So let’s begin,

INSIDE – STAFF ROOM (CONTINUATION)

Khushi kept her head bent over the notebook, pretending to read.

But her mind wasn’t on geometry anymore.

It was stuck on that one sentence.

“Ek din Akshika aur Vanshika bhi apne life mai busy ho jayenge.. Yaad rakhna – Koi humesha saath nhi rehta.”

Her fingers curled around the pen again—this time not in anger, but in fear.

Busy ho jayenge…

Matlab chod denge?

Bhool jayenge?

She hated herself for even letting the thought exist.

Radhika Ma’am flipped a page in her register, the sound sharp in the silence.

Radhika (neutral, almost satisfied):

“Ab is theorem ko samjho. Agar dhyaan dogi toh mushkil nahi lagega.”

Khushi nodded mechanically.

“Ji, ma’am.”

She leaned closer to the notebook, but the letters blurred.

Her throat felt tight—like something was lodged there, refusing to move.

She reminded herself sharply—

Khushi, control.

Yahin reaction diya toh phir se wahi galti hogi.

Bela’s face flashed in her mind.

Not angry.

Not shouting.

Just… disappointed.

That alone was enough to keep her quiet.

Radhika continued explaining, pointing at the diagram with her pen.

Radhika:

“Dekho, jab do lines intersect karti hain—”

Khushi’s mind drifted again, uninvited.

Intersect… jaise log zindagi mai aate hain…

phir alag ho jaate hain…

Her grip on the pen loosened.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to write.

One line.

Two lines.

The handwriting looked neat, obedient—

But her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Radhika Ma’am’s voice faded into background noise, like a radio playing in another room.

Her thoughts kept circling back.

Sach mai?

Ek din… mai akeli reh jaungi?

Her chest felt oddly hollow.

She pressed the pen a little harder against the page, grounding herself in the scratch of ink.

Focus, Khushi.

Maths hai. Sirf Maths.

But then—

The image of Akshu laughing loudly.

Vanshu rolling her eyes and teasing.

The three of them cramped on one bed, fighting over blankets.

Her throat tightened again.

She blinked fast, refusing to let anything spill.

At the same time—

INSIDE – CLASS 9B

Akshu sat straight at her desk, shoulders squared, posture perfect.

From the outside—

She looked fine.

From the inside—

Everything felt wrong.

A dull, persistent ache throbbed at her temples, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Her head felt heavy, like it was packed with cotton. Even her eyes burned slightly, vision blurring for half a second every now and then.

The cold from earlier still clung to her bones.

She clenched her jaw.

Not now.

Class ke beech mai nahi.

The teacher’s voice droned on about the lesson, chalk tapping against the board.

Akshu wrote.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Each letter took more effort than it should’ve.

She refused to lean back.

Refused to rest her head on her hand.

Weakness had never been her habit.

Beside her, Vanshu was fully engaged—pen flying across the page, brows furrowed in concentration. She paused mid-sentence though, sensing something off.

She glanced sideways.

Akshu’s face looked paler than usual.

Her lips were pressed too tightly together.

Her eyes—focused, but strained.

Vanshu didn’t speak.

She just tilted her head slightly, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

Theek hai?

Akshu caught it.

For a split second, her vision swam.

She blinked once.

Then twice.

And nodded.

A small nod.

Controlled.

Convincing enough.

Haan. I’m fine.

Vanshu hesitated, studying her for another moment, then slowly returned to her notebook—though her writing wasn’t as fast anymore.

Akshu exhaled quietly.

She forced her attention back to the board, fingers tightening around the pen as another wave of heaviness rolled through her.

Somewhere else in the school—

Khushi sat drowning in thoughts she didn’t know how to voice.

Here—

Akshu sat drowning in pain she refused to show.

And neither of them knew—

That the other was struggling just as much.

AFTERNOON – SCHOOL HOURS WINDING DOWN

By the time the last bell rang, Akshu’s body had officially started giving up on her.

Her head throbbed relentlessly now.

Not the “thoda sa headache” kind—

The “every sound hurts, every light stings” kind.

But she still didn’t say a word.

She packed her bag slowly, movements careful, controlled. No dramatics. No complaints. Just… quiet.

For anyone else, it might’ve looked normal.

But for someone who knew Akshu—

Someone who had grown up watching her—

It was obvious.

Her laughter was missing.

Her usual sarcastic remarks? Gone.

Her restless energy? Replaced by stillness.

Vanshu noticed first.

She glanced at Akshu’s face as they walked out of the class—

The faint sheen of sweat on her forehead despite the cold weather,

The way her eyes looked dull, unfocused.

She wanted to ask.

She almost did.

But Akshu adjusted her bag strap, straightened her shoulders, and walked on.

Silent answer: I’m fine.

So Vanshu stayed quiet too.

ON THE WAY HOME

The trio walked together, just like always.

But today—

No arguments.

No jokes.

No complaints about homework.

No commentary on teachers.

Just footsteps.

Khushi walked a little behind them, her mind still trapped in the staff room.

Radhika Ma’am’s words replayed on loop.

“Yaad rakhna –– Koi humesha saath nhi rehta.”

She clenched her fingers around her bag strap.

Her chest felt tight—not angry now, but afraid.

She looked at Akshu walking ahead.

The same Akshu who always stood in front.

The same Akshu who never let anyone mess with her people.

The same Akshu who looked strong even when she wasn’t.

Bhool jayenge…

Sach mai?

Her eyes stung, but she blinked it away.

She wouldn’t cry.

Not here.

Not now.

REACHING HOME – SEHGAL HOUSE

The gate closed behind them with a soft click.

Normally, this would be the moment—

“Yaar bhookh lagi h zor ki.. ”

“Aaj khane mai kya hoga?”

“Pehle bathroom mai jaungi.. ”

But today?

Silence.

Akshu slipped her shoes off slowly and walked straight inside, not even glancing toward the living room.

Vanshu watched her go, worry tightening in her chest.

Khushi stood there for a second longer, heart heavy with everything she hadn’t said.

Three girls.

Three different storms.

Akshu—

Quietly burning with fever, refusing to admit it.

Khushi—

Crushed under thoughts she didn’t know how to fight.

Vanshu—

Standing in the middle, feeling that something was wrong…

But not yet knowing how wrong.

SEHGAL HOUSE – DINING AREA | LUNCH TIME

Half an hour later, the house slowly filled with movement again.

The elder trio came downstairs quietly, freshen up in their pajamas and hoodies, expressions unusually muted. No pushing, no banter, no complaints about assignments or projects.

They took their seats at the dining table almost mechanically.

On one side of the table—

Team Aashvi.

