So let’s begin,

PRINCIPAL OFFICE – CONTINUED

Khushi stood her ground, unwavering, her jaw tight. No matter what punishment came her way, she was determined — she would not apologize.

Akshu and Vanshu, standing close by, exchanged tense whispers.

Akshu (whispering, anxious):

“Yeh itna guts kaha se aa gaya isme… Has she lost her mind? She’s forgotten who’s standing in front of her…Waise galat nhi h lekin mujhe dar h ma'am ka gussa agar limit cross kar gaya toh yahi pe na fat jaaye..”

Vanshu (nodding, worried):

“Hmm.. Dar toh h.. Galti hui h teeno se.. Lekin ab jo h saath mai face karenge.. Filhaal khushi ko rokna hoga yeh guts kahi bhaari na pad jaaye ispe.”

Bela (internally, simmering):

“Yeh ladki.. How dare she stand in front of me and disobey like this.. Himmat dikhane mai aur badtameezi karne mai fark hota h and abhi jo yeh kar rahi h yeh badtameezi h..”

Sensing Bela’s anger about to erupt, Mahir stepped closer. He gently grasped her hand, meeting her eyes with calm authority.

Mahir (softly, urging):

“Bela… calm down. Humein shaanti se solve karna hogatoh yeh matter.”

He then turned to Principal Sir, his tone measured and responsible:

Mahir:

“Sir, we’ve seen everything, and we understand the mistakes the girls have made. As their guardian, I take responsibility for their actions. I assure you this will not happen again. Please give them one chance — I promise they will work on themselves.”

While Mahir handled the conversation with composure, Bela’s sharp gaze remained fixed on the trio, unwavering, piercing through each of them.

Principal Sir sighed, acknowledging the gravity of the situation:

Principal Sir:

“We understand, Mr. Sehgal. The children have made mistakes, but under your guidance and Bela Ma’am’s supervision, I am confident they will learn from their mistakes. In fact, our school needs students with such courage — they simply require the right direction. I trust you and Bela Ma’am will provide that.

“As for the senior boys who harassed Akshika, strict action will be taken, and Rohit, who troubled Vanshika, will not be spared either.

(he pauses, glancing once towards Khushi and then speaking with his authority)

“One final point — Khushi. She will need to apologize to Ms. Radhika. We recognize that Radhika Ma’am overstepped and should have handled the situation differently, but according to school discipline and protocol, Khushi’s misbehavior cannot be overlooked. A written apology is required. This is to ensure no precedent is set for other students.”

Before Mahir could respond, Bela’s firm and professional voice cut in, still fixated on Khushi:

Bela (calm, authoritative):

“Don’t worry, Sir. The apology is my responsibility. I will ensure it is written and submitted to your table by Monday morning. But please take the necessary actions regarding the boys. I’ll handle Khushi’s part personally.”

Khushi, standing with her head bowed but still resolute, listened silently. Akshu and Vanshu let out small, relieved sighs. Mahir’s eyes softened, knowing Bela had taken control and the situation was finally moving toward resolution — discipline and guidance balanced with fairness.

The Principal finally closed the file on his desk, giving one last glance at the trio.

Principal Sir (firmly):

“You may leave now. I expect better from all three of you.”

The girls murmured a soft “Yes, Sir” before shuffling out, Bela and Mahir right behind them.

Just as they stepped into the corridor, Coach Sir, who had silently witnessed the storm inside, approached Akshika. His voice was calm but encouraging:

Coach Sir:

“Akshika… the matter is closed now. No one will harass you again. From Monday onwards, be prepared to practice with more enthusiasm.”

Akshu, still a little shaken but grateful, nodded obediently.

Akshu: “Ji, Sir.”

Mahir, trying to lighten the tension in the air, chimed in with a teasing half-smile:

Mahir:

“Monday tak practice pe aa bhi payegi ya nahi… doubt hai, Sir. Doctor ki appointment jo hai.”

Coach Sir (frowning, confused):

“Doctor’s appointment? But why, Sir? Kya problem hai? Kuch hua h?”

Mahir (smirking, deadpan):

“Arre, abhi hua kahan hai, Sir… abhi toh hoga.”

Coach Sir (puzzled, blinking):

“Hoga? Matlab… she’ll be able to participate or not?”

Mahir (shrugging dramatically):

“Kehna mushkil hai, Sir.”

Before he could add more fuel, Bela’s sharp glare cut straight into him like a knife. Mahir’s words stuck mid-air, his grin vanishing. He instantly straightened, lips sealed, like a schoolboy caught red-handed.

Behind them, the trio huddled, whispering furiously.

Vanshu (muttering):

“Wah… sir ne toh aag me ghee dal diya. Yeh hume yaha bachane aaye h ya maze lene.”

Akshu (groaning softly):

“Dono..ma’am ka gussa abhi kam bhi nahi hua tha.”

Khushi (facepalming):

“Bas… ab ghar pe doctor ki zaroorat hume padegi.”

The Coach blinked between the two of them, still clueless.

Bela, without a word, turned on her heel. The trio scurried after her, and Mahir followed quietly — because survival, after all, depended on knowing when to shut up.

[Car Ride – Evening]

The car door slammed shut. Inside, silence thickened like fog. The trio sat squeezed together in the backseat — pale, stiff, and praying silently that invisibility cloaks were real. Khushi clutched her bag nervously, Akshu kept fidgeting with her bag and Vanshu stared fixedly out of the window as if Mumbai ki traffic signs suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.

At the front, Bela gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles whitened. Mahir sat in the passenger seat, fidgeting, clearly aware of the volcano simmering next to him.

Finally… boom.

Bela (snapping, eyes still on the road):

“Mahir ji! Kya zaroorat thi wo doctor waali bakwaas bolne ki?!”

