The university campus buzzed with electricity.

A sea of students crowded the basketball court, their voices rising and crashing like waves. Cheers echoed against the buildings as the sun blazed overhead. The air smelled of sweat, excitement, and victory waiting to happen.

The girls’ basketball team was dominating the court.

At the center of it all stood Sahera Chandravanshi—fast, fearless, unstoppable. Her eyes were locked on the hoop, her movements sharp and confident. The ball hit the floor once, twice, then flew from her hands.

Swish.

The crowd erupted.

From the stands, Elena stared at the scoreboard, disbelief written all over her face.

“What the hell is this?” she whispered.

Tara instantly snapped her head toward her.
“Say oh my gosh, Elena. Not what the hell.”

Elena crossed her arms, still glaring at the court.
“Shut up, Tara. I need to support Austin.”

Tara rolled her eyes dramatically. “Of course you do.”

Kevin leaned forward, eyes shining with excitement.
“Can you guys shut up and focus on the match? Look—Sahera is going to score once more!”

As if she had heard him, Sahera sprinted forward, dodged her defender, and shot.

Another basket.

The final whistle blew.

For a brief second, time froze.

Then—

The girls’ team won.

The crowd went wild. Students screamed, jumped, clapped, and hugged one another. The court trembled under the weight of celebration.

At the center of the chaos, Austin stepped forward and stopped in front of Sahera. His lips curved into a proud, teasing smile.

“So finally you won, darling,” he said.
“Now I need to buy you your favorite item. Tell me—what do you want?”

Sahera smirked, wiping the sweat from her face. Her voice was calm, confident, victorious.

“I won because my coach is expensive, Austin,” she said.
“And you can’t afford such a good coach.”

She took a step back, eyes glinting.
“As for my gift—I’ll tell you later.”

Without another glance, she turned and walked away.

Austin watched her go, a slow smile spreading across his face.

He loved that fire.

Suddenly, Tara rushed onto the court and wrapped Sahera in a tight hug.

“I knew you’d win, my bestie!”

Sahera laughed, breathless but glowing.
“Sahera Chandravanshi never loses.”

Kevin clapped dramatically.
“Ohhh ho! What a day, Sahera. Tell Uncle Tanishk to throw us a party!”

Tara groaned.
“You always think about parties, Kevin. Seriously?”

Kevin smirked.
“I’m not talking to you, no twinkle-twinkle little star.”

Tara’s eyes flared.
“Kevin, you bitch!”

She grabbed his collar, ready to start a full-on fight.

“Guys, calm down,” Austin said, stepping between them, laughing.

Sahera watched her friends—laughing, shouting, alive. The noise, the joy, the victory wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

This wasn’t just a win.

This was her moment.

The campus canteen was louder than usual that evening.

Plates clattered, chairs scraped, and laughter filled the air as the group claimed their usual corner table. The adrenaline from the match still buzzed through their veins, mixing with the smell of fried snacks and cold drinks.

Sahera sat in the middle, her jersey swapped for a loose hoodie, her face still glowing with victory. Tara dropped into the chair beside her, while Kevin sprawled across from them like he owned the place. Elena sat quietly near Austin, her smile forced, her eyes drifting back to Sahera again and again.

Austin stood up suddenly, tapping his spoon against a steel glass.

“Attention, everyone!”

The chatter slowed.

He grinned widely, pride shining in his eyes as he looked at Sahera.

“Since my girlfriend won today’s match,” he announced loudly, “everyone present in this canteen can order whatever they want.”

A pause.

Then—

“It’s on me.”

For a second, there was stunned silence.

And then the canteen exploded.

Cheers, whistles, and applause filled the room. Some students stood up just to thank him, others rushed straight to the counter, already planning their feast.

Sahera looked up at Austin, surprised.

She smiled—soft, genuine, proud.

Elena’s fingers tightened around her water bottle.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Jealousy burned quietly in her chest, sharp and unwanted, as she watched Sahera receive the attention she believed should have been hers.

