The house once smelled like haldi, soap, and Sonali's floral oil. Now it stank of Neha's cheap perfume and rotting silence.
On the third day after Sonali's funeral, the Patil family's door opened again —
but this time, it wasn't family walking in.
It was the enemy.
Neha stepped in like she was walking a red carpet. Red lipstick. Orange saree. Anklets clinking with every shameless step.
Behind her were her children — Nisha and Kunjal — holding schoolbags and egos like weapons.
Khushi stood at the staircase, frozen. "What is she doing here?"
Sanjay followed in last, a calm mask stretched across his face.
"This is her home now," he said.
Aai's soul hadn't even cooled… and he was already replacing her?
"This Is Not a Home Anymore"
Pandurang stormed into the living room.
"You brought your mistress into this house? Into the house where your wife died?!"
"She wasn't happy," Sanjay replied, dead cold.
"She was weak."
Khushi's fists clenched.
"Don't you dare call her weak! She died because you broke her heart!"
Namrata's voice cracked. "Sanjay, this woman—she destroyed our family!"
Neha interrupted with a fake smile.
"I'm here to rebuild it."
She turned to Khushi.
"And you, sweetheart. Time to learn your place."
Khushi didn't blink.
"I know exactly where I stand. At my mother's side. You'll never be anything but the shadow of what she was."
Neha's smile faded.
"Let's see how long you keep that fire, girl."
New Rules. New Roles.
By the next morning, everything had changed.
Sonali's photos were gone.
Her name wasn't mentioned again.
Sanjay laid down the new rules at breakfast.
Khushi would now clean the house daily.
Ron would do chores — polish shoes, mop floors.
The storeroom was now their new bedroom.
Neha and her kids got the master bedroom.
"No school until further notice," Sanjay said.
"You can study when your duties are done."
Khushi's voice was sharp.
"We're not your servants."
Neha walked closer. "Oh? And who's going to stop me, beta?"
Khushi locked eyes with her.
"My Aai's ghost, if no one else."
First Slap
Nisha made it her mission to torment them.
She tripped Ron, threw his books in the dustbin, and once smeared ketchup on Khushi's only white kurti.
One evening, as Khushi read under the flickering tube light, Nisha grabbed the book.
"You still think you're top of the class? Wake up, Cinderella."
"Give it back," Khushi said, standing.
Nisha slapped her.
The sound cracked through the hallway like thunder.
Khushi didn't cry.
She just picked up the book from the floor, wiped her lip, and looked her in the eye.
"Hit me again, Nisha. And I'll bury your hand where the sun doesn't shine."
The Breaking Point
One night, Ron came into the storeroom crying.
"I told Neha aunty I missed Aai… she locked me in the bathroom for one hour."
Khushi grabbed a towel and held him tight.
"Don't talk to her. Don't trust them. Only me, okay?"
Ron sniffled. "Okay, Tai. I'm scared."
"I'm not," she whispered. "Not anymore."
That same night, she pulled her old books out from under the bed.
She read by candlelight.
She studied in whispers.
She remembered Aai's voice in her head:
"Be fire, not ash."
🧓 Grandfather's Blessing
Pandurang crept into the room late at night.
He placed a steel tiffin near Khushi.
"I saw what she did. I saw everything," he said softly.
Khushi looked up.
"Ajoba, why don't you stop them?"
"I tried. Your father's not the boy I raised. He's become... someone else."
He placed a hand on her head.
"But you, Khushi... you're stronger than all of us combined."
Khushi didn't cry.
She didn't scream.
She made a vow.
"You want me to fail? I'll top the country."
"You want me to break? I'll rise higher."
"You want me to disappear? I'll become unforgettable."
That night, she didn't sleep.
She prepared her battle.
The war had begun.
Not outside.
But inside the house she once called home.
END OF CHAPTER 3