Mahir (innocently, hands up):

“Arre, main toh sirf thoda sa mazak kar raha tha… tension kam karne ke liye—”

Bela (cuts in, fiery glare):

“Mazak?! Us waqt? Jab main teeno ke kaand sunke apna gussa control kar rahi thi?!”

Mahir (meekly, trying to smile):

“Matlab… thoda humour situation ko light kar deta hai—”

Bela (voice rising, dangerous calm):

“Light? Aapko mazaak sujh raha tha?! Principal sir ke saamne?! Doctor ki baat karke aapko lagta h mujhe hassi aayi hogi?!”

Mahir (mumbling under breath):

“Ab hassi toh nahi… par coach sir thoda confuse ho gaye the…”

Bela (snapping her head toward him):

“Kya kaha aapne?!”

Mahir (instantly straightening, fast):

“Kuch nahi!”

The trio in the back nearly choked holding in their laughter. Khushi dug her nails into Vanshu’s arm to stop giggling, while Akshu whispered under her breath:

Akshu (muttering):

“Doctor ki appointment toh ab sir ko chahiye hogi…”

Vanshu (stifling a laugh):

“Haan… orthopaedic ke paas seedha bhejna hoga ma’am ka gussa dekhne ke baad.”

Bela’s sharp eyes caught their reflections in the rearview mirror.

Bela (icily):

“Kuch kaha tum logon ne?”

Trio (in unison, sitting bolt upright):

“Nahi Ma’am!!”

Dead silence followed again, only the sound of traffic horns outside. Mahir adjusted his collar, leaned back slowly, and whispered just loud enough for Bela to hear:

Mahir:

“Bas… Monday tak zinda bach jaayein… wahi miracle hoga.”

Bela shot him another dagger-like glare. Mahir shut up instantly.

The rest of the ride continued in pin-drop silence — the trio too scared to breathe, and Mahir praying under his breath for survival.

--

[Sehgal House – Evening]

The main door clicked open.

Bela stormed inside first, her heels striking the floor like gunshots, jaw locked in molten fury. The trio trailed behind like prisoners being marched into custody — heads bowed, hearts pounding.

From the living room, three little heads popped up — Team Aashvi had been sprawled on the carpet with their toys. The moment they spotted their Mumma, they froze.

Aashi (wide-eyed, whispering):

“Mumma itne gusse mein kyun hain?”

Kiku (clutching her toy car):

“Lagta hai didi log ne bada kaand kiya hai…”

Vanu (gulping, tugging Mahir’s sleeve as he walked in last):

“Papa… sach batao na… kya hua? Mumma volcano jaisi kyun lag rahi hain?”

Mahir, wiping the sweat off his forehead, bent down to their level and forced a strained smile.

Mahir (whispering hurriedly):

“Shhh… abhi nahi. Tum teeno bas apna homework karne chalo… warna tumhari Mumma tum logon ko bhi daant dengi.”

The kids blinked, exchanged glances, and without another word scampered off towards their room.

Meanwhile, Bela halted in the middle of the hall. Her fiery eyes turned back to the trio — Khushi, Akshu, Vanshu — who stood huddled together like guilty puppies.

Bela (low, dangerous voice):

“Study room mai aao 5 minutes. Sab ke sab.”

The trio stiffened. Khushi’s hand twitched nervously at her side, Akshu’s throat went dry, and Vanshu whispered under her breath:

Vanshu (muttering to Khushi):

“Trailer school mein dekh liya… ab full movie yahin chalegi.”

Akshu (whispering back, panicked):

“Mujhe toh lag raha hai interval bhi nahi milega… Monday tak bas chalne layak bach jaaye”

Khushi said nothing. She just exhaled slowly, trying to summon the same courage she had shown earlier. But her eyes flickered toward Bela’s rigid back, and a shiver ran down her spine.

Bela didn’t turn, didn’t repeat herself — just started walking towards the study room, every step echoing authority.

Mahir watched this deadly march, tensed for the trio as he knew Bela’s anger too well. Under his breath, he murmured:

Mahir:

“Bela bas thoda shaanti se tackle karna… ab asli gussa footega uska jo usne ab tak control karke rakha tha.”

And with that, the trio followed their judge into the study room.

[Sehgal House – Study Room Door – Evening]

The three of them stood frozen outside the study, like soldiers about to walk into enemy fire. Their hearts thudded so loudly they swore Bela could probably hear them from inside.

Khushi, who had stood tall and defiant in front of Radhika just hours ago, now found her knees wobbling. The words she had spoken — bold, fiery, unapologetic — still echoed in her head, but courage had vanished somewhere between the school gate and Sehgal House.

Khushi (thinking, biting her lip):

“Galti toh hui thi… lekin ma’am ke saamne itna kaise bol gayi? Ab… ab kya hoga…”

Just then Akshu leaned closer, whispering in panic, her eyes darting to her own bare legs under the school skirt.

Akshu (urgent whisper):

“Yaar… hum log uniform skirt mein hain. Agar ma’am ne maar diya na toh seedha jaan tak hil jaayegi. Pair toot jayenge.. Jaldi chal full pant pehen aate hain pehle.”

Khushi blinked at her in disbelief, while Vanshu spun around, glaring, whisper-shouting through clenched teeth.

Vanshu:

“Pagal ho gayi hai kya tu?! Ma’am ne 5 minute bola tha. 5 min ho gaye hain. Abhi andar nahi gaye toh double maar padegi. Chal chup-chaap!”

Akshu pouted, muttering under her breath.

