The first rays of dawn spilled softly into Mahi’s bedroom, turning the pale curtains to gold. Her phone buzzed gently on the nightstand, slicing through the stillness like a whisper. Sleep still clung to her lashes as she reached out with hope tugging at her heart, only to find Athrav’s name glowing on the screen.

Her pulse quickened.

She answered at once, her voice still heavy with slumber.

"Mahi, I’m so sorry I missed your call yesterday."

Athrav’s voice was warm, apologetic—like a familiar embrace across the distance.

Her eyes fluttered fully open at the sound of him. Relief spread through her like sunlight.

"It’s okay," she murmured, voice soft. "I just wanted to hear you."

"I know," he replied gently. "Work completely overtook me yesterday. I didn’t even realize how much time had passed. But I’m calling now because... there’s something I want to tell you."

He chose not to burden her with details—the stress of meetings, the emotional toll of witnessing Mr. Rajvanshi’s private crisis, or the weight of a sick woman’s pain. Some worries, he believed, could stay on his shoulders alone.

Mahi’s breath hitched faintly.
"What is it?"

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, his voice filled with something between joy and longing.

"I’m coming back. In two days."

The simple sentence landed like a promise. Her heart surged.

"Really?" she whispered, the corners of her lips trembling into a smile. "I’ve missed you so much."

"I’ve missed you too," he said, his voice almost a hush. "Being away made me realize just how much you and Adu mean to me. I don’t want to lose time anymore. When I get back… I want us to live more—really live, Mahi. Not just in moments, but in memories."

Tears spilled quietly from Mahi’s eyes, joy swelling in her chest.

"I feel the same way. We’ll make time. We’ll make everything count."

"I’m counting on that," he said with a soft chuckle. "I’ll be home soon. Just wait for me."

As the call ended, Mahi remained still for a while, phone resting against her chest, heart warm with the anticipation of his return. In that peaceful morning light, she knew their reunion wouldn’t just be a homecoming—it would be a new chapter. One carved from hope, strength, and love reborn.

The day unfolded like any other at school—until it didn’t.

In a secluded corner of the playground, Advait stood facing a circle of boys. Among them was Raj, sharp-tongued and smirking, his words like poison wrapped in laughter.

"Look, it’s the charity case again," Raj sneered. "Do you even belong here?"

Advait stiffened, fists curling at his sides. He fought to steady his breath, blinking fast to keep the tears at bay.

"Stop it, Raj. That’s not true."

The boys laughed louder. Raj pressed on, encouraged by their reactions.

"Not true? Tell me where your father works—some fancy place like mine? Your mom goes shopping in Paris, right? Or do you guys eat out in 5-star hotels every weekend?"

Laughter erupted again.

Advait’s face flushed red—not with shame, but rage.

"Raj… enough." His voice trembled, not from fear, but restraint.

"Oh look, now the charity kid speaks! Hey everyone, crybaby wants to act tough!"

Some kids giggled, others looked away, uncomfortable but too afraid to intervene. Not one stepped forward.

"I said—" Advait’s voice cracked louder, "ENOUGH!"

He stormed forward and grabbed Raj by the collar, small hands clenched but steady.

Gasps rang out.

"Apologize. Now. You don’t get to insult my parents. Being rich doesn’t give you that right."

Raj wriggled in his grasp, glaring.

"You’ve got a big mouth, you orphan brat—complain all you want, I’ll still say whatever I—"

He didn’t finish.

Advait's fist landed squarely on Raj's face, a punch powered by every ounce of anger and hurt he'd carried.

Raj stumbled back, clutching his cheek, a tooth clattering to the ground. He whimpered, pain overwhelming his arrogance.

"Oww! M-Mom!" he cried.

Advait released him, chest heaving but gaze unwavering. He didn’t regret it. Not yet.

Minutes later, the aftermath unfolded inside Principal Kapoor’s office. The air was thick with tension.

Mahi sat beside her son, looking both worried and composed. Across from them sat Raj’s parents—Mr. and Mrs. Sharma—bristling with indignation.

"I can’t believe what your son has done!" Mrs. Sharma barked. "This is unacceptable. It’s disgraceful behavior."

Mahi folded her hands gently, offering a composed nod.

"I understand, and I’m sorry. I’ll speak to Advait about it."

Principal Kapoor raised a hand for calm.

"We must resolve this with dignity. Advait, you owe Raj an apology."

But Advait shook his head slowly.

"I didn’t start this. He said horrible things about my parents. I couldn’t take it anymore."

"You’re teaching your child violence?" Mr. Sharma snapped, stepping forward with a glare. "If this happens again, I’ll make sure your husband's career suffers. Understand me?"

His voice was sharp, intended to intimidate.

But before Mahi could respond, Principal Kapoor stood abruptly.

"Mr. Sharma! That’s not how we address anyone here—especially not Mrs. Khurana."

Mr. Sharma fell silent, silenced more by the principal’s authority than his own regret.

Mrs. Sharma huffed, dragging Raj by the arm toward the exit.

"Let’s go!" she snapped, throwing Mahi a final glare before storming out.

As the office quieted, Principal Kapoor looked at Mahi with softened eyes.

"I hope this won’t happen again. Advait is a bright boy—I’d hate to see this affect his future."

"It won’t," Mahi promised. "We’ll handle it at home."

As they stepped out into the corridor, the silence between mother and son spoke volumes. Mahi walked slowly, her thoughts storming beneath her calm exterior. Advait trailed beside her, eyes downcast.

Finally, he looked up at her, guilt swimming in his gaze.

"I’m sorry, Mumma," he said in a small voice. "He was saying awful things about you and Papa. I got so angry... I just couldn’t hold it in."

