A morning light spilled across the courtyard when we woke - last proper day stretching ahead like a held breath. Adults vanished toward town, pulled by deals and errands, their cars kicking dust down the drive. House settled under new rule: children weaving through rooms while maids kept quiet order behind curtains. Silence hummed differently without elders nearby.

  Dhanya froze when it hit her - Shwetha wasn’t there. Fear shot through her at the thought of Papa finding out his daughter had slipped away. Out she went, stepping onto the road, eyes scanning small stores nearby. Around the bend, a vehicle crept up, then came to rest directly ahead.

  It was George.

  Tomorrow again?" he said, grinning like he already knew.

  "How can you be sure?" Dhanya said, moving away.

  "I know everything. Hop in, I’ll drop you home."

  "No, thank you," Dhanya said firmly. "I know about you and Nidhi, George. She told me everything."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  George didn't even flinch. He laughed, a dry, dismissive sound. "Did she? Girls imagine so much. I still want your number, Dhanya. Or are you too scared? Shwetha is certainly braver than you."

  "What do you mean?"

  Down the road, George looked and gestured. With Akhil, she was there

  Footsteps froze beneath her ribs when the motorcycle came into view. Riding behind, Shwetheta stepped off by the entrance beside someone called Akhil, calm as if nothing had changed. A different figure lingered close - Franklin, related to George by blood, yet nothing like him in manner. Unlike his brother’s open gaze, this one stayed relaxed, almost distant, still locking onto Dhanya with quiet force that prickled her skin.

  Just as the words were about to spill out, the maid appeared on the porch. With a sudden pull, Dhanya yanked Shwetha through the door, Franklin’s silent look still stuck behind her eyes.