Vanu, Kiku, and Aashi were huddled together, eyes shining, hands moving animatedly as they talked over each other, excitement bubbling over about junior sports day.

On the other side—

Khushi.

Akshu.

Vanshu.

Physically present.

Mentally… elsewhere.

Plates were served. Spoons clinked softly.

Akshu’s POV

Nothing happened. Kuch bhi nahi hua h.

Bas halka sa sar dard h.

Bilkul theek hoon main.

She lifted her spoon, even managed two bites.

Her head throbbed again—sharp, pulsing behind her temples.

She clenched her jaw slightly.

Control, Akshu.

Ma’am ko pata nahi chalna chahiye.

Bilkul bhi nahi.

She straightened her posture, forcing normalcy into her body language, even as her hands felt heavier than usual.

Vanshu’s POV

Vanshu didn’t miss a thing.

Akshu’s silence.

Her slowed movements.

The way she wasn’t teasing anyone—not even by habit.

Iski tabiyat theek nahi h, she thought immediately.

Par zidd… wo toh Everest se bhi zyada unchi h.

Her gaze shifted subtly to Khushi.

Khushi sat staring at her plate, poking at the food without really eating it.

No scolding.

No sarcastic remarks.

No dramatic reactions.

Aur yeh… Vanshu frowned inwardly.

Yeh toh extra class se aane ke baad se hi aisi h.

Her mind raced.

Radhika ma’am ne kuch bola kya?

Ya phir subah ke kitchen wale kaand ke guilt mai abhi tak doobi hui h? Ya phir kuch aisa hua h jo yeh bata nhi rahi h..

Something felt off. Very off.

Khushi’s POV

Pagal ladki… Gadhi.. Idiot.. bas kar sochna.

She forced herself to take a bite, chewing without tasting anything.

Radhika ma’am humesha aisa hi karti h tujhe pata h na.

Trigger karne ke liye kuch bhi bol deti h.

She swallowed.

Itna sochne ki zaroorat nahi h.

Tum apne Akshu aur Vanshu pe shaq kaise kar sakti ho? Yeh thought aa bhi kaise gaya tere dimaag mai?

Her chest tightened slightly.

Haan, aage life busy ho sakti h sabki.

Meri bhi hogi.

Sabke apne dreams h, goals h…

She nodded faintly to herself.

Par bhool jaana?

Nahi.

Aisa kabhi nahi ho sakta.

Itna aasan thodi hota h bhoolna

And yet—

Uninvited, unwanted—

Radhika’s words echoed again.

“Yaad rakhna –– koi humesha Saath nhi rehta h.. Bela bhi nhi rahegi.”

Her logic faltered.

Her spoon paused mid-air.

She lowered it slowly, appetite disappearing altogether.

Across the table, Bela sat eating calmly, her movements practiced and composed.

She smiled automatically when the juniors spoke—but her eyes?

They drifted.

Once.

Twice.

And then stayed—

On the elder trio.

Something about their silence didn’t sit right with her.

Aashi, oblivious to everything, bounced in her seat.

Aashi (excited):

“Mumma, main na race mein 1st aaungi dekha! Racing mein Aashi ko koi nahi hara sakta!”

Bela smiled, indulgent.

Bela:

“Haan beta, jo mann ho wo karna. Pehle khana finish karo jaldi se.”

Vanu leaned forward eagerly.

Vanu:

“Mumma, main na Vanshu didi se sundar-sundar drawing seekhungi aur drawing competition mein 1st aaungi… unki tarah!”

Kiku clapped softly.

Kiku:

“Mumma, main bhi Aashi ke saath race mein part lungi… aur hum dono best first aayenge!”

Bela (smiling warmly):

“Zaroor aayoge.”

Her smile lingered—

But her gaze flickered back to Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu.

They hadn’t reacted. Not even smiled.

Vanu puffed her cheeks dramatically.

Vanu (pouting):

“Nahi! Phir main bhi race mai part lungi. Tum dono jahan, main bhi wahin. Hum teeno jeetenge!”

Aashi burst into laughter.

Aashi:

“Phir toh hum pakka haar jayenge! Tu ekdum mumma ke story wali tortoise ki tarah bhaagti h!”

Vanu (offended):

“Tu chup kar! Vanu rabbit h, tortoise nahi!”

She turned instantly toward Bela.

Vanu:

“Mummaaa dekho na, Aashi mujhe chidha rahi h! Aashi chup ho jaa warna papa se complain kar dungi.. ”

The table echoed with childish laughter.

But Bela didn’t laugh this time.

Her spoon paused mid-air.

Her eyes were fixed—steady, observant—

On the elder trio.

On Akshu forcing normalcy through pain.

On Khushi drowning in thoughts she wasn’t sharing.

On Vanshu watching both, helplessly calculating how long before something broke.

Bela’s jaw tightened—just a fraction.

Something’s wrong, she realized quietly.

And this time—

It wasn’t mischief.

It wasn’t rebellion.

It was something deeper.

Something heavier.

And she was already preparing herself to uncover it.

UPSTAIRS – TEAM UNSTOPPABLE’S ROOM | AFTER LUNCH

The door closed behind them with a soft click.

The room, usually echoing with laughter and chaos, felt unusually heavy today.

Akshu walked in first, and without a word opened her laptop on the bed. The familiar glow of the screen lit up her tired face. Trembling body. Slightly flushed cheeks. Slower movements than usual.

Khushi sat on her bed, absent-mindedly arranging her books, her mind still tangled in Radhika Ma’am’s words.

Vanshu, however, had had enough.

She stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, eyes darting between the two of them.

Vanshu (irritated, finally snapping):

“Bas. Bohot ho gaya tum dono ka.”

Both Akshu and Khushi looked up.

Vanshu:

“School se dekh rahi hoon main. Ajeeb si shaanti macha rakhi h tum dono ne. Na kuch bol rahe ho.. Na ladai, na drama—jo sabse zyada dangerous hota h. Kya hua h dono ko ab bologe?”

Her gaze locked on Akshu.

Vanshu (pointing):

“Aur tum—tabiyat thik nahi h tumhari. Saaf shakal se dikh raha h.”

She stepped closer and instinctively reached out to touch Akshu’s forehead.

Akshu immediately pulled back, irritation flashing across her face.

Akshu (snapping):

“Arre thik hoon yaar! Kuch nahi hua h. Faltoo ke assumptions mat karo. Mai theek hoon.. Nhi bolne ka mann kuch, koi jabardasti h kya.”

She turned back to her laptop, fingers already moving toward the keyboard.

Khushi blinked.

For the first time since lunch, her thoughts snapped back to reality.

She looked at Akshu properly now.

The pale lips.

The dull eyes.

