Author's POV

Avani sat in the garden as evening settled around her, the environment calm and quiet. The sky was slowly fading into softer shades, and a cool breeze brushed past her skin.

Her eyes lingered on Rocky, her small dog. She had brought him home a long time ago.

They had never named him back then, but Raj did it now and they all hi m from the same name Rocky.

The little one had grown into a beautiful dog now. He ran freely across the garden, rolling in the grass and chasing fallen leaves, completely lost in his joy. Watching him play brought a soft smile to Avani’s lips.

To her, Rocky was like her child.

“Here is your tea,” Arati’s voice broke Avani’s gaze.

Avani turned as Arati approached and gently placed the tray beside her. Avani looked up at her and smiled faintly.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

As they sat there, slowly sipping their tea, Arati spoke looking at Rocky “Now you have two babies to look after.”

Avani smiled and nodded.

“By the way,” Arati added, her eyes lighting up, “are you planning to find out the baby’s gender?” she asked excitedly.

Avani smiled at her enthusiasm and shook her head.

“No.”

Arati pouted playfully. “That’s okay too. But I want a girl,” she said softly. “They’re so cute.”

Then she looked at Avani.

“What do you want?”

Avani paused for a moment before replying.

“I don’t know. Whatever it is… it will be mine.”

Arati smiled warmly.

“That’s cute”

They sat in calm silence for a while. Arati had come here after a long time, and suddenly a thought clicked in Avani’s mind.

“Are you and Vrishabh the only siblings,” Avani asked gently, “or do you have a sister too?”

Arati looked at her. The softness on her face faded slightly.

“I have an elder sister,” she said quietly.

Avani listened carefully.

After a brief pause, Arati continued, "Vrishabh and I are step-siblings. He has a different mother.”

Avani’s eyes lifted to her, attentive.

“When I was around ten,” Arati said, her voice low, “my mother remarried. We came here with me, my mother, and my sister. For a long time, I thought Vrishabh’s father was my real dad.”

She swallowed.

“But later… I found out he wasn’t.”

Avani looked at her in shock. Vrishabh behavior had never once made her feel that Arati was anything less than his real sister.

Arati continued, her voice steady but distant.

“I don’t know where my sister is now. When my mother died… she didn’t cry. Not even once. Instead, she started behaving strangely.”

Avani’s chest tightened.

“Dad thought a new environment might help her,” Arati said softly. “So he sent her to London for her studies. He believed she would forget everything with time.”

A bitter smile touched her lips.

“But in all these years, she has never called me. Not even once.”

Arati looked down at her tea.

“I tried to contact her,” she whispered. “Again and again. But she never responded. I don’t even know where she is now.”

She lifted her eyes to Avani.

“Whenever I ask Dad about her… he avoids the question.”

Avani looked at her, one question burning in her throat.

She had carried it for so long and heard it whispered in her own mind countless times. Every time she thought of asking Vrishabh she stopped herself.

But now, the words refused to stay buried.

She finally asked.

“Did Vrishabh kill his mother?”

The question landed like a bomb in the air.

Silence followed.

“No… he didn’t,” Arati said quietly.

“She killed herself.”

The words fell flat, heavy, as if the air itself refused to move after them.

“My mother was mentally unstable,” Arati continued, her voice hollow. “Whenever something didn’t go according to her will, she destroyed everything around her. She used to beat me… burn me. She was always like that.”

Avani’s fingers tightened around her teacup, her heart sinking with every word.

“That day,” Arati swallowed hard, “she completely lost control. She was throwing things, screaming, hitting me. Then she poured castor oil all over me and in the room.” Her voice trembled. “She wanted to burn me alive.”

Avani’s breath hitched.

“Vrishabh dragged me away from her,” Arati said. “He pushed her into the room and locked the door. But in the chaos, a candle fell. The flame spread… the fire caught.”

Her eyes glazed, lost somewhere far away.

