All day, Karan remained outside.
He stood beside the car, arms crossed, unmoving. The sky above had turned heavy—dark clouds gathering, wind sweeping through the silent grounds, distant thunder rolling like a warning.
Rajveer never stepped out of the house.
Time passed, but Karan didn't move.
Only his thoughts did.
A memory surfaced—uninvited, but vivid.
A small boy sat outside a broken house, knees pulled close, eyes wet with tears. Inside, voices clashed—his parents shouting, anger tearing through the walls.
Then—
Silence.
The door opened.
His father stepped out, eyes red, voice shaking. "She… she ran away…"
People gathered. Neighbors whispered. Some pitied. Others judged.
Then came the laughter.
Children.
Cruel, careless laughter.
"Your mother ran away with her lover!"
"Left you behind!"
The boy lowered his head, fists clenched—but he said nothing.
Until—
A girl stepped forward.
Small. Fierce.
She pushed the others away, standing between him and the laughter. "Go away!" she shouted, her voice stronger than theirs.
The children scattered.
She turned back to him, her anger gone—replaced with a soft smile.
"Don't cry, Karan."
She stepped closer and hugged him, small arms wrapping around him with quiet certainty.
"I'm always here for you."
She pulled him along, but when they reached his house, they stopped.
Inside, his father lay on the floor—drunk, unconscious.
So they stayed outside.
"Did you eat?" she asked.
Karan shook his head.
"I knew it," she said, almost proudly. She opened a small tiffin box she had brought. "That's why I brought food."
With her tiny hands, she fed him.
"If they tease you again," she added, "tell me. I'll teach them a lesson."
The memory lingered—
Then shattered.
"Here… have some tea."
Karan's eyes opened.
Malvek stood beside him, holding out a cup.
"I don't think sir will go anywhere today," he said. "You can rest… think of it as your chutti."
Karan took the cup. "Thank you."
Nothing more.
Malvek nodded and walked away.
The sky grew darker.
By evening, thunder cracked louder, and the first drops of rain began to fall.
At exactly seven, Rajveer stepped out onto the terrace of his room, a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled into the stormy air as his gaze fell on Karan below.
"Karan," he called out, voice steady. "Take the car. Go home. Come tomorrow."
Karan looked up. "Okay, sir."
No questions.
He got into the car and drove away.
—
By the time he reached home, the rain had turned heavy.
The small gate creaked as he pushed it open. Water splashed beneath his feet as he walked inside and unlocked the door.
The moment he stepped in—
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Karan pulled out his phone, switching on the flashlight. The beam cut through the shadows as he moved toward the kitchen. He lit a candle, the small flame flickering against the storm outside.
Thunder roared.
Holding the candle, he walked down toward the storeroom.
The air felt colder there.
He stepped inside, moving toward the fridge. His hand reached for the handle—
And suddenly—
Arms wrapped around him from behind.
"You're late."
Karan turned instantly.
Ananya.
She stood there, smiling, holding onto him tightly.
Karan said,"Your father was worried about you"
"Shh…"
She pressed a finger gently against his lips, silencing him.
Before he could react, she stepped closer and kissed him.
Karan didn't resist.
He lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist, holding her firmly as he carried her out of the storeroom.
The storm raged outside.
But inside—
Everything had already changed.Karan lay on his bed, his gaze fixed on Ananya.
She was above him, her hair falling softly around her face, her eyes locked into his—deep, intense, almost possessive. The dim candlelight flickered beside them, casting shadows that danced across the walls.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Ananya leaned down slowly, her lips brushing against his neck, lingering there with quiet warmth. Her movements were unhurried, as if time itself had slowed inside that room.
Karan's hand rested lightly at her side, his expression calm—but his eyes carried something heavier.
"What if your father finds out you're here…" he said softly.
Ananya stopped.
She lifted her head and looked at him—really looked at him.
There was no fear in her eyes.
Only certainty.
"He won't," she said quietly. "Nobody will."
Her fingers traced lightly along his shoulder as she continued, her voice dropping into something darker, more intense.
"This is our world… just you and me."
The storm outside rumbled, thunder echoing faintly through the walls.
"Nobody is allowed to come here."
She leaned closer again, her gaze unwavering.
"And if someone does…"
A faint smile touched her lips—beautiful, but unsettling.
"I'll kill them."
The words hung in the air, soft yet chilling.
Then, without breaking eye contact, she reached to the side—
And blew out the candle.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Only the sound of rain remained.