The stubborn set of her jaw.

Yeh sach mein theek nahi h, Khushi realized.

Vanshu let out a frustrated breath.

Vanshu:

“Yeh kya pagalpan h tumhara, Akshu? Dekhne bhi nahi de rahi ho! Pakka fever h tumhe. Aur phir bhi laptop khol ke edits pe baith gayi ho?”

She reached forward and closed the laptop lid in one sharp motion, grabbing it before Akshu could react.

Vanshu (firm):

“Bas. Rakho isse side mein. Aur so jao.”

That escalated things instantly.

Akshu looked up, eyes blazing despite her weakness.

Akshu:

“Vanshu! Laptop do mera.”

Khushi stood up now, stepping between them instinctively.

Khushi (gentler, but firm):

“Akshu, zidd mat karo. Wo sahi keh rahi h. Haalat dekho apni—aankhon se, shakal se, sabse pata chal raha h kitna tez bukhar h. Bahar thand mai khade rehne ki wajah se hawa lag gayi h tumhe aur uska effect h yeh fever.”

She softened her tone.

Khushi:

“Ma’am ko bhi samajh aa hi gaya hoga. Isse pehle wo aake apne tareeke se samjhayein, shaanti se so jao. Laptop de do.”

Akshu shook her head stubbornly.

Akshu:

“Tum dono samajh kyu nahi rahe ho? Kuch nahi hua h mujhe. Bilkul theek hoon main.”

She tried to snatch the laptop.

Akshu:

“Mera freelancing ka kaam h. Deadline h. Mujhe karne do.”

Her voice cracked slightly.

Akshu (almost pleading but still stubborn):

“Vanshu, laptop do. Ye mazaak nahi h. Ye meri jaan se bhi zyada pyaara h.”

Vanshu tightened her grip on it.

Vanshu (equally stubborn):

“Haan pata h mujhe. Laptop kitna keemti h tumhare liye.. Par abhi nhi.”

She climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged, keeping the laptop out of reach.

Vanshu:

“Par jab tak tum apni zidd nahi chhodogi, main laptop nahi dungi. Aur agar zyada drama kiya na—”

She lifted it slightly.

Vanshu (threatening):

“—toh main isse fek bhi sakti hoon.”

That broke whatever patience Akshu had left.

Her shoulders slumped.

Her head throbbed harder.

The room felt too loud. Too suffocating.

Akshu (voice rising, frustrated):

“Yaar tum dono ko samajh nahi aata kya jab main kuch bol rahi hoon?!”

She pushed herself off the bed, swaying slightly but catching her balance.

Akshu:

“Mujhe nahi karna rest. Laptop do mera.”

Her voice sharpened.

Akshu:

“Privacy naam ki koi cheez hoti h ya nahi? Har waqt peeche pade rehte ho—Akshu ye karlo, Akshu wo karlo.”

She laughed bitterly.

Akshu:

“Ma’am kam thi jo ab tum dono bhi shuru ho gaye ho.”

She turned away, voice breaking despite herself.

Akshu:

“Mujhe apne haal pe chhod do. Aur chale jao dono yahan se… please.”

Then—quietly, without meaning to—

Akshu:

“Mujhe akela chhod do.”

The room went still.

That line hit Khushi like a slap.

Her chest tightened.

The same words.

The same fear.

“Yaad rakhna –– Koi humesha saath nhi rehta.”

Her eyes shimmered, but she didn’t say anything.

Vanshu, however, wasn’t done.

She jumped down from the bed, still clutching the laptop.

Vanshu (angry, hurt, protective):

“Nahi jayenge.”

She stood her ground.

Vanshu:

“Yeh humara bhi kamra h. Aur laptop toh kisi haalat mein nahi dungi.”

She looked straight into Akshu’s eyes.

Vanshu:

“Bukhar badhega tumhara, sar aur phatega. Samajh kyu nahi aata h tumhe?”

Her voice softened just a little.

Vanshu:

“Hum tumhare dushman nahi h, Akshu. (to khushi) Aur khushi tum kya khadi ho bolo ise kuch dekho kaise zidd kar rahi h laptop ke liye.”

But Khushi couldn’t say anything or rather she didn’t know what to say or how to react when her own mind felt too occupied.

Akshu’s anger fizzled into exhaustion.

She sank back onto the bed, rubbing her temples, eyes burning—not with rage, but fatigue.

Khushi stepped closer quietly, sitting beside her.

For the first time since morning—

The room wasn’t loud.

Just heavy.

With worry.

With unspoken fear.

And with the realization that stubborn strength sometimes looked a lot like breaking.

Outside the room, Vanu was happily skipping down the corridor, swinging her legs and humming some random tune, Barbie doll dangling from her hand.

She slowed near the elder trio’s room.

Stopped.

Her smile faded.

Voices.

Raised voices.

Not the fun kind.

The bad kind.

She tilted her head, listening carefully. The tension inside was unmistakable.

Vanu frowned, turned on her heel, and ran straight to the kitchen where Bela stood with Shanti Didi, packing leftover sabzi into containers while giving quick instructions.

Vanu (slightly breathless):

“Mumma… mumma suno na…”

Bela looked up instantly, concern flickering across her face.

Bela:

“Haan beta? Kya hua? Kuch chahiye?”

Vanu:

“Nahi… upar didi log ke room se na… bohot awaaz aa rahi hai. Wo teeno fight kar rahe hain shayad. Aap jaldi chalo na…”

Bela froze.

“Fight?”

Her brows knitted.

Bela:

“Kya? Abhi toh sab shaant the…”

She straightened quickly.

Bela (decisive):

“Achha, tum jao Aashi aur Kiku ke paas. Main jaake dekhti hoon. Theek hai?”

Vanu nodded innocently and skipped away, clutching her Barbie.

Bela shook her head lightly, muttering under her breath as she sealed the container.

Bela:

“Yeh bacche bhi na… abhi neeche ekdum shaant the, aur upar jaate hi phir shuru…”

She turned to Shanti Didi.

Bela:

“Didi, aap thoda dhyaan rakhiyega. Main abhi aati hoon.”

Without waiting, she headed upstairs.

UPSTAIRS – TEAM UNSTOPPABLE’S ROOM

The door opened.

And Bela stopped short.

Vanshu stood near the bed, gripping Akshu’s laptop like it was contraband.

Akshu sat on the bed, visibly pale, irritated, eyes burning with stubborn defiance.

Khushi stood off to the side, tense, worried, silent.

The moment Bela entered—

Both Akshu and Vanshu went quiet.

Instantly.

Like someone had hit the mute button.

Bela’s gaze swept over the room.

