The shortlist was out. Five names. Nikhil's was third.
Coach Devraj didn't celebrate. He simply handed each selected boy a schedule—extra training, fitness tests, and one-on-one sessions. The trials were ten days away. Every moment counted.
But Nikhil's mind wasn't on cricket.
His father's cough had worsened. The medicine wasn't working. The local clinic had recommended tests they couldn't afford. The tea stall earnings barely covered food.
That evening, Nikhil skipped training. He sat beside his father, feeding him warm dal and rice, watching the steam rise like fading hope.
"You should be practicing," his father said between coughs.
"I will," Nikhil replied. "But not tonight."
His father smiled faintly. "You're stronger than I ever was."
Nikhil didn't answer. He just held his father's hand.
The next morning, he arrived at the academy late. Devraj didn't scold him. He just handed him a ball.
"Bowling drills. Focus on line and length."
Nikhil nodded and walked to the nets. His movements were slower, his eyes tired. Kabir noticed.
"Trouble at home?" he asked, not unkindly.
Nikhil didn't respond.
Kabir shrugged. "You'll need more than grit to survive the trials."
Nikhil bowled. His first delivery was wide. Second, too short. Third, a full toss.
Devraj called him over. "What's wrong?"
Nikhil hesitated. "My father's sick. We can't afford treatment."
Devraj looked at him for a long moment. Then he said, "Go home. Take care of him. Come back tomorrow. But when you do—come back ready."
Nikhil nodded.
That night, he sat with his notebook. He didn't write goals or strategies. He wrote a letter.
"Dear Papa, I know you're tired. I know you're hurting. But I need you to hold on. Because I'm fighting—for both of us. I'll make it. I promise. Love, Nikhil"
He folded the letter and placed it beside his father's pillow.
The next morning, he woke before dawn. He ran five kilometers. Practiced shadow batting. Did push-ups until his arms shook.
Then he walked to Rana ji's shop.
"I need to rewrap Veer's grip," he said.
Rana ji smiled. "You're ready."
Nikhil nodded. "Not yet. But I'm getting there."