Outside the Study — Rani
Unbeknownst to Bhoomi or Yuvaan, the faintest rustle betrayed that someone else stood just beyond the study doors.
Rani.
She remained motionless, half-hidden behind the wall, her posture relaxed yet her eyes glinted with a sharp, predatory awareness. Every word—every doubt, every fear—flowed straight into her ears like a sweet melody.
"Kiaan is lying… I cannot let him become a liar."
"Our family faced shadows before."
"The ritual proved she is human."
Her lips curved—slowly, beautifully—into a smile that held no innocence. Only victory.
The moment their conversation shifted into silence, she slipped away, soundless as mist. Her anklet tinkled once—deliberately or carelessly, no one could tell—but by the time Bhoomi glanced toward the corridor, Rani was already gone.
---
Rani's Bedroom — Locked Doors, Hidden Truth
The moment she entered her room, she turned the key and locked the door with quiet certainty. The click echoed like an oath.
She leaned against the door, exhaling with delight—not relief, but satisfaction.
"So much love," she murmured softly, voice dripping sweet poison. "So much trust… and little Kiaan stands alone."
She walked further in, fingers brushing along her mirror frame, watching her reflection—too perfect, too calm.
"He sees me," she whispered, dark amusement sparkling in her eyes. "That child's eyes are sharp. But no one believes him. Not even his precious father."
She twirled gracefully, almost playful, and sat before the mirror, tracing her red lips with a fingertip.
"No one will ever know who I am. Not Yuvaan… not Kiara… not even that little boy." Her expression hardened—still beautiful, but now cold. "Because I know how I passed that ritual. I, and only I."
A laugh escaped her—low, thrilled, dangerous.
"They made me stand before the holy flame…" she recalled, eyes distant, as if replaying a fond memory of deception. "They tested my essence, searched for shadows. And yet—"
She smirked. "—the priest never realized whose blood stained the ritual thread that night. Not mine."
She lifted her wrist, where a faint, healed scratch lingered—evidence of a price she had once paid willingly.
"No test can expose me," she breathed, leaning closer to her reflection. "Because I mastered the forbidden path long before they suspected it existed."
Her eyes glowed faintly—just for a heartbeat—like embers hidden beneath ash.
"And as long as Kiaan stands alone, his truth will sound like a child's fantasy."
Her smile returned—slow, poisonous, victorious.
"This family will break itself without me ever lifting a finger."
The wind outside howled faintly, brushing the curtains as though bowing to her promise.
Kiaan's Room — Pratap Singh Villa, Night
Kiaan sat cross-legged on his bed, clutching Kiara's photo frame so tightly that his small knuckles whitened. Tears streaked down his cheeks, glistening in the dim lamp light.
"Mumma… nobody believes me," he whispered, voice trembling. "Papa… he's going to marry her… the pishachini… and no one listens. No one will see the truth."
His lip quivered as he pressed the frame against his chest, as if drawing strength from her smile frozen in the photograph.
"Please… Mumma… send an angel… someone… anyone… to save Papa. No matter what… I love him… I love him so much, but I… I can't let her hurt him," he pleaded, tears soaking the bedsheet.
From the hallway, a quiet sound stopped Bhoomi in her tracks. She had been passing by, tidying up, when she noticed the soft, choking sobs.
Peering through the slightly open door, she froze. Her heart twisted at the sight of the little boy, so small, so broken, speaking into the night as if Kiara could hear him.
Bhoomi swallowed, blinked back tears, and stepped back silently. She pressed a hand to her lips, praying the boy's fears were false, praying that the family was not making a terrible mistake by dismissing his words.
But a seed of worry rooted deep in her chest. If Kiaan was right… if Rani truly was what he claimed… then God only knew the consequences.
She whispered a silent prayer of her own: "If it's true… Kiara… God… let an angel hear him tonight. Let the truth shine, and protect this family."
---
Khushi's Apartment — Same Night
Several miles away, in a small rented apartment in a quiet part of the city, Khushi locked the door behind her. Every window was secured. For once, the world outside felt distant, unreachable.
She sank onto the couch, dragging her knees close. The weight of her past—the fear, the betrayal, the nights she had fought to survive—rose unbidden. She traced her fingers along the edges of her bag, feeling the safety of the small, simple apartment.
Finally, she let out a long, shuddering breath.
"Maybe… maybe now I can start over," she thought. "Maybe I can finally begin a new journey… and leave all that darkness behind."
Her eyes softened as they stared into the dim lamplight, a fragile hope flickering in her chest. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to imagine a life she could call her own—free, safe… and her own.
---
To be continued…