Akshu:

“Bas keh rahi thi… thoda cushion mil jaata…”

Before Khushi could even roll her eyes, Vanshu pushed the doorknob. The heavy wooden door creaked open, and the three walked in — shoulders hunched, steps slow, like guilty puppies walking straight into the lion’s den.

Inside, Bela was already waiting. Arms crossed, eyes sharp as daggers, the silence around her so thick it felt like another punishment in itself.

Khushi instinctively stepped behind Vanshu, who nudged her back forward. Akshu tried the same trick, but Vanshu shoved her too, until the three stood awkwardly side by side — like convicts lining up in front of their judge.

Bela’s piercing gaze swept over them once — and the trio collectively gulped.

---

[Sehgal House – Study Room]

Bela stood in the center like a commander in battlefield — only instead of a sword, she had a stick in her hand. The faint thak-thak as she tapped it against her palm was enough to make the trio’s stomachs drop.

Her glare swept over them once — slow, deliberate, terrifying. Then her voice, sharp and commanding:

Bela: “Khushi… ek kone mein jao. Aur abhi ke abhi apne kaan pakdo.”

Khushi’s mouth fell open in shock.

Khushi (thinking, horrified): “Corner punishment? Yeh toh… kindergarten treatment h.. Ya bas shuruaat h!”

But one more look at Bela’s blazing eyes was enough. She scrambled off to the corner, clutching her ears like a guilty five-year-old.

Bela (without pause): “Vanshu. Dusre kone mein. Same.”

Vanshu gulped hard, shooting a betrayed look at Akshu.

Vanshu (thinking): “Ho gaya shuru lagta h ek ek karke pitenge sab.. Aur pehle akshu swaha hogi!”

She obeyed — trudging to the opposite corner, gripping her ears tight.

Now only Akshu remained in the middle, her eyes wide, her face pale. She shifted awkwardly, whispering under her breath.

Akshu (muttering): “Mujhe akela kyun chhod diya… yeh toh clear target punishment hai.”

Before she could even blink, Bela pointed the stick right at her.

Bela (dangerously calm): “Aur tum… idhar. Mere saamne. Seedha meri aankhon ke saamne khadi ho jao.”

Akshu’s breath hitched. She felt her legs moving on autopilot, bringing her right in front of Bela — so close she could feel the weight of that stare drilling through her skull.

From their corners, Khushi and Vanshu exchanged a look of pity.

Khushi (soft whisper, cupping her mouth): “All the best, Akshu…”

Vanshu (whispering back, resigned): “Haan… ab bhagwan hi bacha sakta hai isse.”

Meanwhile, Akshu stood frozen in the middle, the “chosen scapegoat,” staring at the stick in Bela’s hand and praying silently that today wasn’t her last day alive.

Akshu stands a little away from Bela’s reach, but the sharp tap of the stick on the floor makes her flinch. Bela points to the exact spot in front of her with the stick. Akshu gulps and, with trembling steps, moves forward.

The stick comes down hard on her leg. A sharp sting spreads instantly.

Khushi and Vanshu squeeze their eyes shut. Before the pain can fade, another hit lands.

Bela (furious):

“Bohut shauk chadha hai tumhe sabko prove karne ka, haan? Kya prove karna chahti thi? Kitni strong ho tum? Kitni intelligent ho? Ya phir kitni bewakoof ho jo yeh sab tolerate kar rahi thi!”

Another sharp hit makes Akshu’s knees buckle slightly, but she steadies herself.

Bela (eyes blazing):

“Ab main dekhti hoon kitni strong ho. Aaj pata chal jayega sab. Tum toh strong ho na? Toh dard hoga nahi. So don’t you dare move an inch from here, warna yeh danda tumhare upar hi tod dungi!”

Two more blows. Akshu bites her lip hard, her fingers clenching the hem of her skirt to keep from crying out.

Khushi (internally, helpless):

“Ma’am itne gusse mein hain… kya karu? Akshu se galti hui, yeh maanti hoon. Par usko aise dekh bhi nahi sakti. Agar rokun toh kahin usi gusse ka nishana Akshu aur na ban jaaye…”

Vanshu (internally, shaken):

“Ab tak uspe gussa aa raha tha ki ek hafte se sab bardasht karti rahi aur kuch share bhi nahi kiya… lekin ab darr lag raha hai. Ma’am bohot gusse mein hain… main rok bhi sakti…”

But Bela doesn’t stop. Hit after hit lands, and though Akshu doesn’t move an inch as ordered, her legs are trembling violently.

Bela (voice cutting through the silence):

“Kya hua? Abhi bhi strength bachi hai, haan? Bolo! Kyunki duniya ko saabit karne ka theka lekar rakha hai tumne. Sabko prove karna hai ki ‘main kitni strong hoon’… right, Akshika? Answer me!”

Another hit.

Bela (relentless):

“Tum kya ho, kya nahi… aur kitni capable ho… yeh saabit karne ke liye tumhe dusron ke ishare pe chalne ki zarurat nahi hai! Prove it through your work! Achhe marks se prove karo, apni leadership se prove karo, apni skills se prove karo!”

The stick cracks again against her legs.

Bela (seething, but with a sharp lesson hidden in her words):

“Par tumne kya kiya? Galat ka saath diya. Khud ki notebook tumse complete hoti nahi aur dusron ki karne chali thi? Ek baat yaad rakhna, Akshika—galat karne wale se zyada galat sehne wala zimmedaar hota hai. Kyunki woh hi unhe mauka deta hai apna faayda uthane ka.”

Two more punishing hits.

Bela (lowering her tone but cutting deep):

“Apne gusse ko dusron ke liye nahi… apne liye bhi use karna seekho. Apne liye stand lena seekho. Samjhi?”

The stick rests at her side, but Akshu’s trembling figure says more than any answer could.