Mahi stopped, kneeling down in front of him. She cupped his cheeks, brushing a thumb over his damp lashes.

"Adu baby, you have every right to feel hurt. But violence is never the answer. You surprised me today—not because you stood up for us, but because I saw a side of you I didn’t expect. A side I want you to understand and control."

Tears welled up in his eyes again.

"I promise, Mumma... I won’t hit anyone again. I’ll be good. I just didn’t want anyone to say bad things about us."

"I know," she whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. "And I’m proud of you for speaking up. But next time, let your words be your strength—not your fists."

"Okay, Mumma." He wrapped his arms around her neck, whispering, "I’ll be better."

Advait held his little hands tightly around the phone, his thumb fumbling as he tapped Papa’s number. His heart thudded fast in his tiny chest. The phone rang once… twice… then clicked. Papa answered.

He had called quickly after seeing Mumma leave for grocery shopping.

“Papa… I’m sowwy…” his voice trembled, barely more than a whisper.

“Hey, Adu! What happened, champ?” Atharv’s voice was calm, gentle.

“Papa… my fwiend Raj… he said I’m a chawity kid… and then… I hit him.” His words came out in a rush, laced with sobs.

Atharv stayed quiet, listening, letting his son speak without interruption.

“Teacher told Mumma… and Raj’s papa came too. He was vewy angwy. He shouted at Mumma and said… he’ll make you lose your job. Papa, I’m so scawed.”

Atharv’s heart clenched. He took a deep breath.

“Adu beta… listen to Papa. Don’t be scared. But tell me—why did you hit him? Hmm?”

“He said mean things. He called me poow... said I don't belong in school.” Advait sniffled. “I didn’t want to be bad… I just… I got so mad.”

“I know, baby. But you know what? When people say bad things, we don’t have to believe them. We don’t hit, okay? We talk to our teacher… or to Mumma or Papa. People talk, but we stay kind. Right?”

“Yes, Papa... I pwomise.”

“Good boy. But you don’t have to say sorry to Papa… you need to say sorry to Mumma, hmm? You know how she blames herself for everything.”

Advait nodded slowly, even though his Papa couldn’t see him.

“Okay... I’ll say sowwy to Mumma. I didn’t wanna make her cwy.”

Atharv’s voice softened. “That’s my little lion. You’re a good boy, Adu. I’m proud of you for calling me.”

“Mumma doesn’t know I called you… She was so sad. I wanted to make her happy.”

Atharv smiled, deeply moved by his son’s innocent concern.

“You did the right thing, baby. You helped Papa and now we’ll help Mumma too, alright?”

The call ended, but Atharv’s face darkened. The threat Raj’s father made echoed in his mind. He couldn’t take it lightly.

In his office, Atharv paced the room, each step heavy with worry. He picked up the phone and dialed swiftly.

“Hello, sir. How can I assist you?”

“Rohan, I need a favor. Quiet but urgent. I want a security detail for Mahi and Advait. Keep it low-profile—they must not know.”

“Understood, Mr. Khurana. I’ll assign two trained men. They’ll stay nearby but invisible.”

“Thank you. Keep me posted.”

“Right away, sir.”

The line disconnected, and Atharv finally sat, still uneasy, but comforted by action.

That evening, two plain-clothed bodyguards arrived near the Khurana residence. They moved calmly, positioning themselves discreetly around the home.

“We stay invisible. Just watch, keep them safe.”

“Roger that. I’ve got eyes on the front.”

And just like that, protection wrapped silently around the unaware mother and child.

Inside the kitchen, Mahi stirred the dal gently, humming a soft lullaby under her breath. Her eyes were tired, her smile worn thin—but she kept going.

Tiny footsteps padded in.

Advait shuffled into the kitchen, his head low, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. He sat down at the table without a word.

Mahi glanced over her shoulder, sensing the heaviness in the room.

“Adu, can you pass me the sugar bowl?” she asked gently.

Without hesitation, he hopped off the chair and stretched up on his toes to grab the bowl with both hands.

“Here, Mumma…” he said, offering it carefully.

“Thank you, baby.”

A pause. He shifted on his feet.

“Mumma… do you need help? I can do stiwring...”

Mahi smiled. “That’s very sweet, baby. But I’m almost done.”

Another pause. Then came the words.

“Mumma... I’m sowwy... I made you sad.”

Mahi turned off the stove and walked over. She bent down and cupped his chubby cheeks, brushing away the tear trickling down.

“My baby… you already said sorry. I know you feel bad. I was upset, but not anymore. I love you so much, Adu.”

She gave his messy hair a loving ruffle.

“Now smile, hmm? I don’t like this gloomy little face. Where’s my sunshine?”

Advait sniffled, then giggled as Mahi wiggled her fingers on his tummy, tickling him. The kitchen filled with the sound of his laughter.

Outside, the two guards continued their silent watch, eyes alert, ears tuned to every sound, ensuring nothing disturbed the fragile peace inside.

Back at the office, Atharv’s phone buzzed again.

“Mr. Khurana, it’s Rohan. The team is in place. They’re watching Mrs. Khurana and your son closely. No suspicious activity so far.”

“Thank you, Rohan. I’m grateful. Keep them safe. Update me if anything changes.”

“Of course, sir. Have a peaceful evening.”

Atharv finally allowed himself to breathe. For now, his wife and son were safe. And that was everything.

Sneak peek - Chapter 13

“It’s not your fault, Atharv. Don’t carry guilt you don’t deserve. I know you’re doing your best too. Work keeps you away—I get it.”

“I’m really sorry, Mahi. But listen to me—you’re doing everything you can. It’s going to get better. I promise.”

She exhaled again, this time sharper, like steam escaping a kettle.