Just as Gauri tightened her hug around Charvi, a sharp voice cut through the fragile silence.
"Where were you, Gauri?" Gayatri's figure appeared at the doorway, arms folded, her eyes narrowing as they swept over her drenched clothes and shaken face. "Out in this rain for so long… or perhaps"—her lips curled into a cruel smile—"you were entertaining a client?"
Charvi flinched at the venom in her mother's tone. "Ma—" she began, but Gauri gently pressed her hand, silencing her.
"Stop it, Ma," Gauri's voice cracked, her shoulders trembling. She stood, her eyes shimmering with tears that finally spilled over. "I've had enough for one night. Because of you… because of your compulsion, I was insulted so much today."
Gayatri arched a brow, feigning ignorance. "Insulted? Who insulted you? Or are you ashamed of the work you chose to protect your dearest sister—?"
"Enough please!" Gauri's sob broke through, her hands clutching the towel to her chest. "Don't add to my woes, Ma. Please. I danced last night to protect Charvi, to keep her safe, and in return, I was treated like dirt. Humiliated in front of strangers… insulted for the very thing you forced me into."
Her words hung heavy in the small room, mixing with the steady patter of rain against the window. Charvi's eyes welled with tears, and even Gayatri faltered for a moment at the raw pain etched on her daughter's face.
But Gauri didn't wait for her mother's response. She turned away, sinking onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands as sobs racked her frame.
Charvi immediately knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her sister, whispering soothingly, "Didi… enough, please… I'm here."
As Vihaan stepped inside the Kothari mansion, the familiar cool marble floor felt strangely alien beneath his waterlogged shoes.
Veena's eyes widened in concern. "Arre! Vihaan, what happened? You're completely soaked!" Her voice held a worried tremor.
Vihaan plastered a casual smile on his face, though his heart was still reeling from the encounter with Gauri. "Just some work at the station. Unexpected downpour." He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
Raani chimed in, her tone holding gentle authority. "You should change immediately, Bhai. You'll catch a cold."
"Okay," Vihaan replied with a nod. "Going right now." He made his way towards the sweeping staircase, leaving a trail of damp footprints on the polished stone. The weight of his lie felt heavier with each step.
Once inside the privacy of his spacious room, the forced composure crumbled. He peeled off his wet clothes, the cool air raising goosebumps on his skin. But it wasn't the chill that made him shiver; it was the vivid memory of Gauri's desperate embrace, the sheer terror in her eyes as she clung to him. The image was imprinted behind his eyelids.
Lost in thought, he stared blankly at the massive, intricately carved wardrobe. Then, a flicker of his innate ability sparked within him. With a subtle shift in his gaze and a silent incantation, a faint golden shimmer enveloped the closet.
The heavy doors creaked open on their own, and clothes began to float out—a neatly folded silk kurta and pajama set hovering in the air before him. He reached out, the smooth fabric materializing into his hands. The mundane act of changing felt strangely surreal, almost sacrilegious, juxtaposed against the extraordinary and frightening events of the past hour.
As the silk kurta and pajama settled around him, a knock echoed on his door. Before he could answer, Yug and Raani entered, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Bhaiya," Yug began, his eyes searching his. "Did you rush out earlier because of Gauri?"
Raani's voice, softer but equally probing, followed, "Haan, Bhai. Is she alright?"
Vihaan met their gazes steadily, forcing a tone of professional detachment. "I went out because of my duty as a police officer. Nothing else." His voice was firm, allowing no room for doubt.
Raani's brow furrowed slightly. "But… is she alright?" she persisted gently.
Vihaan offered a brief nod. "Yes, she's fine. Everything is under control." He then let out a deliberate sigh, rubbing his temples. "I'm exhausted. It's been a long day. I just want to rest."
Yug exchanged a look with Raani, a silent understanding passing between them. "Alright, Bhaiya," Yug said softly. "Get some sleep."
Raani added, her voice filled with affection, "Good night, Bhai."
Vihaan offered a tired smile. "Good night." He watched as they quietly left the room, closing the door behind them. He leaned against the cool headboard, the weight of the disturbing encounter with Gauri still heavy in the air, even after their departure.
At the chawl
Charvi sat close to Gauri, studying her sister's tear-streaked face. Her brows knitted as she asked softly, "Didi… who insulted you? Tell me the truth."
At that, Gauri broke down completely, her voice cracking as she recounted everything—Veena's harsh words, Vihaan's scathing judgment, and the humiliation she had endured in that grand mansion. Each memory weighed heavier on her heart, spilling out with sobs she could no longer contain.
Charvi's own eyes glistened, but she reached out and pulled Gauri into a tight embrace. "Bas, didi… enough crying," she whispered, stroking her hair soothingly. "I know why you danced in that bar. You did it for me. You were scared for my life, my heart… and that's why you took my place."
She gently pulled back, cupping Gauri's face in her hands. "Don't you ever feel ashamed of that. Don't you dare think you're less because of what people say. You saved me, didi. You protected me. That is your truth, not their insults."
Gauri's lips trembled as more tears slipped down. "But, Charvi… the way they looked at me, the things they said…"
"Let them," Charvi interrupted firmly, her young voice carrying a strength beyond her years. "The world will always talk, but what matters is the truth between us. You're my sister, my protector, my everything. If anyone dares call you names, remember—I'll always know the truth, and I'll always stand by you."
Gauri broke into fresh sobs, this time burying her face against Charvi's shoulder—not from shame, but from the bittersweet relief of her sister's unwavering love.