Vihaan's patience snapped. He leaned forward, snatching the sweet box straight out of her hands.
"That's enough," he said curtly. "You'll get used to Bade Maa. Everyone does."
Gauri's mouth fell open as if he'd just committed a crime. "Used to her? You make it sound like she's a thunderstorm one must learn to survive!"
Vihaan arched a brow. "If you're going to stay here, that's exactly what you'll have to do."
Gauri threw her hands up dramatically. "Great. Just great. So this is how my marital life will go — endless laddoos for stress, and a daily saas-bahu soap opera in real life. Perfect!"
Her words dripped with sarcasm, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. Vihaan, despite himself, almost smirked — almost.
Instead, he placed the sweet box on the side table, turning back with his usual sternness. "You talk too much, Gauri."
"And you sulk too much, ACP Kothari," she shot back without missing a beat.
For a moment, silence hung between them, their eyes locked. Then Gauri gave him a cheeky grin and plopped back on his bed, defiantly snatching a single sweet from the box he'd set aside.
Vihaan sighed, clearly deciding he'd had enough of her dramatics for one morning. "I'm heading to the station for some work," he said flatly, striding toward the wardrobe. "And while I'm gone, don't do anything to irk Bade Maa. She already thinks you're… loud."
Gauri gasped, clutching her chest as if he'd stabbed her. "Loud? Excuse me? I'm a delight, Mr. Stern Face."
He ignored her jab, pulling his uniform neatly from the wardrobe.
Her eyes widened when she saw the set of crisp clothes in his hand. "Oye—don't you dare change in front of me!"
Vihaan shot her an unimpressed look over his shoulder. "Relax. I wasn't going to."
He disappeared into the washroom, shutting the door behind him.
Left alone, Gauri huffed, muttering to herself, "Hmph… acting like some disciplined officer twenty-four seven. What does he think, that I'd actually peek?" She popped another sweet into her mouth with a grin.
The bathroom door clicked open, and Vihaan stepped out, every inch the officer in his crisp police uniform. His belt was fastened with precision, and he reached into the drawer to holster his gun.
Gauri's eyes followed him with a mix of awe and mischief. "Don't mind, haan," she said, tilting her head, "but do you only arrest criminals… or do you also arrest witches?"
Vihaan paused mid-action, his jaw tightening. He turned slowly, walked over to where she sat cross-legged on the bed, and leaned down until his face hovered close to hers.
"Witches, hm?" he murmured.
Before Gauri could smirk at her own joke, he snatched a sweet from the box at her side and stuffed it into her mouth. "Stop asking irrelevant questions," he ordered, his voice low but teasing.
Wide-eyed and muffled, Gauri tried to glare at him, but the corner of his mouth curved in the faintest ghost of a smile before he straightened and walked away.
Vihaan adjusted his cap, gave Gauri one last stern glance — as if reminding her not to stir up trouble — and left for the station. The sound of his boots faded down the corridor until the mansion grew quiet again.
Alone in the room, Gauri let out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed. Her thoughts lingered on Vihaan's words, his uniform, and the way he always shifted between coldness and unexpected concern. But before she could get lost in thought, another name crossed her mind.
"Charvi…" she whispered to herself. "I should visit her at the hospital. She must be feeling lonely."
Resolving not to delay, Gauri straightened her dupatta, stepped out of the room, and headed towards the hospital to see Charvi.
Meanwhile, as Gauri left the room with her bag in hand, determined to visit Charvi at the hospital, Veena slipped quietly into the same room. Her face was pale, her hands trembling as Kamini's words from last night echoed in her ears— "Bring me Gauri's comb."
With unease gnawing at her, Veena began rifling through Gauri's belongings. She checked the dressing table drawers, the side of the bed, even the cupboard. Finally, tucked inside a scarf, she spotted it—the wooden comb with strands of Gauri's hair still caught between the teeth.
Veena's throat tightened as she picked it up, her fingers trembling. Her eyes darted to the door as if afraid someone might walk in. "Forgive me, Gauri," she whispered under her breath, clutching the comb tightly. "I have no choice… it's the only way to protect my son."
Veena returned to her room, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She clutched the comb tightly, staring at it as if it burned her palm. Suddenly, the mirror on the wall rippled like water, and Kamini's shadowy form appeared within it, her eyes glowing with a sinister gleam.
"Do it," Kamini commanded coldly. "Toss the comb into the mirror."
Veena's hands shook, but she obeyed. With a deep breath, she hurled the comb at the glass. Instead of bouncing back, it was swallowed whole, vanishing into the dark ripples.
Kamini's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Good… very good. Tomorrow, I will give you a new order. For now, rest at ease, Veena."
The mirror stilled, reflecting only Veena's frightened face. Veena collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in her hands. She had done what Kamini asked—but the guilt in her chest only grew heavier.