Akshu’s legs tremble violently, but she doesn’t move. Every strike echoes in the room, louder than the last. Bela’s words cut as sharply as the stick, each one searing deeper than the pain.

Khushi grips the corner wall, her nails digging into the plaster. Her chest is heaving — she can’t take it anymore.

Khushi (blurting out, voice shaky):

“Ma’am… bas kijiye na, please! Akshu se galti hui hai, lekin… aap usse itna mat maariye…”

Vanshu’s eyes widen in shock — Khushi ne… bol diya!

Bela’s head snaps toward Khushi, her glare so fierce it makes the air freeze.

Bela (thundering):

“Khushi!”

Khushi gulps, her knees nearly giving way, but she doesn’t lower her eyes. Tears are already brimming.

Khushi (voice breaking, almost pleading):

“Ma’am…please... Usne galti ki, usne sab seh liya ek hafte tak… aapko kuch bataya bhi nahi… galat tha mai jaanti hoon par ab aur nahi ho raha mujhse dekhna…”

Bela slams the stick against the floor, the sound making both Vanshu and Akshu flinch.

Bela (scathingly):

“Bas! Tum dono ko lagta hai main tumhari dushman hoon? Tumhari ma’m ban ke tumhare liye khadi hoon aur tum samajh hi nahi pa rahi ho? Galti uski thi aur zimmedaari tum dono ki bhi! Tum teeno zimmedar ho ek dusre ki galti ke liye.. Aise har choti badi baat teeno ek dusre se share karte ho phir is baar kyu nhi kiya jab teeno ko ek dusre ka saath chahiye tha.. Bolo!”

Her words strike harder than the blows.

Khushi covers her face with her hands, trembling. Vanshu, scared stiff till now, feels her throat choke — part fear, part guilt.

Akshu, still clutching her skirt, whispers hoarsely through clenched teeth, her voice breaking but defiant:

“Ma’am… please… unhe mat dantiyega… sab meri hi galti thi…”

Bela’s eyes soften just for a second at Akshu’s words — but her face hardens again immediately.

She raises the stick once more, this time not just to punish — but to drill her lesson deeper. The stick gleaming under the yellow study room light. Akshu stays rooted in place, lips pressed tight, eyes lowered. She doesn’t plead anymore — she knows, deep down, she deserves this.

Bela (furious, voice cutting through the air):

“Curse words use karna seekh gayi ho, haan? Maar-peet karogi bas? Har problem ka solution tumhe bas fight lagta hai?”

CRACK — another sharp strike lands.

Bela’s voice thunders, but underneath it, a faint tremble creeps in:

“Aage jaake koi baat hogi toh kya karogi? Har baar ladogi sabse? Jis behremi se tumne aur Khushi ne—”

Her eyes snap toward Khushi, a glare like fire. Khushi gulps hard, tears spilling silently.

“—us ladke ko maara… agar use kuch ho jaata toh?! Suspend ho sakte the tum dono school se! Case court tak jaa sakta tha! Hosh tha tumhe?!”

Another strike. Akshu flinches but doesn’t move, her knuckles white as she clutches her skirt tighter.

Bela (voice breaking, almost shattering):

“Galat ke khilaaf aawaz uthana seekho… lekin yeh maar-peet? Yeh kabhi solution nahi hota! Tumhe bas problem mein daal sakta hai!”

This time when the stick falls, the sound echoes — but Bela doesn’t raise it again. Her hand trembles, her chest rising and falling sharply. Slowly, finally, she lets the stick slip from her fingers, clattering against the floor.

Akshu’s body is trembling now, legs weak, arms stinging with angry red welts. Still, she dares to lift her gaze — and what she sees makes her heart twist.

Bela’s eyes, red and glistening, hold no anger now. Only fear… concern… and a love too fierce to put into words.

Akshu’s lips quiver, her throat thick with guilt. For the first time, the pain in her body feels smaller than the pain she sees in Bela’s eyes.

Akshu (hoarse whisper):

“Ma’am… I’m sorry…”

The stick lies forgotten on the floor. The real weight now is in the silence that follows.

Akshu’s trembling legs finally give way — she can’t hold herself upright anymore. The guilt pressing on her chest feels heavier than the sting of every strike. Slowly, shakily, she bends her knees and drops to the floor right in front of Bela.

Her hands go up instinctively, clutching her ears as her eyes brim with tears.

Akshu (choking, voice breaking):

“Ma’am… I’m sorry… bahut badi galti ho gayi mujhse. Mujhe lagta tha main strong hoon… lekin main bewakoof thi. Aap sahi thi… maar-peet se kuch solve nahi hota. Mai apne aap ko prove karne mai itni pagal ho gayi thi ki samajh hi nhi payi mai apne saath galat kar rahi hoon.. Mujhe laga tha mai un ladko ko ek baar prove kar dungi toh wo mera peecha chod denge.. Unki notebook complete karne ki shart laga baithi bina soche ki wo galat h.. Please maaf kar dijiye..”

Bela stares down at her, chest still heaving, fingers twitching as if she wants to pull Akshu up but holds herself back.

Akshu bows her head lower, tears dripping to the floor.

Akshu (pleading softly):

“Ma’am, please… ek chance aur dijiye. Main wapas aisi galti kabhi nahi karungi. Aapko disappoint nahi karungi. Bas mujhe maaf kar dijiye.”

Behind her, Khushi and Vanshu’s eyes burn with tears too. Seeing their sister like this — kneeling, holding her ears — makes their throats ache, but neither dares to speak.

Bela’s lips pressed into a thin line as she watches Akshu’s trembling frame. The weight of fear and love she carries for these girls only grew heavier.

