The morning light crept in through the large hospital windows, casting golden beams on the white floor tiles.

Meher slowly opened her eyes. This time, her body didn't feel like a burden. The medicine, fluids, and rest had done their work. Her limbs ached, but they moved.

She carefully pushed off the bedsheet, stood with effort, and tiptoed to the window pane, steadying herself against the cold glass.

Outside, Bangalore was alive.

Cars honked. Buses zoomed. People ran — to work, to school, to meetings — like the whole world had somewhere to be.

And here she stood, like a forgotten pause between sentences.

Her eyes welled up.

"Everyone is moving... running. Even the rainwater flows down a drain or finds its way to the sea."

"But me?"
"Where am I going?"

"What do I have?"

"What's next?"

The lump in her throat grew tighter. She wrapped her arms around herself, lost in the questions that had no answers.

Until — the door creaked open behind her.

She turned slowly, wiping her eyes quickly.

Justice Vikram Malhotra walked in with a small bouquet of fresh lilies in one hand, followed by Devika, carrying a thermos and a bag.

"Look who's back on her feet," Vikram said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Devika walked over and gently guided Meher back to bed.

"You shouldn't stand too long. You're still recovering," she said warmly, brushing Meher's hair behind her ear.

"I'm okay now," Meher whispered. "Thanks to you both."

She looked at them, truly looked — this elegant couple with warm eyes, gentle hands, and no judgment. Total strangers who had shown more care than people she'd known her whole life.

"I... I don't know how to thank you. You didn't even know me. I was just—"

"A girl in need," Vikram cut in gently. "And that's all we needed to know."

Devika placed a hand on Meher's. "Sometimes, you don't need to understand someone's whole story to help them."

Meher's eyes brimmed again — not from sadness, but something new. Something that almost resembled hope.

For the first time in days, she felt... seen.

.....

Meher sat on the edge of the hospital bed, dressed in fresh, simple clothes that Devika had arranged for her — a soft cotton kurta and leggings. Her hair was combed, her wounds tended. The IV drip had been removed, and the nurse had just handed over the discharge papers.

She still felt weak — not in body, but in soul.

But she stood up.

She had to.

She turned to Vikram and Devika, her eyes soft with gratitude. "Thank you... for everything. You didn't just save me physically... you reminded me that not everyone is cruel."

Vikram gave a small smile, his hands folded behind him like the judge he once was. "You're stronger than you think, Meher."

Devika stepped closer, gently fixing the dupatta on her shoulder. "We don't know what storm you walked through, beta... but you didn't let it swallow you. That says a lot."

A moment passed between them — heavy, unspoken, meaningful.

Just then, a hospital attendant entered and handed Vikram the final paperwork. "She's discharged, sir."

"Great," Vikram nodded. Then turned to Meher.
"Come. We'll drop you home."

Meher froze.

"No... I-I mean, I'll manage," she said quickly, panic flickering in her voice. "I don't want to trouble you more. You've done enough already."

Vikram's brows rose slightly. His voice was calm but firm. "It's not about trouble. You're still weak. I can't let you go wandering alone again."

"I'll take a cab. I promise," she insisted.

Vikram looked at her for a long second. And then, with that judge-like tone that allowed no room for excuses, he said, "Meher. Address."

She sighed. Cornered. Her pride fighting her tired body.

She looked down, clutching the hem of her kurta, and whispered the address.

Devika noted it mentally, then gently touched Meher's shoulder. "Sometimes letting someone care isn't a sign of weakness. It's a step toward healing."

Meher simply nodded, heart heavy.

Because deep down... a part of her didn't want to go back at all.

AT ARAV  HOUSE....

The black Audi rolled through the gates of Malhotra Mansion, nestled in one of the posh yet serene lanes of Bangalore. The early morning rays danced along the perfectly trimmed garden, as birds chirped like they too belonged to this warm, happy household.

Devika stepped out first, followed by Vikram, both looking visibly tired yet emotionally light after the hospital visit.

As they entered through the double doors, the soft smell of sandalwood and fresh lilies filled the air. Their home wasn't just grand — it felt lived in. Loved in.

And so naturally — chaos followed.

"Where were you two?"
"Mumma, Papa, it's 8 AM!"
"You didn't even tell us you were going anywhere!"

It was the Malhotra family in full form.

Rhea, Arav's younger sister, padded down in bunny slippers.
Ishaan and Tara, the college-going cousins, peeked from the kitchen holding mugs of coffee.
Even the family dog, Simba, barked once in sleepy protest.

"Relax, relax," Vikram said, raising both hands as if settling a courtroom. "We're fine."