Bela (sharp, controlled):

“Kya ho raha hai yahan?”

She looked from one to the other.

Bela:

“Abhi neeche toh teeno itne shaant the jaise kuch hua hi nahi… aur yahan aake lad rahe ho? Baat kya hai?”

Vanshu stepped forward first, still holding the laptop, voice firm but respectful.

Vanshu:

“Ma’am… yeh Akshu…”

She glanced at Akshu, then back at Bela.

Vanshu:

“Isko school se hi bohot tez bukhaar hai. Phir bhi laptop khol ke baithi thi edits karne ke liye.”

Akshu snapped immediately.

Akshu (defensive):

“Vanshu maine bola na kuch nahi hua hai! Ma’am yeh jhooth bol rahi hai.”

Vanshu clenched her jaw.

Vanshu:

“Wo toh abhi pata chal jaayega kaun sach bol raha hai aur kaun jhooth.”

Before things could escalate—

Bela lifted one finger.

Just one.

The room fell dead silent.

Bela (low, commanding):

“Bas. Chup.”

Her eyes fixed on Vanshu.

Bela:

“Vanshu, tum bolo.”

Vanshu shot Akshu a look that said ab dekh, then continued.

Vanshu:

“Ma’am, isko bohot high fever hai. Rest nahi kar rahi, dawai nahi le rahi. Sar ekdum phat raha hai, chakkar aa rahe hain.”

Her voice wavered with frustration.

Vanshu:

“Aur upar se laptop leke baith gayi thi bol rahi hai deadline hai. Fever check bhi nahi karne de rahi. Maine laptop liya toh ladne lagi.”

Akshu exploded.

Akshu (frustrated shout):

“Haan toh jab kuch hua hi nahi hai toh dawai kyu loon? Rest kyu karoon? Tum apne doctor waale assumptions mujhpe mat thopo!”

She pointed accusingly.

Akshu:

“Main ekdum fit hoon! Tumhe bas aadat hai ma’am se chugli karne ki. Ab dekho—complaint kar rahi ho!”

Vanshu shot back just as fast.

Vanshu:

“Haan, kar rahi hoon complaint! Kyunki tum kisi ki baat sunti hi nahi ho! Bas apni chalani hoti hai!”

Akshu opened her mouth to retort—

But Bela’s voice sliced through the air.

Bela (stern, final):

“Akshika. Quiet.”

Akshu froze.

Her mouth shut mid-word.

The room held its breath.

Bela stepped closer and reached out to check Akshu’s temperature with the back of her palm.

Akshu, still stubborn, tried to pull back.

Her biggest mistake.

Bela’s glare snapped up.

Akshu froze instantly.

Bela’s palm rested on Akshu’s forehead for a second.

Two.

Three.

Her expression hardened.

Bela:

“Akal hai tum mein ya bilkul dimaag kharab ho gaya hai?”

Her voice rose, sharp with worry and anger.

Bela:

“Jal rahi ho bukhaar se! Aur phir bhi zidd? Itni zidd bhi achhi nahi hoti!”

She exhaled sharply.

Bela:

“Abhi do thappad nahi lage na tumhe, warna bukhaar ke saath hosh bhi thikane aa jaata.”

Inside Akshu’s head, panic screamed.

Bach gayi… warna abhi thappad padta toh seedha gir jaati mai.

Outside—

Akshu (low, stubborn mumble):

“Main theek hoon… kuch nahi—”

She didn’t get to finish.

Bela grabbed her ear firmly—classic mother mode activated.

Teacher mode? Temporarily buried.

Bela:

“Kya kaha tumne? Zara phir se bolna.”

Akshu:

“Aahh—! Nahi nahi kuch nahi! Maine kuch nahi bola!”

Her voice softened immediately.

Akshu:

“Mujhe bas rest karne ka mann nahi tha… please chhod dijiye…”

Bela released her ear, shooting her a warning glare.

Vanshu, internally: Sahi hua. Ekdum sahi.

She smirked slightly.

Akshu rubbed her ear, glaring back at Vanshu.

Akshu (muttering):

“Tumhe toh baad mein dekhungi…”

Bela’s gaze snapped to Vanshu.

Bela:

“Vanshu. Fridge se ek bowl mein ice aur thanda paani lao. Jaldi.”

Then to Khushi—

Bela:

“Khushi, neeche left drawer mein medicines ka box hai. Dawaai leke aao. Aur kettle se thoda garam paani bhi.”

Khushi snapped out of her frozen state.

Khushi:

“Ji ma’am.”

She ran out immediately.

Akshu tried again, weakly.

Akshu:

“Ma’am main—”

Bela (cutting her off):

“Chup. Udhar baitho shaanti se.”

She turned to Vanshu.

Bela:

“Laptop mere room mein rakh do. Jab tak bukhaar nahi jaata, isko laptop nahi milega.”

Vanshu nodded without hesitation.

Vanshu:

“Ji ma’am.”

Akshu panicked.

Akshu:

“Ma’am yeh galat hai! Aap mera laptop nahi le sakti! Mujhe chahiye wo—”

Bela sighed once.

Then calmly walked to the cupboard.

Pulled out—

The stick.

Akshu’s eyes widened in pure terror.

She immediately dove onto the bed, yanking the blanket over herself like a shield.

Bela (tapping the stick lightly on her palm):

“Kuch keh rahi thi tum?”

From under the blanket—

Akshu:

“Nahi nahi! Kuch bhi nahi! Main toh bilkul chup hoon!”

She peeked out nervously.

Akshu:

“Aapne bola baithne ko, toh main seedha let hi gayi…”

Bela raised an eyebrow.

Then, curtly—

Bela:

“Good.”

The stick went back to Bela’s side.

The room finally fell quiet.

This time—

Not because of fear.

But because Akshu’s stubborn strength had finally met its match.

AFTER FEW MOMENTS ––

The room settled into a heavy, uneasy silence.

Akshu lay under the blanket, completely still now—only the slight rise and fall of the quilt giving away that she was awake. Her earlier fire had burned out, replaced by fatigue she could no longer hide. The fever weighed on her bones, making even blinking feel like work.

Bela stood near the bed, arms folded, watching her for a long second.

Not angry anymore.

Just worried.

Vanshu returned first, a steel bowl filled with ice and cold water in her hands. She placed it carefully on the side table, her movements quieter than usual.

Khushi came in right after, slightly breathless, holding the medicine strip and a glass of warm water. She stopped near the door, unsure, eyes flicking between Bela and Akshu.

Bela took the bowl from Vanshu and dipped a cloth into it, wringing it out with practiced hands.

Bela (firm, calm):

“Vanshu, pillow thoda upar karo. Khushi, light off kar do—sirf lamp rehne do.”