Her eyes didn’t soften even for a second. She let Akshu’s apology hang in the air, not responding with either comfort or forgiveness. Her grip on the stick was steady, her posture unyielding.

Bela (firm, clipped):

“Bas. Ab uth jao… aur jaake kone mein khadi ho jao… kaan pakad ke.”

Akshu, still sniffling, immediately nodded. She wiped her tears quickly with the back of her hand, her body aching from the sting of every strike. With trembling steps, she moved towards the corner, lifted her hands to her ears, and stood as ordered — her head bowed, shoulders hunched.

Bela’s gaze lingered on her for a second, then shifted slowly — dangerously — across the room.

Her eyes stopped first at Vanshu. Her throat went dry; she shifted nervously on her feet, heart hammering in her chest. For a moment it seemed Bela Might call her name.

But then, Bela’s sharp gaze slid past her — locking squarely on Khushi.

Khushi’s stomach dropped. Her body stiffened where she stood, realizing the inevitable. Her fingers curled into fists by her sides, but her eyes flickered with both fear and that stubborn spark she had shown earlier.

Bela’s expression didn’t change. The same cold, assessing glare. The kind that made it impossible to guess what was coming next.

Bela’s eyes, sharp and unrelenting, moved from Khushi’s defiant stance back to Vanshu — who had been trying to disappear into the corner of the room.

For a moment, Vanshu thought maybe she was safe. Maybe Khushi’s boldness had drawn all of Bela’s fury. But then—

Bela (voice low, dangerous):

“Vanshika… idhar aao.”

The stick in her hand tapped once against the floor, the sound echoing through the study room like a warning bell.

Vanshu’s heart jumped to her throat. She swallowed hard, her palms clammy as she dared a glance at Khushi, then at Akshu still standing with her ears held. Khushi’s eyes widened slightly, silently mouthing “ab toh gayi tu”.

Vanshu dragged her feet forward, every step heavier than the last, until she stood a few feet away from Bela. Her head was bowed, but her hands fidgeted at her sides, betraying her fear.

Bela (coldly, tilting her head):

“Notes aur messages… ek hafte se mil rahe the tumhe. Roz roz phone switch off karke, notes pocket mein daal ke laati thi. Zubaan kyun band rahi? Ek baar bhi bolne ki himmat nahi hui? Kya socha tha, chup rahogi toh baat khud hi solve ho jaayegi?”

Her glare intensified, voice slicing through the silence.

Bela (raising the stick slightly):

“Answer me, Vanshika.”

Vanshu’s lips trembled. She gulped and stammered, her voice almost a whisper:

“Ma’am… wo… main dar gayi thi… Pehle mujhe laga koi prank kar raha h mere saath mujhe samajh nhi aaya.. Socha tha… apne aap band kar dega wo ladka lekin jab wo samane aaya toh samajh aaya ki wo mazak nhi kar raha tha…”

Bela didn’t let her finish.

Bela (snapping, with fury):

“Dar! Prank! Tumhari wajah se unhe aur himmat mili tumhe note bhejne ki. Kyuki tum ignore karti rahi aur koi action nhi liya unke khilaaf.. Tumhare chup rehne ne unko aur mauka diya. Agar tumne pehle din hi baat uthaayi hoti toh shayad aaj yeh din dekhna hi na padta. Samajhti ho?”

The stick tapped against Vanshu’s leg — not a full strike yet, but enough to make her flinch.

Behind her, Khushi muttered under her breath, half in sympathy, half nervous:

“Bas… ab shuru ho gaya Vanshu ka round.”

Akshu squeezed her eyes shut tighter in the corner, clutching her ears, silently thinking: “Thank god abhi meri baari khatam hui… warna aur lagta.”

Vanshu stood frozen, her knees weak, palms pressed together in a silent plea. But Bela’s face had hardened into steel. Without another warning, the stick came down sharply across her leg.

Vanshu (hissing in pain, trembling):

“Ahh… Ma’am!”

Bela’s voice rose, thunderous, layered with both fury and disappointment:

Bela:

“Chup raho! Ek hafte se tumhe messages aur notes mil rahe the aur tum chup chap seh rahi thi. Tumhari iss chup rehne ki wajah ne hi sabse badi musibat khadi ki hai. Agar pehle din hi tumne baat uthayi hoti toh aaj hum police station tak Jaane ki naubat nhi aati!”

The stick cracked down again, this time sharper, making Vanshu stumble back a step.

Bela (snapping, eyes blazing):

“Samajhti ho Vanshika? Tumhare silence ne Khushi ko aur Akshika ko trigger kiya. Jab tumhare saath galat ho raha tha, tumne kuch nahi bola… aur jab tak baat un tak pahunchi toh dono ne apna gussa maar-peet mein nikala! Tumhare ek decision ne sabko risk mein daal diya! Yeh dono toh h hi pagal tumhare upar baat aati h toh saari limits bhul jaate h apni.. Aur wahi kiya dono ne.”

She landed two more firm strikes, her words cutting as deeply as the stick:

Bela:

“Tumhare iss ke dar ki wajah se… tumhari iss galat sehne ki wajah se… tumhare dost police station tak pahunch gayi. Tum khud kisi bhi musibat mai fas sakti thi.. Agar us Rohit ne kuch kar diya hota toh tumhare saath phir kya karti.. Yeh mazaak hai kya? Agar Akshika aur Khushi ke record pe kuch lag jaata toh? Zindagi bhar ka daag lagta samajhti ho tum? Tumhe kuch ho jaata.. Wo ladka apni hadd paar kar deta toh? Tab bhi tum apne according situation handle kar leti answer me.. ”

Vanshu’s tears spilled freely now, her legs trembling under the sting of each blow. She clutched the hem of her skirt tight, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out too loud.

