Amara's POV:
The city is more beautiful than anyone can imagine. Vihaan, Saya, and I were there, exploring the beautiful streets of Jaipur. The market roared with sound—vendors shouting, bells clanging, traffic snarling like an angry animal. I stayed close behind Vihaan, my fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve as we threaded through the crowd.
There were really eye-appealing views, so I stopped to take a picture, but in this, I lost sight of Vihaan.
A horn shrieked.Brakes screamed.People shouted as a motorbike skidded across the street.
My heart seized.Through the crush of bodies, I caught a glimpse of a blue shirt—his blue—stumbling toward the traffic.
"Vihaan!" The name ripped from me, thin against the roar.
I shoved forward, elbows scraping strangers, the memory of sirens and flashing lights from years ago slamming back into me. My parents. That night. The smell of smoke and blood. I couldn't breathe.
Not again. Please, not again.
I fought through the crowd, pulse pounding in my ears—
…and a firm hand grabbed my arm.
I spun, heart in my throat—Vihaan stood there, alive, eyes blazing with alarm.
"Ama! What happened?" His voice cracked, sharper than I'd ever heard it.He tightened his grip, scanning my face. "Why are you running? Did someone hurt you? Talk to me!"
I could only shake my head, words locked behind the lump in my throat.
"You're pale—are you dizzy? Did you get pushed?" His gaze swept the crowd like he expected an attacker to leap out. "Tell me where it hurts."
"I—" My breath hitched. "I thought…" The rest dissolved into a sob.
"Hey, look at me. Ama, look at me!" He cupped my face, thumbs trembling against my cheeks. "Breathe. In. Out. Right here with me. Nothing bad happened, I am fine. Relax."
Fresh tears blurred my vision. "I saw… I thought the bike—" My voice cracked again.
His arms came around me, fierce and unrelenting. "Shhh, it's okay. You're safe. I'm here. I promise. I'm not going anywhere."
He held me tighter, still murmuring against my hair—quiet, urgent words I could barely catch. "I've got you… I've got you…"
The market noise faded until all I heard was the frantic thud of his heart, steady and alive beneath my palms.
Vihaan's POV:
I held out the water bottle to Ama. "Drink it," I said gently.
She took it hesitantly, trembling slightly, eyes still red and glassy. I had never seen her like this—so fragile, so shaken. My chest ached at the sight. I knew she thought something had happened to me, but even now, the panic hadn't fully left her. She wasn't ready to speak, and she wasn't ready to listen either.
I stayed close, keeping my hand near hers, just a small presence of reassurance. "It's okay," I whispered, my voice soft, steady. "I'm right here. You're safe. You don't have to rush."
Watching her sip slowly, I felt some of the tension in her body ease. Every trembling breath she took made me more aware of how much I wanted to protect her—not just from danger, but from the shadows of fear and memories that still haunted her.
I didn't let go. I wouldn't. Not yet. Not until I was sure she was really okay.
After she felt relieved, we left the place and headed towards home.
"What happened, Ama? Are you okay?" Nani asked, looking concerned at Ama.
"I am okay, Nani, just a little tired," she answered immediately before I could say anything. Then she left for her room. It was our last day here, and this was the last thing I wanted to happen. I brought her here to make her happy, but instead made her go through a trauma.
As part of our daily routine here, we had our dinner together, where she was quieter than usual.
I was sitting on the rooftop, thinking about what could be the reason she was so restless, when I heard footsteps approaching. When the person fully covered the distance, I saw her face… Ama.
"Sorry, but I wanted to bother you," she said as she sat beside me. I felt a small relief; she seemed calmer than earlier.
"You okay?" I asked, looking at her.
"Much better," she nodded. Then, after a pause, she added softly, "Vihaan… can I tell you something?"
I turned slightly to look at her, giving her my full attention. "Of course, you don't need to ask," I said.
She hesitated, staring at the city lights below. "It's about… my parents."
I remained silent, letting her choose the words in her own time.
Her voice was small at first, trembling, but it grew steadier as she continued. "I was nine or ten. It was a happy night as always… Mom, Dad, and I. I was sleeping when Mom woke me up. She was sweating and badly injured." She swallowed hard. "She was holding her bleeding stomach wound with one hand while the other touched my face. She kept telling me to leave, to run as fast as I could. Dad was nowhere in sight. She said she'd come back later, but something in my heart told me that if I left her, I'd never see her again. I wasn't leaving… unsure of where to go without my parents. In that moment, Jia was the only name that came to my Mom's mind, so she told me to go to her. I started running—but in a flash, I saw someone… stabbing her."
Tears streamed down her face, and I felt a stab of guilt for bringing her into that panic earlier. I kept my expression calm, letting her know she could trust me with the weight of it.
She hesitated again, and I realized she wasn't done. "And… about Jia," she said finally, looking up at me. "I know you already… know."
I blinked, caught off guard, but kept my tone gentle. "I don't know what you mean."
She let out a soft sigh, almost a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I know you won't just sit there if I'm worried or restless. You notice. You don't let things slide easily. So… I know you've figured out that Jia isn't my real sibling, that the family I've been living with isn't… well… my real family."
I studied her face, seeing the mixture of vulnerability and trust. She wasn't accusing me, nor was she angry—I realized she was simply acknowledging the quiet ways I pay attention, the ways I refuse to ignore her worries.
"I… I can't just let you carry things like this alone," I admitted softly. "But you don't have to tell me everything if you're not ready."
She leaned back slightly, letting the cool night air wash over her. "I wanted to tell you… because somehow I think it's your right to know. You always notice, even when I try to hide it. And I… I trust you, Vihaan."
A quiet warmth spread through me. This was the first time she was letting me in, letting me see the pieces of her past she usually kept locked away. I didn't push, didn't speak, just sat there with her, letting the city lights and the soft wind hold the space between us.
After a long pause, she whispered, "Thank you… for noticing. And for being here."
I nodded, feeling the weight of her trust, and quietly vowed to never let her face her past alone again.