"Manohar Bhaiya, I've spoken to the authorities about the land. I’ve decided—I’ll transfer it to Mugdha’s future husband."

Chandan's voice was calm but deliberate.

Manohar looked up from the ledger, taken slightly aback.

Before he could respond, Kamini stormed into the room, her tone sharp with alarm.

"What?!"

Manohar’s eyes darkened as they fell on his wife.

Kamini quickly tried to soften her tone.

"I mean, Devar sa, that land is worth a fortune. And... and we don’t even have the legal papers in order..."

Manohar turned to her with steel in his voice.

"Kamini, who gave you the right to speak in the middle of this discussion?"

His voice was low, but it cut through the room like a blade. Kamini flinched under his gaze, visibly shaken.

"Humein maaf kar dijiye..."
(Forgive me…)

She bowed her head slightly and stepped out of the room, but she didn’t go far. She lingered just beyond the curtain, her ears straining for scraps of conversation.

A voice startled her.

"Aap yahaan kya kar rahi ho?"
(What are you doing here?)

She turned abruptly.

"Oh my God, Sahil! You scared me!"

Kamini scolded her son, who appeared half-drowsy, his eyes red and his posture unsteady.

Later that evening, in the quiet of the inner verandah, Ganga Devi summoned her grandson.

"Akhand, beta… I have a task for you."

He looked up from his thoughts, curious.

"What task, Dadi?"

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I want you to go to Rajasthan—to claim your mother’s land."

Akhand frowned, confused.

"Dadi, I don't understand. What land?"

Ganga Devi exhaled deeply, her eyes misting over.

"Your mother, Ranjana, was the only child of your Nanaji. After he passed away, all his property legally went to her. But… things happened. Life happened. We never claimed it. She was busy—raising you, running this house. But she had a dream, Akhand. She once told me she wanted to build a school for girls, maybe even a hospital if possible."

Her voice cracked.

"She told me she’d speak to Pratap about it after the elections, but... then the accident happened. We lost her."

Akhand sat in stunned silence, her words blooming in his heart like forgotten seeds.

After a pause, he whispered:

"Dadi, I’ll go. I’ll go to Rajasthan and claim that land."

She searched his eyes, looking for hesitation.

"Are you sure, beta?"

"Yes. But don’t tell Baba. I’ll go quietly. I’ll make the school. I’ll build the hospital. Just as Maa dreamed."

Ganga Devi nodded, placing both hands on his.

"Then promise me—until the school and hospital stand tall—you will not come back."

Akhand stood and gently bent to touch her feet.

"I promise, Dadi. I will not return until I fulfill my mother's last wish."

With that vow burning in his chest, he returned to his room to pack.

Pratap returned from work, loosening his tie as he walked into the living room—only to find bags packed near the staircase.

"Amma, who’s going somewhere?" he asked, picking up his evening tea.

Ganga Devi gave a serene smile.

"It’s a surprise."

Pratap chuckled.

"I know your surprises, Amma. You’re finally going on that tirth yatra, aren't you?"

But before she could reply, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs. Pratap looked up—and froze.

Akhand stood at the top, dressed in travel clothes, a bag slung over his shoulder.

"W-Where are you going?" Pratap asked, the smile fading from his face.

"Somewhere I need to be."

"That’s not an answer. Akhand, where are you going?"
His voice had that stern edge—the old father in him surfacing.

Akhand didn’t respond. Instead, he walked to his grandmother and bowed.

"Dadi, give me your blessings—that I may succeed."

Ganga Devi placed her hand gently over his head.

"My blessings are always with you, my child."

Akhand straightened, casting a brief glance at his father—then looking away.

"Take care of him too, Dadi," he said, before turning to leave.

"Akhand! Stop!"

Pratap’s voice thundered behind him. Akhand halted at the door.

Pratap approached, his fists clenched.

"You’ve grown up, I see. That doesn’t mean you can just walk out without informing your father. Don’t forget who I am."

Akhand’s jaw tightened.

"I know exactly who you are, Baba. You remind me often enough."

"Where are you going?"

"I have work to do."

"What work?"

Before Akhand could reply, Ganga Devi interjected gently but firmly.

"He’s going to Rajasthan, Pratap."

Pratap turned sharply to his mother.

"Amma, do you really think he’s capable—?"

She placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"He is. He has to be. It’s for Ranjana. It’s for her last wish."

Akhand stepped forward.

"I will fulfill my mother’s dream, Baba. I will not return to this haveli until it is done."

Pratap looked at him—saw not the broken son, but a spark. A fire. A man awakening from grief.

He nodded slowly.

"Go then. But remember your words. Don’t make promises you’ll forget once you're out of this house."

Akhand looked him in the eye.

"From today, Akhand Pratap Chaturvedi will never break a promise again."

As he stepped out, both Pratap and Ganga Devi stood watching. The shadows of the past lingered behind them, but before them, something else flickered—a faint glimmer of hope.

Sneak peek- Chapter 4

Chik-chik-chik-chik...
A soft rattle—almost musical—yet unmistakably deadly.

Akhand’s eyes fluttered open.

His breath caught in his throat.

Just inches above his chest, its tongue flickering in the moonlight, was a rattlesnake. Long, coiled, and motionless—except for the hypnotic rattle of its tail. Its eyes were dark and unreadable. It stared, unmoving, as if weighing his soul.