They obeyed instantly.

Bela sat on the edge of the bed and gently placed the cold cloth on Akshu’s forehead.

Akshu flinched instinctively.

Akshu (weak protest from under the blanket):

“Thand lag rahi hai…”

Bela didn’t remove the cloth.

Bela:

“Bukhaar mein thand hi lagegi. Seh lo.”

Her tone left no room for argument.

She glanced at Khushi.

Bela:

“Dawaai do.”

Khushi stepped forward, hesitating.

Khushi (softly):

“Akshu… uth ja thoda…”

Akshu slowly pulled the blanket down just enough to show her face. She looked drained—eyes dull, lips pale, the stubborn spark gone.

Khushi held the glass out.

Akshu eyed the medicine suspiciously.

Akshu:

“Zaroori hai?”

Bela didn’t even look at her.

Bela:

“Haan.”

One word.

Final.

Akshu sighed, sat up with effort, and swallowed the medicine, wincing at the taste. Khushi quickly offered the water.

Once she lay back down, Bela adjusted the blanket around her shoulders—not too tight, not too loose.

The touch was careful.

Protective.

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

Then—

Bela (quiet, controlled):

“School se fever tha, aur tumne kisi ko bataya nahi.”

Akshu stared at the ceiling.

Akshu (small voice):

“Mann nhi tha…”

Bela closed her eyes briefly, inhaling.

Bela:

“Tum padhai, kaam, deadlines, responsibility—sab samajhti ho. Achhi baat hai.”

(beat)

“Par apni body tod ke hero banna—yeh zimmedari nahi hoti. Aur na hi bravery… This will only make you weak.”

Akshu didn’t reply.

Her silence said enough.

Bela stood up and turned to Vanshu and Khushi.

Bela:

“Tum dono yahin raho. Agar temperature aur badhe ya chakkar aaye, mujhe turant bulaana.”

Vanshu nodded firmly.

Vanshu:

“Ji ma’am. Main yahin hoon.”

Khushi swallowed, then spoke hesitantly.

Khushi:

“Ma’am… sorry. Agar hum subah—”

Bela lifted a hand gently, stopping her.

Bela:

“Abhi nahi, Khushi.”

Her voice softened just a little.

Bela:

“Pehle isko theek hone do.”

She looked back at Akshu.

Bela:

“Rest lo. Aaj koi padhai, koi edit, koi laptop, koi kaam nahi.”

(pause)

“Yeh order hai.”

Akshu nodded faintly, eyes already closing.

Akshu (murmuring):

“Ji… ma’am…”

Bela watched her for a moment longer, ensuring the breathing steadied, the tension easing out of her face.

Then she turned to leave.

At the door, she stopped.

Didn’t turn back.

Just said—

Bela (quiet, tired, honest):

“Zidd strong hona achha hota hai, Akshika.”

(beat)

“Par zidd se zyada… health important hai.”

She stepped out.

The door closed softly behind her.

Inside the room, Vanshu sat on the edge of the bed, carefully replacing the cold cloth when it warmed.

Khushi stood near the bed, watching Askhu with concern.

OUTSIDE – CORRIDOR

Bela closed the door quietly behind her.

The click echoed louder than it should have.

She stood there for a second longer than necessary, hand still resting on the handle—as if letting go would mean accepting something she wasn’t ready to face yet.

Her shoulders finally dropped.

Just a little.

The stern teacher posture… slipped.

Bela leaned her forehead lightly against the cool wooden door and closed her eyes.

Itni thand… baarish…

Aur maine usse bahar khada rehne diya…

The image flashed in her mind without permission—

Akshu outside the class.

Hands shoved into blazer pockets.

Lips trembling.

Shifting weight from one foot to the other.

And she had seen it.

She had seen it… and still waited.

Bela exhaled shakily.

Bela (to herself, barely audible):

“Zyada ho gaya kya, Bela…?”

Her jaw tightened.

Discipline.

Rules.

Consequences.

She had believed in all of it with her whole spine straight.

But now—

That burning forehead under her palm replayed again.

Bukhaar itna tez… aur phir bhi zidd…

That thought hurt more than she expected.

Bela straightened slowly, guilt creeping in like cold through bones.

Bela (internal):

Punishment sudhaar ke liye hoti hai… todne ke liye nahi.

Aur agar meri wajah se—

She stopped herself.

No.

Guilt later.

Right now—responsibility.

She walked downstairs, steps quieter than usual, already planning—

Doctor ko call karna.

Temperature chart.

Soup.

Steam.

No school tomorrow—bilkul nahi.

For the first time that day, Bela wasn’t thinking like a teacher.

She was thinking like a guardian who might have pushed too hard.

INSIDE – ROOM

Akshu slept fitfully, brows drawn even in rest.

Vanshu sat on one side of the bed, knees tucked in, eyes fixed on Akshu’s face like a hawk. Every few seconds, she checked the cloth on her forehead, changing it the moment it lost its cool.

Khushi sat on the other side, back against the headboard, one hand lightly resting on Akshu’s arm—as if afraid she might drift away if she let go.

Neither spoke.

The room was dim, quiet, wrapped in that fragile silence that comes only when fear replaces noise.

Vanshu (soft whisper):

“Bukhaar kam hoga na…?”

Khushi nodded, though her own chest felt tight.

Khushi:

“Haan. Hoga.”

(beat)

“Ziddi hai… par strong bhi hai.”

Vanshu swallowed.

Vanshu:

“Par aaj… thodi zyada strong banne ki koshish kar rahi thi.”

Khushi’s grip tightened unconsciously.

She remembered Radhika’s words again.

Ek din tumhare saath koi nahi rahega…

Her eyes stung.

She leaned closer to Akshu, almost shielding her body with her own.

Khushi (very softly, almost a promise):

“Main hoon na.”

“Humesha.”

Akshu shifted slightly, murmuring something incoherent, fingers twitching.

Both of them froze.

Vanshu immediately leaned in.

Vanshu:

“Akshu…? Kya chahiye?”

Akshu didn’t open her eyes.

But her hand moved blindly—searching.

Khushi instantly caught it.

Akshu’s fingers curled weakly around hers.

That was all.

That was enough.

Vanshu felt her throat close.

She turned her face away quickly, blinking hard.

Vanshu (whispering, almost angry at the universe):

“Idiot… pehle bol deti na… hum sambhaal lete.”

Khushi didn’t reply.

She just sat there.

Holding on.

Like a shield.

Like an anchor.

Outside the room, Bela’s footsteps echoed faintly as she moved about the house—organising, planning, taking control the only way she knew how.

Here, right now—

Akshu wasn’t a student.

