The butler held the crying Ishan tightly, guiding him out of the room. The boy's sobs echoed through the vast halls — raw, trembling sounds that seemed to shake not just the marble floors, but also Arav's heart. Still on his knees beside his father's bed, Arav watched his little brother disappear down the corridor, tears streaming down his own face.
As he lowered his gaze, something flickered. For an instant, he thought he saw a shadow moving inside Ishan's shadow — a faint, slithering distortion. He blinked, but it was gone. He tried to steady his breathing, telling himself it was only his grief playing tricks on his mind.
His father's death had left him hollow, but he forced himself to swallow the grief. Someone had to remain strong now. The responsibilities that once rested on Lieutenant Vikram's shoulders had now fallen upon his and Shaurya's. With a heavy heart, Arav rose to his feet, determined to hold himself together.
But fate refused to give him even a moment's rest.
The door burst open. The butler stumbled in, panting."Master! Young Master Ishan has lost consciousness—he's burning with fever!"
Arav's eyes widened. Without a word, he rushed through the hallways, his footsteps echoing against the polished floor. He reached Ishan's room, breathless and drenched in sweat. His little brother lay on the bed, pale and trembling.
"Call the doctor. Now!" he ordered.
The butler, quick despite his age, hurried to the phone and called. Within minutes, the doctor arrived — a middle-aged man with tired eyes and a leather case clutched in one hand. Arav met him at the door, his voice strained but controlled.
"My father just passed away… and now my brother—he fainted suddenly. Please, help him."
The doctor opened his bag, pulled out his instruments, and began examining the boy. He checked the pulse, the temperature, the pupils, and finally sighed with visible relief."It's a mild fever," he said. "Likely caused by emotional shock. The stress of losing his father must have overwhelmed him. When he wakes, do not tell him the news right away — it could worsen his condition. Let him recover first."
Arav nodded slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a little. "Thank you, Doctor. Butler, please escort him to the guest room when he's done."
But before the butler could respond, a sound cut through the quiet room.
A cough.
But it wasn't the voice of a Ishan. First an old man, then a baby, then a boy and many more mixed. It was deeper — layered — several voices overlapping at once.
Everyone froze. The doctor's hand stopped mid-motion. Arav's spine stiffened, his breath caught in his throat. Slowly, they turned toward Ishan.
The boy's eyes were still closed, but a faint, unnatural smile stretched across his face. Then his hand rose — and gripped his own throat.
He began to choke himself, fingers digging into his skin, veins straining against the pressure. His legs jerked violently, trembling, his body shaking as if something inside him was fighting to take control.
"Hold him!" Arav shouted.
The butler rushed to the bed, pinning Ishan's legs while Arav pried at his hands. The boy's nails left deep, red marks across his neck before his grip finally loosened. After several long seconds of chaos, Ishan went still again — his body limp, his breathing uneven.
The room fell silent except for the sound of the doctor's trembling breaths. Sweat dripped from his temple; he looked pale, terrified."I… I've never seen anything like this," he stammered.
Arav's eyes blazed with anger and confusion. "This is your diagnosis? You said it was only a fever!"
The doctor swallowed hard. "I don't know what that was… but I advise you to take him to Delhi. There's a new foreign physician at Mary Smith Hospital — he may be able to help."
Arav exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down. He sank into a nearby chair, rubbing his temples."Very well," he said at last. "We'll leave tomorrow. Butler — inform my elder brother about what happened."
The butler bowed and left at once. Moments later, he returned with a folded note."Master Arav," he said, "Elder Master Shaurya sends his message: I'm deeply worried. But you're the eldest present — in my absence, do what's right. Take care of Ishan and be safe. Everything will be fine."
Hearing those words, Arav's chest loosened slightly. A small, weary sigh escaped him."Good," he murmured. "Then that's what we'll do."
He turned to the doctor. "Stay here tonight. Do not leave Ishan's side. If anything strange happens, call me immediately."
The doctor nodded wordlessly, still shaken.
Arav left the room, his steps slow and heavy. The butler followed him down the corridor, the quiet ticking of the grand clock echoing after them. Behind the closed door, Ishan lay motionless on the bed — but the faint curl of a smile remained on his lips, untouched by fever or dream.