Kevin’s eyes practically sparkled.

“WAIT—did you say anything we want?” he asked loudly.

Austin laughed. “Yes, Kevin. Anything.”

Kevin slammed his hand on the table.
“Then I’m ordering TEN cold drinks!”

Tara groaned instantly.

“Are you insane?” she snapped. “You’ll burst like a water balloon.”

Kevin grinned at her.
“Relax, Tom. I’m Jerry. I always survive.”

Tara rolled her eyes so hard it became a habit.

“You are not Jerry,” she shot back. “You’re the annoying background character.”

Kevin gasped dramatically.
“Wow. Violence. Emotional damage.”

The two began bickering nonstop—arguing, teasing, throwing napkins at each other—exactly like Tom and Jerry, loud, chaotic, and impossible to separate.

Austin shook his head, laughing.
“These two will never change.”

Sahera leaned back in her chair, watching the madness around her—friends laughing, food being ordered, victory still warm in her chest.

She caught Austin’s eye.

He smiled at her again.

The win felt even sweeter—not because of the trophy or the cheers—

But because she was surrounded by people who made the moment unforgettable.

Elena looked away, hiding the storm brewing inside her.

Not everyone was celebrating.

The canteen slowly began to empty as the evening settled over campus. Laughter faded into tired smiles, and one by one, students started heading back to their hostels.

Austin picked up his car keys and turned toward Sahera.

“I’ll drop you today,” he said casually, already confident in the plan.

Sahera shook her head immediately.
“No, Austin. My brother is coming. He’ll take me.”

Austin frowned slightly.
“Your brother? Who?”

Sahera smirked, crossing her arms.
“Who else?” she said lightly.
“My twin brother —Saransh.”

Before Austin could respond—

A car screeched into the parking area at full speed.

The sudden stop drew everyone’s attention. The engine growled once before going silent. The doors unlocked with a sharp click.

The driver’s door opened.

A tall boy stepped out, his expression dark, eyes sharp and scanning the scene like a warning sign.

Saransh Chandravanshi had arrived.

He slammed the car door shut and walked straight toward Sahera, his gaze briefly flickering to Austin—cold, assessing, disapproving.

“Did you forget, ” Saransh said sharply, “that you are not allowed to have a boyfriend?”

His voice was calm, but the tension beneath it was unmistakable.

“And now you’re roaming around with a boy?”

Sahera blinked, completely unfazed.

“Who?” she asked innocently.

She turned slightly toward Austin.
“He’s just a friend.”

Austin nodded instantly, stepping forward with an awkward smile.

“Yeah,” he said quickly.
“Hello… I’m Austin.”

He extended his hand politely.
“Your sister’s friend.”

Saransh looked at the hand.

Then at Austin.

Then back at Sahera.

The silence stretched—thick, heavy, dangerous.

Sahera knew that look.

Trouble had officially arrived.

The house was wrapped in calm when they finally arrived home. The lights glowed warmly, and the familiar silence felt heavy after the chaos of the day.

As soon as they stepped inside, Sahera spotted her father sitting in the living room, reading through some papers.

Her face lit up instantly.

“Papa!” she called out excitedly.
“We won the match today!”

Tanishkh looked up, surprise flickering across his face before melting into pride. He stood up and pulled Sahera into a gentle embrace.

“I’m proud of you, beta,” he said warmly, resting his hand on her head.
“You’ve worked hard for this.”

Sahera smiled, her exhaustion suddenly feeling worth it.

Then Tanishkh’s gaze shifted.

Slowly.

It landed on Saransh.

The warmth in his eyes didn’t disappear—but it sharpened.

“Saransh,” he said calmly, “I heard you went to a car race last night.”

Sahera turned toward her brother instantly.

Saransh stiffened.
“No, Dad,” he replied quickly.
“How did you even get that news from?”

Tanishkh raised an eyebrow.

Saransh continued, trying to sound casual.
“I was with my friend. At his house. We were studying.”

The room went quiet.

Too quiet.