She wasn’t a rule-breaker.

She was just theirs.

DOWNSTAIRS – LIVING ROOM

Bela moved from one end of the room to the other, phone in one hand, thermometer and medicine strip in the other.

Her eyes kept flicking towards the staircase every few seconds.

Upar kaisi hogi ab…

Bukhaar kam ho raha hoga ya nahi…

Just then—

Her phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

She looked at the screen.

THANA

Her jaw tightened.

Bela picked up.

“Hmm.. Bolo.”

The voice on the other end was tense, clipped, urgent.

“Madam, ek emergency case aaya hai. Situation sensitive hai. Aapko turant thana aana padega.”

Bela closed her eyes for half a second.

Of all days.

Of all times.

Her gaze instinctively went upstairs again.

Bela (firm but conflicted):

“Main… aa rahi hoon.”

Call ended.

She stood still.

Duty vs heart.

Uniform vs guardian.

She lowered the phone slowly.

Urgent case.

Thana.

Abhi.

Her fingers curled around the device.

Her first thought—

Akshu.

Her gaze flicked upstairs again, heart tugging painfully.

Iss haal mein chhod ke jaana…

There was no real choice.

There never was.

Bela exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

She quickly dialled another number.

“Doctor Sharma? Haan, main Bela bol rahi hoon. Meri student—actually… ghar pe hi hai—high fever. Main thode der ke liye bahar jaa rahi hoon. Aap please on-call rehna. Agar temperature badhe toh main turant update karungi.”

She disconnected and straightened, already slipping back into her officer’s skin—even though the mother inside her protested loudly.

UPSTAIRS – ELDER TRIO’S ROOM

Akshu finally slept peacefully.

No restless tossing.

No muttering.

Just slow, even breaths.

The fever hadn’t vanished—but it had eased.

Vanshu sat back, letting out a long breath she felt she’d been holding for hours.

Vanshu (soft sigh):

“Finally…”

She looked at Akshu’s face once more, then turned towards Khushi.

Khushi hadn’t moved.

Still sitting in the same position.

Eyes unfocused.

Mind clearly elsewhere.

Vanshu studied her for a moment.

Too quiet.

Too still.

That wasn’t normal Khushi-quiet.

That was storm-inside quiet.

Vanshu gently touched her arm.

Khushi didn’t react.

Vanshu frowned.

She tilted her head towards the door, silently asking.

Bahaar aao?

Khushi blinked, registering her presence.

She followed Vanshu’s gaze, then nodded slowly.

Careful not to make a sound, Vanshu stood up first, adjusted the blanket around Akshu, and then motioned Khushi to follow.

They stepped out.

Closed the door softly behind them.

OUTSIDE – CORRIDOR

The corridor was dim, quiet.

Vanshu leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

She looked at Khushi—really looked at her.

Vanshu (gentle, direct):

“Ab bolo.”

Khushi stayed silent.

Her jaw tightened.

Vanshu:

“School se hi kuch off lag raha hai mujhe. Staff room se aane ke baad se aur zyada.”

(beat)

“Radhika ma’am ne kuch bola na?”

Khushi’s fingers curled into her sleeves.

She tried to brush it off.

Khushi (low):

“Aisa kuch nahi. Bas… Akshu ki tension h.”

Vanshu didn’t buy it.

She stepped closer.

Vanshu:

“Khushi. Akshu ki tension mujhe bhi h

Par yeh jo h na… different hai.”

Silence.

Before either of them could speak—

Fast footsteps.

Bela appeared, jacket already in hand, keys clutched tightly.

Her eyes immediately scanned their faces.

Bela (sharp, worried):

“Kya chal raha hai dono ka? Yahan bahar kya kar rahe ho?”

(beat)

“Akshu theek hai na?”

Vanshu answered instantly.

Vanshu:

“Haan ma’am… abhi so rahi hai. Bukhaar stable lag raha hai.”

Bela nodded once, relief flashing for a fraction of a second before being buried again.

Bela:

“Good.”

She didn’t waste another second.

Her tone turned brisk, commanding—but layered with concern.

Bela:

“Ab meri baat dhyaan se suno.”

“Ek urgent case aa gaya hai. Mujhe thana jaana padega. Abhi.”

“Mahir ji meeting mein hain—late ho jaayenge.”

Both girls stiffened slightly.

Bela (firm):

“Is beech ghar ki zimmedaari tum dono ki hai.”

“Bacchon ko sambhalna… aur Akshu ka dhyaan rakhna. Wo wapas koi bhi zidd kare toh mujhe call karna seedha.”

She looked at Vanshu first.

Bela:

“Bacchon ko shor mat karne dena. Ekdum.”

“Bohot mushkil se soyi hai wo—neend disturb nahi honi chahiye.”

Then Khushi.

Bela:

“Zyada shor machaye toh… meri taraf se full permission hai daantne ki.”

Khushi nodded quickly.

“Ji, ma’am.”

Bela:

“Khushi, Aashi ko sambhalna.”

“Vanshu, Vanu aur Kiku pe nazar rakhna.”

She paused, eyes narrowing slightly.

Bela (pointed):

“Aur kitchen mein mat jaana.”

“No more stunts. Samjhe?”

Both together, serious:

Vanshu & Khushi:

“Ji, ma’am.”

Bela exhaled slowly, voice lowering now.

Bela:

“Main jaldi wapas aane ki koshish karungi.”

“Par agar beech mein Akshu ki tabiyat zyada kharab ho—”

She raised the phone slightly.

“—toh turant call karna. Bina soche.”

Her gaze softened—just a little.

Bela:

“Aur tum dono bhi apna dhyaan rakhna.”

That was it.

No hugs.

No extra words.

She turned sharply, already switching into duty mode, grabbed her jacket properly, keys clinking as she moved.

Bela:

“Main nikalti hoon.”

Bela rushed downstairs in hurry,

The front door opened.

Cold air rushed in.

Then—

It shut.

Silence followed.

CORRIDOR – AFTER BELA LEAVES

Khushi and Vanshu stood there for a moment.

Processing.

Responsibility settling heavily on their shoulders.

Vanshu finally spoke, quieter than usual.

Vanshu:

“Ab samjha… ma’am itni strict kyu hai.”

Khushi nodded slowly.

Her eyes drifted back towards Akshu’s room.

Khushi (soft, more to herself):

“Sab kuch sambhalna… akele… roz.”

She took a deep breath.

Straightened.

Khushi:

“Chalo.”

“Bacchon ka bhi dhyaan rakhna hai… aur iska bhi.”

Vanshu nodded.

For once—

No arguments.

No jokes.

Just responsibility.

They walked back inside, quieter, steadier.

