Author's POV

Then Ryan moved toward Saaisha’s aunt and uncle.

His boots echoed across the cold floor as he walked, slow and deliberate. He dragged a metal chair and placed it right in front of them with a harsh screech.

The sound alone made them flinch. Neither dared to meet his gaze. Both trembled, their eyes downcast, like children caught doing something forbidden.

Ryan sat down, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locked on the two people who had once called themselves guardians.

Veer stepped up beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Siya stood in the back with her arms folded, her jaw tight. And Shaurya—he didn’t speak yet, but his silence was heavier than the room itself.

With a soft, almost mocking tone, Veer broke the stillness, “Why are you scaring them, Shaitaan?” he asked, using Ryan’s underworld name with a cold smile. “They didn’t even know what happened… right?”

Ryan tilted his head slowly. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s introduce them, shall we?”

He leaned forward slightly, voice low and dangerous.

“Will you not ask… who he was?”

The couple remained silent, shaking their heads in denial.

Ryan chuckled, but there was no humour in it. Only disgust.

“Still repeating old mistakes, hmm?” he asked, eyes narrowing, his voice dipped in warning.

They remained frozen, lips sealed.

“I said ask me who he was!” Ryan suddenly barked, slamming his hand on the table between them. The sound made them jump.

With shaking lips, they whispered, barely audible, “W-Who was he?”

Shaurya’s voice cut through the air then, calm but sharp like a blade.

“He is a rapist.”

He took a slow step forward, and both their eyes darted to him.

“You know who he raped?” he asked.

Their mouths parted, but only broken breath escaped.

“No…” came a whisper. Trembling. Unwilling.

Shaurya stopped right in front of them, his eyes merciless.

“He raped your niece, Saaisha.”

Their heads shot up.

The uncle’s eyes widened in disbelief, his voice desperate.

“No… You’re lying. That can’t be true.”

Shaurya's eyes didn’t flicker. “Why would I lie?” he said, voice colder than stone.

“Do you think this is a game? Do you think we brought you here for fun? If you had even checked on her once—just once—maybe she wouldn’t have gone through this hell. Maybe we could’ve found her earlier. Maybe she wouldn’t have been left for dead!”

The uncle staggered back, his breath hitching, face crumbling.

“No… She’s fine. She’s happy. Living in her apartment—safe,” he muttered like a prayer, as if saying it enough would make it true.

He turned to his wife, voice breaking. “Tell him! She’s safe, right? You were the one who said she needed freedom. You said she’d be happy living alone. Why are you quiet now?!”

His voice cracked. He choked on his own breath.

“She is my daughter too… you know that, don’t you? My Saaishu… My little girl. She used to call me Chote papa with so much love. And what did I become? A man too wrapped up in his own life to notice the silence in hers. When we couldn’t become parents… she was the one who filled that space. She called us Choti Maa and Chote Papa… and I forgot that.”

He dropped to his knees and began hitting his own forehead, sobbing. “Why did I listen to you?! Why did I stop checking on her?!”

His wife—Saaisha’s Choti Maa—was already in tears, but now she collapsed to the floor beside him, her voice hoarse with guilt.

“Yes… it’s all my fault,” she cried. “I forgot who she was to us. I forgot how she used to hold my hand at night when I cried because I couldn’t conceive. When we had our own children… I started to see her as a burden. I became jealous of her! Jealous of an orphaned girl who only wanted love.”

She sobbed harder now, each word cracking her voice.

“I thought you were giving her too much attention. I thought you were wasting money when you brought her gifts. I started giving her less food, less love… and when she noticed, she didn’t argue. She just… left. Quietly. Without a word.”

Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her heart.

“And I was relieved.”

“I felt relieved when she left. I told myself it was for the best. I didn’t even ask where she was going. I didn’t even check.”

“And today…” she looked up with swollen eyes, “you’re telling me… that little girl... she was raped?! No… no, she can’t be…Please tell us she is safe..”

Shaurya stood still. Silent. Unforgiving.

His jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides.

But he didn’t speak.

Because when Saaisha needed them… they had chosen silence.

When she quietly packed her pain and walked out, they let her go.

They never asked where, never wondered why. They had a chance to care and they didn’t.

And now…

Now they would suffer in silence.

They would drown in the questions they never asked.

In the answers they may never receive.

He didn’t want them to know how she was doing.

He wanted that uncertainty to eat them alive.

He wanted them to imagine the worst and live with that torment.

Because that’s what they made her live with… every single day.

Without a single word, Shaurya turned his back and walked out of the room.

Behind him, Veer, Siya, and Ryan followed quietly, no one dared to break the silence.

They washed the blood from their hands. Changed their stained clothes.

And without looking back…

They made their way to the Rathore Mansion.

As they entered the Rathore Mansion, the weight of the torture room—the blood, the screams, the confessions—seemed to loosen its grip.

Because right in front of them, Saaisha was running.

Her anklets clinked softly with each step, and her hair flew behind her as she darted across the hall, a rare flicker of lightness in her eyes.

Behind her, Meera Rathore was chasing her with mock anger.