From the corner, Khushi’s fists balled, anger and helplessness twisting in her chest.

Khushi (internally, glaring at Bela):

“Ma’am sahi keh rahi h… par Vanshu ko aise dekh bhi nahi sakti. Sab meri wajah se shuru hua… sab mera fault hai… mujhe apna gussa control karna chahiye tha.. Agar maine apne aap ko control kiya hota.. Akshu ko bhi samjhaya hota toh yeh sab hota hi nhi..How could I lose my patience like this.. Vanshu se zyada punishment toh mai deserve karti hoon.”

Akshu, still holding her ears in the corner, felt her stomach churn at Bela’s words.

Akshu (internally, guilty):

“Ma’am sahi keh rahi hai… agar Vanshu pehle din hi bolti toh hum yeh hadd tak kabhi nahi jaate. Lekin… maine bhi toh hadd paar kar di apne gusse mai.. Jaise koi bhooth sawar ho gaya hoon.. Us waqt bas vanshu ke alawa kuch dikha hi nhi.. Koi usey pareshaan kare.. Yeh bardasht hi nhi hua…”

Bela delivered one last sharp hit and then lowered the stick, her breathing heavy, her glare unwavering.

Bela (cold, commanding):

“Go. Corner mein jao. Hold your ears. Aur wahin khade rehna… jab tak main na kahoon.”

Vanshu, sobbing, nodded quickly and stumbled to the far wall, raising her arms to hold her ears, her face burning with shame.

Bela set the stick down on the desk with a sharp thak — the sound echoing like a final judgment. Without even glancing at Khushi, she turned away, her posture rigid, her silence heavier than any scolding.

Akshu and Vanshu, red-faced and sniffling in their corners, exchanged a quick glance, equally stunned. Bela’s eyes didn’t even flicker toward Khushi, as if she wasn’t worth the effort.

Khushi froze where she stood, her breath caught in her throat. Her mind raced, heart hammering faster than it ever had when facing Bela’s anger.

Khushi (internally, panicked):

“Yeh… yeh kya ho gaya? Mujhe toh laga tha ma’am ka gussa sabse zyada mujhe hi face karna padega… kyunki maine unki baat nhi suni. Toh phir… yeh? Ek shabd tak nahi kaha unhone mujhe? Na dekha, na daanta… bas ignore kar diya. Kya iska matlab hai… ki ma’am mujhse… disappoint ho gayi hain?”

Her throat tightened. Disappointment — that word felt sharper than any stick could ever be.

Khushi (bitter whisper under her breath):

“Maar leti, daant leti… par yun ignore kyu kar diya ma’am… Yeh toh aur bhi bardaasht ke bahar hai.”

She clenched her fists by her sides, torn between relief that she had been spared and dread that Bela’s silence was far more dangerous than her wrath.

Meanwhile, Bela stood with her back to them, her jaw stiff, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. Her silence wasn’t mercy — it was deliberate.

The trio gulped nervously, realizing: sometimes Bela’s quiet could cut deeper than her words. She didn’t spare even a glance. She simply walked to her desk, pulled the chair back, and sat down with a cold, practiced composure. A pile of case files lay waiting, and she opened one, her pen scratching across the paper like nothing had happened in the last few minutes.

The air in the room grew heavier.

Khushi’s eyes stung as she watched. A lump formed in her throat, sharper than any harsh word.

Khushi (whispering to herself, voice trembling):

“Kaise… kaise bas aise ignore kar diya? Mujhe toh laga ma’am mujhe maarengi, daantengi… par yeh toh aur bhi zyada dard de raha hai. Main unki aankhon mein gussa dekh leti toh bhi theek tha… par yeh khamoshi? Yeh toh jaise keh rahi ho ki ma’am ko mujhse koi umeed hi nahi rahi.”

Her chest tightened, a suffocating guilt curling in her stomach.

Meanwhile, in the corners, Akshu and Vanshu shifted uncomfortably, still holding their ears. Their eyes met across the room, and without speaking, their thoughts flowed like silent questions.

Akshu’s eyes (pleading, confused):

“Yeh kya ho raha hai? Ma’am ne Khushi ko kuch kaha hi nahi?”

Vanshu’s brows furrowing, silently replying:

“Haan… ma’am usse ignore kar rahi hain. Lekin kyun? Aisa toh kabhi hua nahi.”

Akshu’s glance, uneasy:

“Ma’am thik toh hain na? Itni khamoshi… ajeeb lag rahi hai.”

Vanshu blinked back, almost gulping, her eyes saying what neither dared to voice aloud:

“Khamoshi hi sabse bada punishment hai, Akshu…”

On the desk, Bela’s pen moved steadily, but her heart was far from calm. Her mind spoke a truth she wasn’t willing to utter aloud — “Jab tum apni galti maan hi nahi leti… kya faayda samjhaane ka? Na daant, na sazaa tab tak asar karegi jab tak wo khud realise na kare. Ab use khud samajhna hoga.”

The three girls stood In the tense silence, realising for the first time — Bela’s silence was more terrifying than her scolding.

--

MOMENTS LATER -

The clock ticked, painfully loud in the stillness. Ten minutes… twenty… and now almost half an hour had passed. Yet Bela hadn’t moved an inch. Her posture was steady, her pen gliding across files with a terrifying calm.

Every passing second weighed down on Khushi’s chest like a stone. What had started as nervousness was now pure dread. She could feel her palms turning clammy, her throat tightening.

Khushi (mind racing, muttering under her breath):

“Isse accha toh ma’am ne maar liya hota… kam se kam woh gussa seh leti main… par yeh chuppi? Yeh toh bardasht hi nhi ho rahi hai mujhe…”

Her eyes began to blur with unshed tears as her mind replayed the day’s incidents like sharp flashes.

