The door banged open at 9:12 a.m.
Not knocked.Not tapped.Banged.
I was still folding the last of Amma's old sarees when Vihaan Mehra walked into my room like he had a right to be there.
He looked out of place — all linen shirt, smartwatch, and guilt.His eyes scanned the rusted fan, the cracked floor, the wall that had been repainted using leftover festival powder.And then, finally, he looked at me.
"Kalyani," he said, like he wasn't sure if he had permission to say my name.
I raised one eyebrow. "Did the GPS break? Or did you come here to tell me I dropped a diamond necklace by mistake?"
He flinched.Good.
"No," he said. "I came to apologize."
I didn't speak.I let the silence sit in the room like a witness.
Vihaan looked nervous. Like someone who had been sent here, not someone who came on his own.
"I didn't know they were going to throw you out like that," he continued."They didn't even tell me until it happened. Aryan and Kabir—"
"Stop," I said quietly.
He froze.
"You're not here because of guilt," I said. "You're here because your PR team told you to come."
His mouth opened. Closed.He didn't deny it.
I walked to the window and stared out at the street, watching a little girl in school uniform chasing after a kite made of stitched newspaper.
"Let me guess," I said."Aryan wants to make a statement. Kabir wants to blame it on the lab. Your father wants to donate to a girls' shelter in my name."
Still no denial.
"I went viral again, didn't I?" I asked, turning.
Vihaan nodded slowly. "You're trending. Everywhere."
"And now they're scared."
"They're… trying to fix it."
I gave him a small smile — not bitter, not sweet. Just real.
"They broke it, Vihaan. Not me. And they can't fix me like I'm one of their cars."
He looked down.And for the first time, I saw something real in his eyes.
Not strategy. Not shame.But maybe… something like sorrow.
"I should've spoken up for you," he said.
I nodded. "Yes. You should've."
We stared at each other for a long second.Maybe in another life, we would've been friends.But in this one, he stood silent while I was publicly thrown out in slippers.
So I picked up my bag and opened the door for him.
"Go home, Vihaan," I said."Tell your brothers the same thing."
He didn't argue.He didn't beg.
He just stepped out quietly, and for a moment before he left, he said something so soft I almost missed it.
"You're brighter out here than you ever were inside."
And then he was gone.
I locked the door behind him.
And smiled.
Because now I knew for sure:
They didn't throw me out.They set me free.And they're just now realizing… the world prefers me this way.