi usey.. Par khud ke case mai kya kiya... Kyu kuch nhi bola.”

Akshu’s lips trembled as she tried to speak, but Khushi cut in, her anger now laced with pain.

Khushi (voice breaking, glaring): “Aur tujhse yeh expect nhi kiya tha na maine, Akshu?! Ki tu chup-chap insult, harassment sab seh legi aur hume last mein iss tarah se pata chalega?!”

Vanshu (harshly): “Ek baar bhi yaad nahi aayi tujhe ki hum dono tere saath hai?!”

The principal shifted uncomfortably, looking between the sisters, but the storm was unstoppable. Bela sat rigid, jaw tight, her silence radiating suppressed fire.

Akshu folded into herself, tears rolling freely now. Her voice came out like a whisper, almost begging.

Akshu (choked): “Mujhe laga main khud sambhal lungi… tum dono ko aur tension nahi dena chahti thi…”

Khushi’s eyes flared, tears of rage spilling out as she hissed through clenched teeth.

Khushi (furious, almost shouting): “Tension?! Yeh tujhe tension lagta hai, yeh harassment tha! Tere dignity ke khilaaf tha! Aur tu chup rahi.. Kaha h wo ladke.. Chodungi nhi unhe..”

Vanshu slammed the chair back, her fists trembling.

Vanshu (snarling): “Woh ladke agar abhi samne aaye na toh main khud tod dungi unki haddi-pasli! Par tu… tu ne humein andhere mein rakha, Akshu… aur yeh sab hote dete rahi!”

Akshu sobbed openly now, the guilt crushing her. Mahir placed a hand gently on Khushi’s arm, his voice a low anchor amidst the storm.

Mahir (firm but calm): “Bas… Khushi, Vanshu. Yeh gussa sahi hai, lekin yaha nhi.. Shaant ho jao.. Baat tum dono ne bhi chupayi h... Usne galti ki, par ab usse sambhalna hai.”

But the sisters’ fury wasn’t ready to calm — their love for Akshu had turned into raw, protective rage.

***

Bela’s (Inner Thoughts):

"Yeh kya kar liya isne apne saath... Abhi vanshu ke liye us ladke ko maar maar ke admara kar diya tha isne aur khud itna kuch sehne ke baad bhi chup kaise reh gayi? You are impulsive, never tolerate anything wrong against anyone phir aaj yeh sab kaise?Itna sab bardasht karti rahi… chup rahi… aur mujhe, mujhe bhi ek baar nahi bataya? "

Bela’s fists clenched tighter at her sides. Her eyes burned into Akshu, but behind that glare was a storm only she could feel.

"Main sochti thi tum alag ho… strong ho… apne liye stand lene jaanti ho... Galat ke khilaaf ladna jaanti ho.. par yeh kya strength thi? Har baat sehna? Apni self-respect ko roz maarna?

She exhaled sharply, jaw tight.

"Main tumhe bachana chahti hoon, tumhe defend karna chahti hoon… par tumhe dekh kar lag raha hai ki tum khud hi apne aap ko daba rahi ho. Akshu… tumse se ye ummeed nahi thi. Patience rakhne mai aur sab kuch sehne mai fark hota h.. Aur tumne Yeh janate hue bhi ki galat ho raha h saha h.. Aur yeh mujhe bardasht nhi.. "

And yet, under all the rage, Bela’s chest ached with something else — fear.

"Agar tum is tarah apna dard chhupaogi… toh kal ko kis halat mein milogi mujhe?"

Her nails dug into her palms. The teacher, the disciplinarian in her wanted to scream, to punish. But the woman inside her — the way mother-figure — only wanted to shake Akshu, hug her, and demand: “Why didn’t you trust me?”

Her stare stayed locked on Akshu, sharp and unflinching, but her insides whispered something far softer:

"Tumne mujhe hurt kiya hai, Akshu. Bahut zyada."

***

The click of the mouse echoed as the Principal opened the third file.

Vanshu’s stomach knotted instantly. “Bas… ab mera number hai.” Her palms turned clammy, throat drying up. And then— the realization struck: she was standing right beside Bela.

Her eyes darted to Bela’s clenched jaw, the simmering silence, the aura that screamed “I dare you.” Vanshu’s heart did a flip.

Without wasting a second, she shuffled backwards, slipping behind Akshu like a guilty child sneaking out of trouble. The new line was formed — Khushi now right next to Bela, Akshu in the middle, Vanshu all the way at the end.

Bela’s eyes narrowed sharply at the movement, her gaze cutting straight through Vanshu like a knife.

Bela (muttering under her breath, seething): “Haan haan… ab yeh karlo pehle.. Bahar hi chale jao na.. Chhupne se bachegi kya?”

Vanshu kept her eyes glued to the floor, refusing to meet Bela’s glare.

Meanwhile, Mahir, who had been trying hard to keep the situation in control, bit the inside of his cheek. His lips twitched dangerously, his shoulders giving a tiny shake.

Mahir (inner thought, amused): “Yeh bacche na… jail ke qaidi se kam nahi behave kar rahi. Bas handcuff hi missing hai.”