Her stubborn refusal in the principal’s office.

Her blatant “no” to Bela when asked to apologise to Radhika.

Her own voice echoing with a curse word in front of her…

The violent image of Rohit being beaten to pulp with her hands.

She flinched at the memory, shame prickling at her skin.

Khushi (voice breaking, whispering to herself):

“Haan… shayad ma’am ko sabse zyada dukh maine hi diya. Mere disobedience ne… meri badtameezi ne… unhe hurt kiya. Maine Radhika ma’am pe chillaaya… unhi ke saamne besharam ban gayi… curse word bol diya… limits hi bhool gayi. Khushi… kya ho gaya tujhe?”

Her gaze fell on Bela — that calm, unreadable face that refused even to acknowledge her existence right now. That hurt more than any scolding or strike of a stick.

Khushi (tears rolling down now, barely audible):

“Ab toh ma’am se nazrein milana bhi mushkil ho jayega… pehle hi din is ghar mai aake socha tha… ki humari wajah se kabhi unhe hurt na ho. Aur aaj… wahi kar diya.”

Her knees buckled slightly, but she held herself up, her hands clutching her ears tighter.

Khushi (resolutely whispering, a vow to herself):

“Par maafi toh maangni padegi… galti hui hai… bahut badi galti. Aur maafi ke bina… main khud ko maaf nahi kar paungi.”

The silence still stretched, merciless and suffocating, pressing down harder with every breath she took.

Not able to take it anymore, Khushi’s feet moved on their own, shaky and unsure, but determined. Every step to the center of the room felt like walking on thorns. Her head was still bowed, ears still clutched tightly, but her trembling eyes — wet and red — told the story her lips couldn’t yet form.

She stopped right in the center, her small frame almost curling inwards as if to shield herself from the weight of Bela’s silence. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have the courage to. But her posture, her quivering breaths, her entire being screamed the same silent plea —

“Ma’am, I have realised my mistake. Please… punish me. However you want. But don’t… don’t ignore me.”

The room, already heavy, grew stiller. Akshu and Vanshu glanced at each other, their punishments momentarily forgotten, their own pain taking a backseat. They could feel Khushi’s guilt — raw, desperate, suffocating. For the first time since they entered the study, both their eyes softened, silently wishing Bela would just… say something.

Bela, seated at the desk, finally lifted her gaze. Her eyes met Khushi’s bowed head first, then slowly took in the trembling figure in front of her. She had been waiting for this moment — for Khushi to come to her, not with defiance, not with arguments, but with surrender. And now that it had happened, the sternness in her chest wrestled with the ache in her heart.

For a beat, Bela said nothing. She simply looked at Khushi, her silence still deliberate, but now laced with something deeper. The trio could feel it — the silence had shifted. It wasn’t the cold, punishing silence from earlier. It was the silence before a storm of truth.

Bela’s hand, resting on the desk, twitched once. She knew. Now was the time.

She finally rose from her chair, the scrape of wood against the floor making Khushi flinch. Her measured footsteps closed the distance slowly but surely, until she stood right in front of the trembling girl in the center of the room.

Khushi felt the shift in air, her breath hitching. She didn’t dare lift her eyes. Her voice cracked as she forced the words out, her throat tight with tears:

Khushi (broken, stammering):

“Sorry… so–sorry ma’am… Mujhe apni galti samajh aa gayi hai… maine Radhika ma’am se jis tarah baat ki… wo galat tha. Mujhe apne shabdon pe control rakhna chahiye tha… Maar-peet nahi karni chahiye thi… mai beh gayi thi gusse mein… samajh hi nahi payi sahi kya hai aur kya galat…”

Her knees trembled, the weight of her own words crashing down. She choked, a whisper escaping like a last plea:

Khushi (almost whispering):

“Please… jo saza deni hai de dijiye… par aise ignore mat kijiye…”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty anymore — it was thick, alive. Akshu and Vanshu, still in their corners, felt their own hearts clench. For the first time since the study room scene began, Khushi’s fire had turned into raw vulnerability.

Bela stood tall, her expression unreadable — no warmth, no anger, only a chilling stillness that made the room feel heavier. She finally broke the silence, her voice flat but cutting like glass:

Bela (cold, deliberate):

“Agar Radhika ma’am ki jagah maine wo sab kiya hota… tab bhi tum aise hi behave karti? Tell me.”

The words dropped like a hammer.

Khushi’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart lurched painfully, as though Bela had torn open the truth she herself hadn’t dared to face. This wasn’t just a question — it was the question.

Her lips parted, but nothing came out. No defiance, no excuse, not even an apology. Just silence. Her throat burned, her eyes stung, her mind screamed for an answer… but there was none that could justify her actions in front of Bela.

She lowered her head further, shame washing over her in waves. That one line pierced deeper than any scolding, any punishment, any stick.

Akshu and Vanshu froze in their corners, exchanging a terrified glance. Even they understood — Bela’s one question was far more brutal than the blows they had received.

The room stayed still, except for Khushi’s trembling hands, her silence itself becoming her confession.

***

Khushi’s POV -

The words still rang in Khushi’s ears like a slap:

“Agar Radhika ma’am ki jagah maine wo sab kiya hota tab bhi tum aise hi behave karti… Tell me!”

Her heart sank, deeper than it ever had before. She couldn’t lift her head, couldn’t even breathe properly.

“Nahi… kabhi nahi. Aapke saamne main aisa soch bhi nahi sakti thi, ma’am. Lekin aapne yeh sawal poochh kar… mujhe meri sabse badi galti dikhayi h. Aapko hi hurt kar diya maine. Jo insaan mere liye sabse zyada important h, unhi ke saamne badtameezi kar gayi… kya kehne layak bachi main?”

