Rachel Parulkar had never been cornered before.
Money had always spoken for her.
Names had always protected her.
But that single message—Singapore—had shattered her composure.
"She knows," Rachel hissed, pacing her penthouse. "She knows everything."
Her assistant swallowed. "Then we should lay low."
Rachel spun around. "No. If I disappear now, I look guilty."
Her eyes sharpened.
"We hit first."
At breakfast, Grandma Krishi announced calmly, "We'll go jewelry shopping today. For Twinkle's wedding."
Twinkle clapped excitedly. "Finally!"
Shruti hesitated. "All of us?"
"Yes," Sasha said. "Family goes together."
Najma's eyes flickered.
She smiled anyway. "I'll come."
The jewelry store gleamed with gold and diamonds.
Glass cases sparkled.
Twinkle tried on bangles, laughing.
Jodha admired earrings shyly.
Shruti touched the necklace at her throat unconsciously.
Najma stood slightly apart—watching reflections, exits, people.
Rachel's car slowed outside.
She watched through dark glasses.
"Now," she whispered.
The doors slammed shut.
Guns came out.
"Everyone down!" a man shouted.
Screams echoed.
Najma moved instantly—pulling Twinkle behind a counter.
Sasha stepped forward, voice sharp. "Do you know who we are?"
One thief laughed. "Today? You're just customers."
Another man grabbed Jodha, knife flashing at her neck.
"Bring the necklace," he demanded, eyes locked on Shruti.
Shruti's hands trembled.
"That's my wedding jewelry," she whispered. "My parents—"
"Shruti," Sasha said firmly, already removing her ring, "take mine."
"No," Shruti cried. "You can't—"
Sasha met the thief's gaze coldly. "This ring is worth more than that necklace. Take it and let her go."
The thief hesitated.
Jodha stared at Sasha in shock.
"You… you care?" Jodha whispered.
Sasha didn't look back. "Family doesn't bargain with lives."
That's when Najma moved.
She struck fast—elbow, wrist, knee.
Twinkle followed, smashing a display into another man's face.
Alarms screamed.
Guards fell.
By the time police sirens wailed outside, the thieves were tied up—groaning.
Najma's arm bled.
Twinkle's lip was split.
But they were standing.
Outside, Rachel watched the chaos on the news screen in her car.
Her hands shook.
"That wasn't supposed to happen," she whispered.
No.
It wasn't.