He quickly brought his hand to his mouth, pretending to adjust his cufflinks, hiding the smile that threatened to escape.

The tension in the room was unbearable, but this unintentional musical chairs act almost made him forget they were in the middle of a disciplinary hearing.

And then—

Principal Sir: “Let’s continue… the third footage.”

The screen lit up again, dragging everyone back into the storm. Vanshu’s heart sank into her shoes.

Beside her, Akshu and Khushi both whipped their heads, glaring daggers at her.

Akshu (hissed, under breath): “Tu kyu idhar Aa gayi wapas?”

Khushi (muttering): “Mujhe fasane ke liye.. Aur kya.. ”

Vanshu pretended not to hear, her eyes darting anywhere but theirs.

On the screen, the truth unraveled. The footage showed Vanshu receiving folded notes — one after another, through the week. The camera angle made it look even worse, as if she were orchestrating some underground racket.

Bela’s nostrils flared, her jaw tightening. Her gaze snapped to Vanshu like a laser.

Bela (dangerous, low voice): “Vanshika… saare notes kaha hai? Aur wo messages dikhao mujhe”

Vanshu froze, her breath caught. “Vanshu se seedha Vanshika.. Ab toh gayi mai… thana mai trailer hi dekha tha… ab madam toh puri movie direct karengi. Kya musibat h yaar…”

Slowly, nervously, she shoved her hands inside her skirt pocket, fumbling. The crumpled stack of notes felt like burning coal against her skin. With trembling fingers, she pulled those notes and her phone and extended them towards Bela.

Bela snatched them, her glare unrelenting.

Mahir leaned back, exhaling through his nose, muttering under his breath only loud enough for himself.

Mahir (inner thought, sarcastic): “Bas… very good. Teeno ke teeno ek se badhkar ek. Kya kaand kiye hain waah… ek ne teacher ko suna diya, ek ne ground pe drama kiya, aur ek notes ka smuggling racket chala rahi hai. Agar police report likhni padti toh charge sheet 10 pages ki hoti.”

He pressed his lips together, fighting back the urge to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all. But Bela’s fury filling the room reminded him — abhi mazaak ka mood bilkul nahi tha.

The room went still again, everyone waiting for Bela’s explosion.

Bela opened the phone first and read all the messages and then unfolded the first note, her eyes skimming the messy handwriting. A sharp scoff escaped her lips. Then the second. Then the third. With each word, her brows furrowed deeper, her jaw locked tighter.

Bela (seething, voice low but deadly): “Yeh sab… tumhe mil raha tha ek hafte se?”

Vanshu gulped, her throat dry as sand.

Vanshu (nervous, stammering): “W-woh… ma’am… mai soch rahi thi bas ignore kar doon… chhoti baat hogi…”

Bela (cutting in, voice like a whip): “Chhoti baat? Yeh tumhe chhoti baat lagti hai? Har din ek note… har din ek challenge… aur tum chup chap bardasht karti rahi? Agar kuch galat ho jaata toh?!”

Her words lashed through the air, making Vanshu flinch.

Akshu and Khushi stood frozen, anger and disbelief flashing across their faces.

Khushi (fuming, to Vanshu): “Yeh sab ek hafte chal raha h great.. Kab batane wali thi tum Haa?”

Akshu (snapping): “Agar pehle bolti toh wahi matter sort ho jaata… ab sab ke saamne tamasha ban gaya hai!”

Vanshu’s eyes burned with unshed tears. She shifted her weight uncomfortably, glancing away from all three pairs of piercing eyes on her.

Vanshu (muttering, almost pleading): “Main… main aapko tension nahi dena chahti thi…”

Bela’s fists tightened around the stack of notes, her glare enough to freeze fire.

Bela (furious, stepping closer): “Tension nahi dena chahti thi? Tumhe samajh bhi hai tumhari stupidity ka consequence kya ho sakta tha? Yeh koi filmy drama nahi hai Vanshika. Har cheez ignore karke solve nahi hoti. Tumhare silence ne sabse zyada problem create ki hai, baat thane tak chali gayi thi!”

For a moment, the entire room fell heavy again — Bela’s anger, the trio’s shame, and Mahir’s quiet sighs balancing the storm.

Mahir finally stepped in, his tone calm but firm, placing a hand lightly on Bela’s arm.

Mahir: “Bela… bas. Gussa baad mein bhi ho sakta hai. Pehle calmly poora case sun lete hain. Fir decide karenge kya karna hai.”

Bela turned her fiery gaze towards him, but his steady eyes softened her edges just a little. She exhaled sharply, holding the notes tighter.

Bela (to Vanshu, controlled but stern): “Yeh matter yahin khatam nahi hoga. Ghar pe bhi baat hogi. Aur tum teenon… samajh lo ki ab tumhari freedom khatre mein hai.”

Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu exchanged guilty looks — all three realizing they were officially doomed.

