Morning came quietly.
Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, pulling Kinjal out of sleep. She sat up slowly, the room still unfamiliar but not as suffocating as before.
What lingered wasn't fear - it was the memory of sound.
A guitar. Slow. Gentle. Almost soothing.
She pushed the thought aside, telling herself it was probably exhaustion.
From somewhere below came the faint sounds of the house waking up - utensils, footsteps, low movement. Normal sounds. Everyday sounds.
Kinjal stayed seated for a moment, breathing evenly, letting the morning settle around her.
Then she stood up.
She freshened up quickly, the warm water washing away the last traces of sleep.
By the time she stepped out, tying her hair back, the house felt awake.
She was just about to head back to her room when-
a sudden thud echoed from downstairs.
Kinjal froze.
The sound came again - softer this time, followed by a faint groan.
Kinjal's breath hitched.
She didn't think. She just moved.
Barefoot, she hurried down the stairs, her hand brushing the railing for balance. The kitchen came into view - and so did Sushma di, seated awkwardly on the floor near the counter, one hand pressed to her knee.
"Sushma Dii-" Kinjal rushed to her side, crouching immediately. "What happened?"
Sushma di tried to wave it off, forcing a smile that didn't quite hold.
"Bas... pair phisal gaya. Kuch nahi hua."
But she was breathing unevenly, clearly shaken.
Kinjal gently helped her up, guiding her to the nearby chair. She brought her a glass of water, her movements steady, practiced - as if panic had
been switched off somewhere inside her.
"Please sit comfortably," she said softly. "I'm here."
Sushma di looked at her then, really looked - surprised, a little relieved.
"I'm fine now," Sushma di said after a moment, placing the glass aside. "It was just a little slip."
She slowly stood up. "Breakfast still needs to be made. It's almost Rudra baba's waking time."
She had barely taken a step when her expression changed. Her hand went to her leg, and she stopped.
"Ah-" she muttered, then carefully sat back down on the chair.
Kinjal noticed immediately.
"You're in pain," she said softly. "How will you manage like this?"
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The kitchen fell silent.
Then Kinjal added, gently but firmly,
"You should rest. I'll make breakfast."
Sushma di looked at her, unsure. "Are you sure?"
Kinjal nodded. "Yes. You sit. I'll take care of it."
Kinjal stood still for a moment, looking around the kitchen.
Her mind ran through possibilities-what she could make, what would take too long, what she could manage.
She turned to Sushma di.
"Dii... how much time do I have?"
Sushma di thought for a second. "Rudra baba will wake up soon, but he takes his time. Freshens up, checks his phone, moves around a bit."
She waved her hand lightly. "You have about an hour."
Kinjal nodded to herself.
Enough time, she thought.
"Then I'll make something that needs a little time," she said quietly.
Sushma di looked at her with mild curiosity. "What are you thinking of?"
Kinjal looked around the kitchen once more, then turned to Sushma di.
"I'll make thepla," she said. "Something simple."
Sushma di nodded immediately, relief clear on her face.
"Haan, thepla is good. Everyone eats that."

Kinjal washed her hands and began pulling things together. Flour, a few spices, oil. Nothing fancy.
Nothing unfamiliar. Sushma di stayed seated nearby, occasionally pointing things out, correcting measurements, but mostly just watching.
The kitchen slowly filled with the soft rhythm of movement - rolling pins tapping lightly, a pan heating, the quiet crackle as the first thepla touched the surface.
It felt... normal
By the time the plate began to fill, the smell had already travelled beyond the kitchen.
Breakfast was almost ready.
By the time the last thepla came off the pan, Kinjal's shoulders had finally relaxed.
She stacked them neatly, covering the plate with a cloth. For a brief second, she closed her eyes.
"Hey Somnath... I hope they like it," she murmured to herself.
For those few minutes, the fear loosened its grip.
She felt almost normal-just a girl in a kitchen, hoping she'd done something right.
She had barely stepped back from the counter when footsteps echoed from the front door...
"Good morning," Pankhuri's familiar voice drifted in.
Kinjal froze for half a second, then wiped her hands quickly and stepped back from the counter.
Pankhuri walked in first, glancing around. "Something smells... really good."
Adi followed right behind her, sniffing the air dramatically.
"Really good?" he repeated. "No, no. This smells suspiciously good."
Sushma di looked up from her chair. "Suspicious why?"
Adi grinned. "Because whenever food smells this nice, it's never what I'm expecting."
Pankhuri laughed, already moving toward the table. "I was starving anyway. I'll eat first, then go check on Kinjal."
She stopped mid-step, looking at the plates.
"...Wait."
Adi leaned over her shoulder. "Hold on. Since when do we get thepla here?"
Sushma di frowned. "Maine nahi banaya."
Both of them looked up at the same time.
Pankhuri's gaze shifted toward the kitchen.
Kinjal stood there, a little unsure, her hands clasped together.
Adi blinked once. Then twice.
"You?"
Kinjal nodded slightly. "Sushma di slipped. I just... made something simple."
Adi stared at the plate like it had personally offended him.
"Simple?" he muttered. "I come here every day and survive on toast."
Pankhuri smiled softly. "You didn't have to."
Kinjal shrugged, uncomfortable. "It was nothing."
From the doorway, Rudra had stopped without anyone noticing.
He took in the scene-the table, the food, the faint ease in the air-then said only one thing:
"Eat before it gets cold."
That was all.
And somehow, that was enough.
Rudra took a bite without comment.
For a moment, no one said anything.
Then he reached for another piece.
"That answers it," Adi said, grinning. "If he's eating twice, it's good."
Pankhuri smiled, settling into her chair. "You should eat too," she told Kinjal gently.
Kinjal hesitated, then sat down, taking a small piece for herself.
The conversation drifted-nothing important, nothing heavy. Just plates clinking, Adi's unnecessary commentary, Pankhuri laughing, and for once, no silence that felt sharp.
For a few minutes, it felt like breakfast.
Not an arrangement. Not a situation.
Just breakfast.
Breakfast ended without ceremony.
Plates were slowly cleared, chairs pushed back, the easy chatter fading into comfortable quiet. Adi was the first to stand, stretching like he'd done something exhausting.
"I swear, I come here for food more than friendship," he said casually.
Pankhuri rolled her eyes. "At least be honest about it."
Sushma di gathered the plates, waving Kinjal away when she tried to help. "Tum rehne do. Aaram karo."
Kinjal nodded and stepped back, unsure where to place herself now that the table was empty.
Rudra checked his phone once, then slipped it back into his pocket. "I have work," he said, already turning away. No explanation, no pause-just a statement.
"I'll go too," Pankhuri added. "Hospital's calling."
Adi clapped his hands together. "Duty calls for everyone except me."
They moved toward the door, the house shifting again-back to its usual stillness.
Kinjal stood there for a second longer, then quietly went upstairs.
Her room welcomed her with silence.
She sat on the edge of the bed, fingers twisting together in her lap. The morning had been... lighter than she'd expected. Almost normal.
And that thought made her uneasy.
Because normal never lasted.
She lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling, letting the medicine pull her under-
hoping sleep would come before the fear did.
This chapter was meant to be soft-a pause between moments.
Thank you for reading and staying with the story 🤍
Something new awaits in the next chapter.