The grand hall, which only hours ago had been a theater of brilliant deception, was now a chamber of cold, suffocating dread.
The marigold garlands, once symbols of a clever ruse, now looked like withered funeral rites. Rudransh didn't wait for a stretcher or a chair; he gathered Shivika's limp, surprisingly light form against his chest and bolted up the stone stairs. His breath came in ragged, panicked hitches that echoed off the high ceilings. Behind him, the village women didn't disperse; they gathered in a tight, fearful knot, their hushed prayers filling the cavernous void where Khanna's arrogance had so recently stood.
Recently, my brother was diagnosed with cancer. Earlier, I used to write purely for fun, but Iโve now made some chapters paid to help support my family during this time. Iโm not sharing this for sympathy, only to ask for your support so that finances donโt become a hurdle in his treatment. Thank you for standing by me.
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