***

Bela’s POV

“Mujhe samajh nahi aa raha yeh ladki ko kya ho gaya tha… ek hafte se yeh notes mil rahe the aur chup thi? Kya sochti hai yeh… ki duniya ka burden khud uthayegi? Ya baat itni causal h ki khud handle kar legi.. Gussa is baat ka nahi ki yeh victim bani… gussa is baat ka hai ki itna sab hone ke baad bhi bola nahi... Yeh kaunsi responsibility hai jo bina bataye sab sehni padti hai? Yeh kaunsa maturity ka level hai jo khud ko hi danger mein daal de? Main disappointed hoon… bohot. Mujhe laga tha at least yeh samajhdaar h mujhe trust karegi… par yeh toh aur hi khamoshi mein ulajh gayi. Yeh silence ne cheezon ko aur bigaad diya. Thane tak baat chali gayi.. Agar situation control mai nhi aayi toh kya hota? shayad yeh dar gayi hogi, shayad socha hoga main overreact karungi. Lekin… main isse yeh samjhane wali hoon ki silence kabhi solution nahi hota... Abhi bas gussa dikh raha hai… par yeh samajhti kyu nhi h.. Agar note ya messages ki jagah kuch aur hota toh? Agar kuch serious ho jaata toh? Tab main apne aapko kabhi maaf nahi kar pati. In teeno ki safety meri responsibility h samajhte kyu nhi h yeh.”

***

Bela takes a slow, dangerous step forward. Her eyes, sharp as blades, lock onto the trio.

Instantly, the girls start shifting like pieces on a chessboard.

Khushi gulps hard and, without a second thought, slides to the far end.

Akshu follows, her feet scraping nervously against the floor.

Vanshu too edges sideways — until thud! she bumps straight into the office wall, wide-eyed like a trapped rabbit.

Principal Sir hides a smile behind his hand. Mahir, biting his lip, looks down at the floor to stop himself from laughing.

Now the "formation" is complete — Khushi right in front of Bela’s fiery glare, Akshu stuck awkwardly in the middle, and Vanshu squished against the wall like she’d melt into it if possible.

Khushi (thinking, panicked): “Bas… ab khatam. Yeh aage kaise aa gayi mai.. Abhi tak toh end mai thi.”

Akshu (under her breath to Khushi): “Tere shifting ke chakkar mein main phas gayi beech mein! Shukar kar abhi main zinda hoon…”

Vanshu (muttering, glaring at both): “Aur tum dono ke natak ke chakkar mein deewar se chipak gayi hoon main! Yeh koi position hai?!”

Bela narrows her eyes further, her heels clicking ominously as she closes the gap. The trio freeze like statues, their faces stiff with guilt and fear.

Principal Sir exchanges a knowing look with Mahir.

Principal (soft chuckle): “Seems like your presence alone is enough discipline, Mrs. Sehgal.”

Mahir (murmuring, amused): “Presence? No sir her name is only enough. Teeno ke chehre dekh kar toh lag raha hai jaise court martial hone wala hai.”

Bela’s glare sweeps over all three, landing on Khushi in front. She leans in slightly, her voice a low growl:

“Shifting se zyada tumhe apne kaand samajhne chahiye… samjhi?”

Khushi nods so fast it looks like she’s bowing, while Akshu and Vanshu shrink back even more — though there’s nowhere left to run.

Bela’s gaze lands squarely on Khushi, sharp as a blade. Her eyes flashed with restrained fury, each breath sharp. She leaned slightly forward, voice cutting like steel:

“Khushi… abhi Radhika ma’am ke saamne jao and apologize for your misbehavior. Tumhari galti thi, samjhi?”

Khushi felt her chest tighten. Every instinct screamed to obey, but the weight of the week — the humiliation, the insults, the constant pressure — finally flipped her fear into defiance.

Stepping forward deliberately, she positioned herself squarely in front of Bela. Her stance was rigid, unwavering, her voice steady yet charged:

“NO. Ma’am, sorry for disobeying you, but mai sorry nahi bolungi… Kyunki maine jo bhi kaha, wo sach tha. Aur sach ke liye… main peeche nahi hatungi.”

The words rang boldly in the office, unflinching.

Bela froze for a heartbeat, jaw clenching tight, eyes narrowing like daggers. The air grew dense with tension, her patience stretching to the limit. Every pulse in her body screamed — part fury at Khushi’s audacity, part frustration at the sheer force of truth standing before her.

Khushi’s glare met Bela’s head-on, a fire born from days of bottled-up anger and injustice.

Principal Sir raised an eyebrow, observing quietly, while Mahir leaned forward slightly, tense yet supportive, his gaze flicking between Khushi and Bela.

Bela’s voice dropped, low and dangerous, teeth gritted:

“Khushi… don't force me to do something I don't want to.. tumne apni had paar kar di hai. Sach ya jhoot… respect aur discipline ka farq samajhna hoga tumhe. She is your teacher.. Unhone jo kiya wo sahi h ya galat wo decide karne ki authority principal sir ke pass h.. You don't have the right to misbehave with her and back answer her.. Apologise now!”

Khushi stood firm, heart hammering, though a flicker of anxiety crept in — she knew she was in Bela’s full wrath zone now.

Vanshu and Akshu exchanged nervous glances, the tension thick between them. Even their protective presence couldn’t shield Khushi for much longer if Bela chose to act.

To be continued...