The mansion was too organised.
Too controlled.
Rajveer stood at the dining table, staring at six chairs.
Only five were occupied.
"Where is Reyansh?" he asked casually.
Savita sipped her tea.
"Boarding school."
"Already?"
A pause.
"He needed discipline."
Rajveer didn't respond.
But he did not eat.
Across the table, Aria's fork clinked against porcelain.
Too loud in the silence.
"Dadi," she said calmly, "which school?"
Savita's eyes lifted.
"You question me now?"
"I want to write to him."
"You focus on your studies."
Aria didn't lower her gaze.
The air tightened.
Later that evening—
Arjun cornered Savita in the corridor.
"You sent them away without telling me."
"It was not your decision to make."
"They are not soldiers to deploy."
Savita's cane struck the marble floor sharply.
"They are Ahirs. They do not grow soft."
Arjun stepped closer.
"For the first time in my life," he said quietly, "I feel like I don't know what happened in this house."
Savita held his gaze.
"Then perhaps you should trust your mother."
But her fingers tightened around the cane.
In the study, Vikram worked late.
He bypassed household security logs.
Minor changes.
Deleted entries.
Transport records.
All authorised under Savita's clearance.
He leaned back slowly.
"Why hide school transfers?" he muttered.
Upstairs, Anjali confronted Rajveer.
"You know something is wrong."
Rajveer rubbed his temples.
"Your mother wouldn't—"
"She would," Anjali cut in.
The word hung heavy.
That night, Savita stood alone in the grand hall.
The house was silent.
But in her ears—
The children's cries returned.
"Mama!"
She closed her eyes.
Just for a second.
When she opened them, her face was stone again.
"This was necessary," she whispered.
Yet across the mansion—
Doubt had taken root.
And doubt grows.