Because now—

Bela wasn’t there to hold the fort.

And they had to become it.

TEAM AASHVI’S ROOM

Khushi knocked softly first—more out of habit than necessity.

No response.

She exchanged a look with Vanshu.

Suspicious.

They pushed the door open slowly.

Inside—

Chaos. But the cute kind.

Aashi was sitting cross-legged on the bed, trying to force a tiny crown on Kiku’s head.

Kiku, clearly offended, was swatting her hands away while hugging her teddy like a shield.

Vanu sat on the floor, Barbie dolls neatly lined up, narrating an intense imaginary story in whispers.

For a second, Khushi and Vanshu just stood there.

Relief washed over them.

At least yahan shanti hai… abhi tak.

Aashi noticed them first.

Aashi (grinning):

“Didi loggg! Aap aa gaye? Akshu didi theek ho gayi?”

Khushi’s smile softened instantly.

She walked in and sat beside them on the bed.

Khushi:

“Haan Aashi, wo so rahi hai abhi. Isliye thoda shor kam rakhna, okay?”

Kiku nodded very seriously.

Kiku:

“Hum bilkul chup rahenge.”

(beat)

“Bas thoda sa bolenge.”

Vanshu chuckled despite herself.

She crouched near them.

Vanshu:

“Accha suno… ek important baat bolni hai.”

They looked up, alert.

Vanu:

“Kya hua?”

Khushi took a breath.

Khushi (calm but firm):

“Mumma ko ek urgent kaam ke liye thana jaana pada hai.”

“Isliye thodi der wo ghar pe nahi hongi.”

The room went quiet.

Aashi’s smile faded just a little.

Aashi:

“Toh mumma kab aayengi?”

Khushi gently brushed her hair back.

Khushi:

“Jaldi aane ki koshish karengi. Par tab tak…”

She looked at all three of them.

“…aap log bohot acche bachche banoge, hai na?”

Kiku immediately straightened.

Kiku:

“Bilkul. Hum badmashi nahi karenge.”

Vanu added proudly—

Vanu:

“Hum Akshu didi ko bhi disturb nahi karenge. Promise.”

That made Vanshu’s chest tighten slightly.

She nodded, voice softer now.

Vanshu:

“Good. Aur agar kuch chahiye ho—paani, snacks, kuch bhi—seedha humein bula lena.”

“Stairs pe bhaagna nahi. Shor nahi.”

Aashi saluted dramatically.

Aashi:

“Yes ma’am!”

Khushi laughed quietly, then turned serious again.

Khushi:

“Hum dono yahin paas mein hi hain. Darrne ki koi baat nahi.”

“Mumma aa jayengi.”

Aashi nodded, reassured… mostly.

Khushi stood up, giving the room one last scan—

No open windows.

No sharp objects.

No immediate disasters.

Theek hai… manageable.

As they stepped out, Vanshu closed the door gently behind them.

In the corridor, she exhaled.

Vanshu (low voice):

“Okay… ek crisis temporarily control mai.”

Khushi glanced towards Akshu’s room again.

Khushi:

“Bas ab upar wala wala crisis sambhalna hai.”

They shared a quiet, determined look—

And moved on.

Outside Team Aashvi’s room — corridor quiet, footsteps fading

Khushi had just taken one step forward when—

Vanshu’s voice stopped her.

Not loud.

Not angry.

Just… firm.

Vanshu:

“Khushi, ek minute. Humari baat abhi khatam nhi hui h.”

Khushi froze.

She didn’t turn around immediately.

Khushi (casual, pretending):

“Kaunsi baat?”

She knew.

Of course she knew.

Vanshu stepped closer, blocking her way without touching her.

Vanshu (steady, no-nonsense):

“Bano mat.

Tumhe bhi pata hai main kis baare mai bol rahi hoon.”

“Ab please drama nahi. Jo hai, sach batao.”

Khushi forced a small shrug.

Khushi:

“Jab kuch hai hi nahi toh kya bolun?”

Vanshu’s patience cracked—not into anger, but worry.

Vanshu:

“Toh phir tum aise kyun ho rahi ho?”

“School se lekar ab tak—bilkul badli hui lag rahi ho.”

“Khushi, agar kuch serious hai na, toh bolo.”

“Share nahi karogi toh humein kaise pata chalega?”

That did it.

Khushi finally looked at her.

And Vanshu saw it.

The tight jaw.

The glassy eyes.

The way Khushi’s throat moved like she was swallowing words instead of air.

For a second, Khushi said nothing.

Then—

She looked away again.

Khushi’s thoughts (silent, heavy):

Kaise bataun, Vanshu…

Aur kya bataun…

Ki main tum dono pe—anjaane mein hi sahi—doubt kar rahi hoon?

Ki doubt ka wo ek beej jo Radhika Ma’am ne boya h… wo mere dimaag mai ugne laga hai?

Main jaanti hoon—

Main jaanti hoon jo unhone kaha, wo practical duniya ke hisaab se galat nahi hai.

Life busy ho jaati hai.

Careers aa jaate hain.

Raaste alag ho jaate hain.

Aur yeh bhi jaanti hoon—

Hum kahin bhi ho, kuch bhi ho—

Hum ek dusre ko kabhi nahi bhoolenge.

Kabhi saath chhodenge nahi.

Par phir bhi…

Aaj pehli baar mera dimaag mere dil ke khilaaf khada hai.

Dil jaanta hai sach kya hai.

Par dimaag…

Dimaag logical reasons laa raha hai doubt karne ke liye.

Aur sabse bura pata h kya hai?

Main itni weak ho gayi hoon ki khud ko bhi chup nahi kara paa rahi.

Samjha rahi hoon khud ko… par wo baatein jaa hi nahi rahi dimaag se.

Aur main yeh sab tumhe ya Akshu ko bata ke—

Aur hurt nahi kar sakti. Sorry par aaj mai nhi bata sakti tumhe yeh sab.. Mujhe khud ko hi samjhana hoga.. Par kaise? Tum dono se alag hone ka khayaal hi andar se mujhe kamzor kar de raha h.

Vanshu waited.

Too long.

Vanshu (soft now, but worried):

“Khushi… bolo yaar.”

“Main kuch pooch rahi hoon tumse.”

Khushi took a shaky breath.

She still didn’t say the words.

But the silence between them had already said too much.

Khushi finally broke the silence first, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Khushi (brushing it off):

“Vanshu chhodo na yaar… itni important baat nahi hai.”

“Main theek ho jaungi.”

“Jaane do.”

“Chalo, pehle ma’am ne jo kaam diya hai who sambhalte hain.”

She turned slightly, ready to walk away.