Her hands clutched tighter to her ears, her whole body trembling. Tears she’d been holding back finally spilled, tracing down her cheeks.

“Ma’am… aapne ek shabd bolke hi mujhe wo sab ehsaas kara diya jo mai ab tak samajh nhi pa rahi thi. Maar leti toh kam dard hota. Aapke saamne apni izzat khona… apni nazron mein girna… yeh sabse badi saza hai.”

Khushi’s voice cracked inside her mind, but not a word left her lips. She stood there, punished more by Bela’s silence and that single question than by any physical hit.

She wanted to scream, to beg, to say “nahi ma’am, aap agar unki jagah hoti toh main kabhi aisa nahi karti!” But her throat locked — because she had no right to defend herself now.

And so she stayed there, guilty, broken, waiting for whatever judgment Bela decided next.

***

Khushi stands frozen, her eyes lowered, lips trembling. Her apology has just left her mouth.

Khushi (voice breaking): “Sorry ma’am… mujhe samajh aa gayi h apni galti.. Aur aapki har saza manzoor hai mujhe.”

Bela’s jaw clenches. Her face hardens into stone, eyes sharp with a mixture of hurt and rage. Without another word, she turns, picks up the stick from the table, and walks back slowly — every step echoing with authority.

And then — THWACK!

The first strike lands on Khushi’s palm.

The second follows, harder.

Bela (through gritted teeth, striking twice):

“Tumne jo kiya hai… wo badtameezi hai, Khushi. Aur yeh baat tumhe zindagi bhar yaad rehni chahiye!”

Another two strikes land, sharp and punishing. Khushi winces but doesn’t move, tears brimming.

Bela (furious, another two hits):

“Teacher ki galti ho ya na ho… unhone sahi kaha ho ya galat… uska faisla tumhara kaam nahi hai!”

She hits again, anger searing through her discipline.

Bela (angrily, with each word cutting deep):

“Tumhe aake mujhe bolna chahiye tha! Agar koi baat tumhare bardasht ke bahar ho rahi thi, ya tumhe lag raha tha tha ki tumhare saath kuch galat ho raha hai— toh mujhe kehna tha!”

She strikes again, this time with even more force. Khushi gasps but stays put, head still bowed.

Bela (voice rising, eyes blazing, another two strikes):

“Par tumne kya kiya? Tumne jis tarah unse baat ki na… wo main bardasht nahi karungi!”

Her tone shakes the room. She points the stick at Khushi.

Bela (commanding):

“Abhi ke abhi… mujhe ek apology letter likh ke dogi. Varna tumhara yeh bhooth utaarna… mujhe bohot achhe se aata hai!”

Another hit. And another. Her words are coming like fire now.

Bela (furious, disappointed, raining the last two strikes):

“Tumne agar mujhe yeh sab pehle bata diya hota na… toh main apne tareeke se situation handle karti.

Par nahi… main busy kya ho gayi ek hafte ke liye… tum teeno pagal ho gaye the kya?

Bas sehna hai… kuch bolna nahi hai!”

Her final strikes land heavy, echoing her disappointment more than her anger. Khushi is in tears, chest heaving, but she doesn’t utter a word.

Bela takes a step back, breathing hard. Her eyes soften for a flicker of a second — but her voice stays sharp, cold.

Bela (last lash of words, quieter but piercing):

“Apne liye stand lena galat nahi hai, Khushi… par uska ek saleeka hota hai. Samjhi tum?”

The room hangs heavy with silence, broken only by the sharp swish of Bela’s stick landing again and again. Khushi’s sobs are muffled, her hands and legs red, her body trembling, but Bela’s rage hasn’t cooled.

Bela (furious, eyes blazing, two harsh strikes):

“Aur kya kaha tha tumne thane mein, Khushi? Rohit ko khol ke rakh dogi? Haan? Yeh hai tumhari language?

Kya fark reh gaya phir tum mein… aur usmein, Haan? Gundo wali bhasha use karti ho Sharam nhi aayi.”

The sting of the stick makes Khushi flinch, a pained cry escaping her lips.

Bela whirls, her eyes narrowing on Akshu, who is already pale and stiff.

Bela (thundering):

“Aur tum! Jail jaane ka bada mann hai kya? Murder karna hai?”

Akshu (gulps hard, stammering, almost crying):

“N–nahi ma’am! Bilkul nahi! Sorry… wo galti se nikal gaya tha… Gusse mai… please sorry!”

Bela’s glare slices through her. For a moment, Akshu feels her knees go weak. Bela doesn’t say a word more to her — the glare itself is punishment enough.

Turning back, Bela raises the stick high, striking Khushi once more — the sound louder, the pain sharper.

Bela (icy, voice low but deadly clear):

“Ainda… agar kisi bhi bade ke saath badtameezi ki na tumne… toh bhool jaana… ki main tumhari ma’am hoon.”

The words land harder than the stick.

Khushi’s head snaps up, eyes wide, her tears flooding faster now. She shakes her head violently, panicked.

Khushi (pleading, breaking down):

“No ma’am! Please aisa mat boliye… aisa mat boliye! Main nahi karungi… main dobara aisa nahi karungi… please!”

Her voice cracks, but Bela doesn’t soften. Instead, with one final surge of fury, she strikes again — harder than before.

Khushi (screams in pain):

“Ahhh!”

And then — silence.

Bela freezes for a second, chest heaving, the stick still trembling in her grip. With a sharp motion, she throws it aside. The clatter echoes against the walls.

Without sparing another glance, Bela storms out of the room — her footsteps cold, decisive, leaving behind three trembling sisters drowned in fear and guilt.

To be continued…

----