“I was holding Vrishabh’s hand tightly,” she whispered. “So tightly that he couldn’t move. I didn’t let him open the door.” Her lips quivered.

“Maybe… maybe I didn’t want her to be alive.”

She looked down at her trembling hands.

“If I had wanted to, I could’ve opened that door,” Arati said, her voice breaking. “But I didn’t. I wanted to save myself.”

Silence followed thick, suffocating.

Avani sat frozen, her chest aching.

“That day,” Arati continued, her voice barely holding together, “everyone assumed he burned her.”

Her fingers clenched in her lap.

“People started talking whispering, accusing. They said Vrishabh did it. I was there too… but no one looked at me. No one questioned me.” A bitter smile touched her lips. “Because I was her real daughter. A daughter couldn’t do something like that. That’s what they believed.”

“Everyone looked at him with disgust,” Arati said. “Like he was a monster. Like he was born evil.” Her eyes burned. “I wanted to tell them the truth, I tried.”

She inhaled sharply, fighting the weight in her chest.

“And somewhere… I didn’t want to be hated the way Vrishabh was hated.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “I saw what that hatred did to him.”

A long pause.

“But Vrishabh was there,” Arati added quietly.

Avani looked at her.

“He told me not to tell anyone,” she said. There was no accusation in her tone only truth.

“So I stayed quiet,” Arati whispered. “Maybe that’s why I never told the whole truth. Because if I did… that hatred would’ve turned toward me.”

“What today Vrishabh is samewhere i am the one of reason.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she continued.

“She was never my mother,” Arati said. “And not even… human.”

Avani didn’t interrupt. She didn’t dare to.

“People sey he burned his mother but she was never and he never did nothing.”

“And about Vrishabh’s mother…” Arati hesitated. “I don’t know much. No one talks about her. Not dad, Not even Vrishabh.”

Her eyes lifted, distant.

“It’s like she never existed. Like her name was erased along with her life.”

A quiet realization settled in Avani’s chest heavy and unsettling. Some wounds in that house weren’t just buried.

Avani didn’t say anything.

Her gaze lowered to the tea in her hands, the surface now cold and untouched. She simply listened. She didn’t judge Arati not even for a second.

But inside her mind, questions stirred quietly, painfully. How could a mother try to kill her own child? The thought made her chest tighten.

Slowly, Avani placed the cup down.

Arati noticed it immediately. Her eyes flicked to Avani’s face, then lower as Avani’s hand moved instinctively to her stomach.

Before she could say anything more, Avani leaned forward, her arms wrapping around Arati in a sudden, gentle embrace. Just… warm.

Arati froze for a second, surprised then relaxed into it.

For the first time since she had spoken those truths aloud, she didn’t feel exposed or guilty.

She felt understood.

The garden remained quiet around them. The evening breeze moved softly through the leaves, and somewhere nearby, Rocky barked happily, unaware of the heaviness that had just passed between the two women.

Sometimes, comfort didn’t need words.

Sometimes, being held without judgment was enough.

Avani slowly broke the hug.

She turned toward the garden and called, “Rocky, come.”

At the sound of her voice, the dog immediately ran toward them, his tail wagging wildly. Avani patted his head. “Good boy,” she praised, smiling as he happily circled around her, basking in the affection.

Together, they made their way back inside the mansion.

But Avani’s steps grew heavier with every passing second.

Her thoughts ran wild how much pain had he carried alone? How many truths had he buried without ever speaking them out loud? She realized how little he had shared, how carefully he had hidden everything behind silence.

He always suppressed his feelings.

They stepped inside the mansion and Arati’s feet came to an abrupt halt.

Her breath hitched.

A man stood there, his posture straight despite his age, silver hair neatly combed back, his sharp eyes carrying the weight of decades. He was in his early eighties, yet there was an undeniable authority about him, something that made the air feel heavier the moment he appeared.

Arati’s lips trembled. The word escaped her mouth before she could stop it.

“G-grandfather…”

Avani looked at her in surprise, then followed Arati’s gaze back to the man.