That’s when—

Vanshu’s patience snapped.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

But sharp enough to stop Khushi in her tracks.

Vanshu:

“Bas. Ruko.”

Khushi froze again.

Vanshu stepped in front of her this time, eyes blazing—not with anger, but hurt.

Vanshu (voice tight):

“Tumhari problem kya hai, Khushi?”

“Ek baat main dus baar pooch chuki hoon tumse.”

“Aisi kaunsi baat hai jo tumse boli nahi jaa rahi, haan?”

Khushi opened her mouth—

Vanshu didn’t let her.

Vanshu:

“Aur ‘chhod do’ kyun?”

“Jab hume kuch hota hai toh tum chhod deti ho kya?”

“Akshu ki tabiyat kharab thi—tum peeche hati?”

“Meri baat hoti hai toh tum ignore karti ho?”

“Toh phir main kyun chhod doon?”

Khushi’s chest tightened.

Khushi (defensive):

“Yeh same baat nahi hai—”

Vanshu (cutting in):

“Same kyun nahi hai?”

“Hum teen ek saath nahi hain kya?”

“Ya ab tumhare liye alag rules ho gaye hain?”

That hit a nerve.

Khushi’s jaw clenched.

Khushi:

“Tum samajhne ki koshish hi nahi kar rahi ho—”

Vanshu:

“Kyuki tum bol hi nahi rahi ho!”

“Main koi mind reader nahi hoon, Khushi!”

“Bol do ek baar—kya chal raha hai tumhare dimaag mein?”

Silence.

Khushi’s hands curled into fists.

Her breathing quickened.

The words she had been holding back—

Fighting—

Pushing down—

They surged up all at once.

And before she could stop herself—

She said it.

Khushi (voice breaking, frustration spilling out):

“KYUKI MUJHE DAR LAG RAHA HAI, THEEK HAI?!”

Vanshu froze.

Khushi hadn’t meant to shout.

But now that the dam had cracked, the water came rushing out—messy, wrong, uncontrolled.

Khushi (blurting, the words coming out harsher than she intended):

“Dar lag raha hai ki ek din tum dono apni-apni life mein itni busy ho jaogi—“Ki main… main bas yahin reh jaungi.”

“Ki main tum dono ke liye priority nahi rahungi.”

She laughed once—bitter, broken.

Khushi:

“Tum log toh already strong ho.”

“Apna-apna talent hai.”

“Padhai bhi acche se kar lete ho.”

“Main hi hoon jo—”

She stopped herself too late.

Vanshu’s face had gone completely still.

Not angry.

Not shocked.

Just… hurt.

Vanshu (slow, quiet):

“Toh tumhe lagta hai… hum tumhe chhod denge?”

Khushi instantly realized—

Yeh who tareeka nahi tha.

Yeh who shabd nahi the.

She had said it wrong.

All wrong.

Her voice dropped, panic replacing frustration.

Khushi:

“Nahi—mera matlab—Vanshu—maine—”

But the damage was already done.

The silence between them stretched again.

Heavier than before.

Because some words—

Once spoken—

Can’t be taken back.

And Khushi stood there, heart pounding, realizing—

She hadn’t just confessed her fear.

She had hurt the one person who never deserved it.

Vanshu didn’t wait for Khushi to finish.

Didn’t wait for an explanation.

Didn’t wait for an apology.

She just… stepped back.

Slowly.

As if putting physical distance between herself and words that had cut deeper than intended.

Khushi saw it then.

That slight tightening of Vanshu’s jaw.

The way her eyes blinked once, twice—too fast.

That was Vanshu’s tell.

She was hurt.

Badly.

Vanshu (voice unnervingly calm):

“Wow.”

Just one word.

Soft. Flat. Controlled.

That scared Khushi more than shouting ever could.

Vanshu:

“Toh yahi sochti ho tum?”

Khushi shook her head instantly, panic flooding her face.

Khushi:

“Nahi—Vanshu, please suno—maine galat tareeke se—”

Vanshu (cutting her off):

“Nahi.”

“Ab rehne do.”

She laughed under her breath, a hollow sound.

Vanshu:

“Tumhe lagta hai main aur Akshu tumhe bhool jaayenge?”

“Busy ho jaayenge aur tum… side mein reh jaogi?”

She looked away for a second, swallowing hard.

Vanshu (quiet but sharp):

“Tumhe idea bhi hai tum kya bol rahi ho?”

Khushi stepped forward instinctively.

Khushi:

“Vanshu, mujhe nahi lagta—mujhe bas—”

Vanshu (suddenly louder):

“Bas kya?!”

“Bas insecurity?”

“Bas darr?”

“Bas kisi ne bol diya aur tumne maan liya?!”

That hit.

Khushi froze.

Vanshu turned back to her, eyes blazing now—not with rage, but betrayal.

Vanshu:

“Tumne ek second ke liye bhi nahi socha ki hum kaun hain?”

“Hum teen ne kya-kya jhela hai saath”

“Tumhe lagta hai yeh itna aasaan hai chhod dena?”

Her chest rose and fell sharply.

Vanshu:

“Main tumse lad sakti hoon.”

“Tumpe chillaa sakti hoon.”

“Par yeh sunna—”

She stopped herself.

Shook her head.

Vanshu (firm, wounded):

“Yeh main deserve nahi karti, Khushi.”

Silence slammed between them.

Khushi’s eyes filled instantly.

Khushi (voice trembling):

“I’m sorry… mujhe nahi bolna chahiye tha—”

But Vanshu had already turned away.

She grabbed her jacket from the chair near the door, movements sharp, angry, restless.

Khushi (panicking):

“Vanshu ruko—kahaan jaa rahi ho?”

Vanshu didn’t look back.

Vanshu (cold, final):

“Mujhe thoda space chahiye.”

“Isse pehle main aur kuch galat bol doon.”

She pulled the door open.

Cold air rushed in.

Khushi (almost crying now):

“Please… akeli mat jao—”

Vanshu paused—just for half a second.

Her hand on the door.

Vanshu (low, hurt):

“Tumhe lagta hai main akeli ho jaungi?”

That was it.

She stepped out.

The door shut behind her with a soft click—

But to Khushi, it sounded like something breaking.

Khushi stood there, frozen.

Her heart racing.

Her throat burning.

She hadn’t wanted this.

Not the fight.

Not the words.

Not this distance.

Upstairs, Akshu slept—unaware.

Downstairs, the house was quiet.

And somewhere outside,

Vanshu walked away with anger in her steps

And hurt sitting heavy in her chest—

While Khushi stood alone in the corridor, realizing one terrifying truth:

Some fears don’t need enemies.

They destroy things all by themselves.

---

To be continued in the next part..