“Ruko zara! You think you can escape me?”

Rajveer, lounging near the couch, clapped and laughed.

“Run beta, run! Don’t let your mother win!”

Meera glared at him mid-chase, “Aapko toh mai baad mein dekh lungi. First, I’ll catch her!”

But just as Saaisha turned around, Meera suddenly stopped and clutched her leg, letting out a soft wince.

Saaisha paused. Her smile faded instantly. She hurried back, eyes wide with concern, and crouched down beside her.

She gently touched Meera’s ankle, worry etched across her face. Her brows furrowed, lips parted slightly.

She looked up at Meera with panicked eyes, mouthing—Are you okay?

Meera’s heart clenched.

This girl,this silent girl who had every reason to shut the world out—ran back for her.

And before the moment grew too serious, Meera grinned mischievously, pinched Saaisha’s ear, and said,

“Pakad liya!”

Saaisha blinked. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes widened in shock. Then realization dawned. Her shoulders relaxed, and a small pout formed on her lips.

Rajveer stepped in with a dramatic frown.

“Arey! you’re teasing her? Leave my daughter alone!” he said, pulling Saaisha into a side hug.

For a moment, just a moment, Saaisha froze.

The warmth of a father's arm… It was something she hadn't felt in years.

Slowly, she relaxed resting her head gently against his chest. Her eyes closed for a second. Just to feel it.

A kind of peace filled the room.

Then Siya walked in, raising a brow at the scene.

“Kya chal raha hai yahan? Maa, why are you harassing my poor little sister?”

“She’s no angel, Siya! Do you even know what this girl did today?” Meera said with mock outrage.

“What?” Siya asked curiously.

Meera grabbed a folded sheet from the table and handed it over. The moment Siya unfolded it, a loud laugh burst from her throat.

“Mom! Aap.…”

She held her stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

Rajveer again peeked and let out a loud chuckle too.

Even Saaisha’s lips curled into a soft smile.

Veer, Ryan, and Shaurya stepped closer, curious.

On the paper was a cartoonish sketch: a chubby woman (clearly Meera) sitting triumphantly on top of a man (clearly Rajveer).

Veer broke into laughter.

Looking at Meera, he teased, “Sorry pretty lady, but this is funny!”

Shaurya chuckled softly, his lips tugging into a rare smile.

Even Ryan—stoic, composed but he too couldn't stop the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

But Shaurya’s eyes weren’t on the paper anymore.

They were on Saaisha standing beside Rajveer, her eyes lit with mischief, her smile radiant, her presence alive.

And in that moment… something in him softened.

She was not just breathing anymore.

She was living.

She was laughing.

Feeling his gaze, Saaisha looked up and met his eyes.

She held it for a second. Then gave a small smile… and looked away.

Shaurya stood a few steps behind them all.

The laughter still echoed in the hall—the kind that didn’t come from happiness alone, but from healing, from slowly mending what had once been shattered.

His eyes lingered on Saaisha, the way she was held close by his father, the way his mother fussed over her, the way Siya teased and Veer chuckled from the sidelines.

And quietly… he thought:

Family should never be defined by blood.

It should be defined by those who make you feel safe.

By those who look at your scars and say  "You're still worthy of love."

By those who don’t ask what you can offer… but stay when you have nothing left.

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening.

I’m lucky, he thought, blessed to have parents like them — who never let the world harden them, no matter how much it hurt.

But then his eyes found Veer.

Found Ryan.

And now… Saaisha.

People who weren’t as lucky.

People who were torn open by the very ones who were supposed to protect them.

People who learned that blood isn’t thicker than pain.

Veer, who grew up in the shadow of a father that never once saw him as enough.

Ryan, who was made into a weapon by the very hands that should’ve cradled him.

And now Saaisha…

A girl who was abandoned, betrayed, and broken — all by the ones who once called her beti.

And yet…

They’re still here.

Still trying. Still breathing. Still fighting to trust again.

A faint smile touched Shaurya’s lips.

That’s what makes a family — not names on a tree or DNA in a lab. But the people who stand beside you when your world is silent.

The ones who become your voice when you’ve lost yours.

The ones who remind you: you’re never a burden. You belong.

And as he looked at them—his people, he realized…

Maybe this isn’t just a mansion.

Maybe this is home.

Maybe this... is family.

But then, one sight caught Shaurya’s eyes and made his chest tighten.

His father.

The way Rajveer was looking at Saaisha… it wasn’t just affection.

There was warmth, yes.
Care, yes.
But beneath all of that… something else.

Something heavier.

Longing.

Not the kind you feel for the present… but for the past.

The kind that aches silently.

The kind that searches the face of someone new… for traces of someone who’s gone.

Shaurya knew that look.

Knew it too well.

It was the look of a man who had made peace with loss

but hadn’t stopped wishing.

And in that moment, Saaisha didn’t even know what she was giving just by standing there.

A flicker of something lost.

A fragile illusion of something that can never truly come back.

Shaurya looked away. His throat ached.

Some voids… they don’t ask to be filled.

But sometimes, they find shadows to rest in—if only for a moment.
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