Devika chuckled as she kicked off her sandals. "We'll explain. Let us breathe first."

But before they could say another word, a tall figure emerged from the hallway — dressed in a crisp black T-shirt and joggers, a towel slung over his shoulder.

Arav Malhotra.

Sharp jawline, intense eyes, a presence that made people pause mid-sentence.

The CEO. The serious one. The perfectionist.

But right now — he was just a son.

"Maa!" Arav said, walking over to Devika and pulling her into a hug. "You didn't answer my calls. I thought something happened."

She smiled and patted his cheek. "We're fine, Arav. Calm down. I had left my phone in the car."

Vikram placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "We had an unexpected night. We'll tell you everything. Come to the living room."

—

Ten minutes later, the whole family was gathered in the spacious living room. Cushions thrown around, juice glasses on the table, and Rhea bringing a plate of cookies no one asked for.

Vikram finally explained the incident — about the girl on the road, how she fainted, the hospital visit, and her discharge.

The room went silent for a moment, a rare thing in the Malhotra household.

"Poor girl," said Tara, frowning. "That's... heartbreaking."

"Did she say anything about her family?" asked Rhea.

"Nothing yet," Devika replied. "We're just glad she's okay."

Before more could be said, Mr. Raj Malhotra — Vikram's elder brother and Arav's uncle, who held a strong position in Arav's company — suddenly leaned forward with a teasing smile.

"Anyway... forget all that. Since the whole family is finally sitting together... why not talk about Arav's marriage?"

Arav, who had just taken a sip of coffee, froze mid-action.

Devika gave a soft laugh. "We're serious this time, beta."

"Exactly," added Vikram. "You've built a business empire. Now build a life."

Arav raised an eyebrow, his tone casual but eyes sharp.
"Can we postpone this 'build a life' pitch to when I actually take a leave from office?"

Tara giggled sheepishly. "Bhaiya, are you planning to marry your MacBook? Or maybe your calendar?"

Rhea added, smirking, "Or should we find a girl with a CEO position so she can 'schedule' your emotions too?"

Laughter echoed through the room.

Arav rolled his eyes but a soft smile tugged at his lips. "You all should try stand-up comedy. The Malhotra Circus."

Raj chuckled. "Don't worry. Someday soon, a girl will walk into your life and turn it upside down. Just wait."

Arav didn't respond to that.

He just leaned back in the sofa, gaze thoughtful, hiding the tiniest smirk that crept onto his lips.

Little did he know... fate had already started writing her name beside his.

BACK TO  MEHER HOUSE..

The car pulled up slowly in front of the modest two-storey home tucked into a quiet lane of Bangalore.

Meher stared at the front gate through the car window, her heart pounding.

The same gate she had walked out of last night — barefoot, broken, and unheard.

Now she was back. But nothing felt the same.

She hesitated, her fingers tightly gripping her small hospital file as the driver politely opened the door for her.

"Take care, ma'am," he said gently.

She nodded with a soft "thank you" and stepped out.

Her legs were still slightly weak, but her fear was stronger.

As she walked slowly toward the door, the air felt heavier — like it knew what was waiting inside.

The door creaked open.

And there, right in the living room, sat her uncle, Ramesh Sharma, on the sofa. Head in his hands. Eyes tired. Worry etched deep into every line on his face.

Her footsteps paused.

He looked up — and the moment his eyes landed on her, he stood up abruptly.

"Meher...!" His voice broke, rushing to her.

Tears pooled in her eyes. For a second, she wanted to collapse into his arms — like she used to as a child after a bad dream.

But before she could respond...

"Meher! Thank god, you're okay!"
Her aunt suddenly appeared behind her, voice loud and fake.

"We were so worried!" chimed in Tanya, rushing over with exaggerated expressions.

Meher's gaze snapped to them, expression blank. Her body stiffened.

Aunt and daughter duo, who didn't blink twice when she walked out last night.

Now pretending like nothing happened.

Ramesh glanced between Meher and them — and something clicked.

His jaw clenched.

He turned back to Meher. "Where were you? What happened?"

"I... fainted on the road," Meher said softly, eyes on the floor. "A car almost hit me. Someone took me to the hospital."

Ramesh stepped closer, gently touching her shoulder. "You should've called. Do you know how scared I was?"

"I didn't have my phone..." she whispered.

Before either could say more, her aunt jumped in again.

"But you should've told us where you were going! We thought—"

"You let her go," Ramesh snapped, turning sharply toward his wife. "You didn't stop her."

Tanya looked down, finally quiet.

Meher stood there, numb. She had returned to the same walls, the same voices — but something inside her had changed.

And maybe this time, she wouldn't stay silent anymore.