Before Tanishkh could say anything more, soft footsteps echoed from the hallway.

“Enough now.”

Everyone turned.

Dadi Malini stood there, her saree neatly draped, eyes sharp but affectionate.

“Come on, you two,” she said, waving her hand.
“Go freshen up. Dinner is finally ready.”

She looked at Tanishkh next, her tone firm.

“And you—stop scolding my Ansh.”

Saransh almost smiled.

Dadi turned back to the siblings.
“Beta, go to your rooms.”

Sahera nodded obediently.
“Yes, Dadi.”

Saransh followed her, relief evident on his face.

As they walked away, Sahera glanced sideways at him.

Studying, huh?

Saransh avoided her eyes.

Some truths were better left unsaid.

Behind them, Tanishkh sighed quietly, while Malini shook her head with a knowing smile.

In this house, love was loud—but secrets were louder.

Night settled quietly over the Chandravanshi house, but peace didn’t follow.

Sahera stood by her bedroom window, towel draped over her shoulders, hair still damp. The match replayed in her mind—but so did Austin’s smile… and Saransh’s glare.

She exhaled slowly.

Behind her, the door creaked open.

Saransh stepped in.

“So,” he said, folding his arms, “just a friend?”

Sahera didn’t turn around.
“Yes,” she replied calmly.
“Just a friend.”

Saransh scoffed.
“Funny. Because he didn’t look like ‘just a friend.’”

She turned to face him now, eyes steady.
“You don’t get to decide that, Saransh.”

For a moment, he looked startled—then annoyed.

“I’m not deciding,” he snapped.
“I’m protecting you.”

Sahera laughed softly, not amused.
“From what? A boy who clapped for me?”

Saransh stepped closer, his voice dropping.
“From distractions. From mistakes. From things Papa won’t forgive.”

That did it.

“Why is it always Papa?” Sahera shot back.
“Why do you act like his shadow?”

Saransh’s jaw tightened.
“Because someone has to.”

The room fell into silence, thick and uncomfortable.

Downstairs, unaware they were being discussed so fiercely, Tanishkh sat at the dining table, lost in thought.

Malini placed a bowl in front of him and sighed.

“You were too hard on Saransh today,” she said gently.

Tanishkh rubbed his temples.
“I’m not blind, Maa sa. He’s hiding things.”

Dadi smiled knowingly.
“And Sahera isn’t?”

Tanishkh looked up sharply.

“That boy,” he said slowly, “the one from college… Austin.”

Dadi raised an eyebrow.

“What about him?”

Tanishkh leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t want romance interfering with her future.”

Dadi chuckled softly.
“Future doesn’t stop because the heart starts beating, beta.”

Upstairs, Sahera sat on her bed, hugging her knees.

For the first time that day, victory felt distant.

Her phone buzzed.

A message.

Austin: Had fun today. You were incredible.

She smiled before she could stop herself.

At the doorway, unseen, Saransh watched her expression change.

That smile told him everything.

He turned away quietly.

This wasn’t just a crush.

This was the beginning of a clash—between love and loyalty, freedom and fear, heart and family.

And none of them were ready for what was coming next.

The house had finally gone quiet.

Dinner was over. Lights were dimmed. Even Saransh’s footsteps had disappeared into silence.

Sahera lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her phone resting on her chest. The glow from the screen was the only light in the room.

She hesitated.

Then typed.

Sahera: You home?

Three dots appeared almost instantly.

Austin: Yeah. Still thinking about today.

A smile curved on her lips.

She rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket closer.

Sahera: You made it dramatic at the canteen, you know that?

Austin: Worth it.
Seeing you smile—worth everything.

Her heart skipped.

She stared at the message longer than she should have.

Sahera: My brother didn’t think so.

Austin: I noticed.
He looked like he wanted to arrest me.

She laughed silently, covering her mouth with her hand.

Sahera: He’s overprotective.

A pause.

Then—

Austin: And your father?

Sahera’s fingers slowed.

Sahera: He doesn’t know.
Not yet.

The weight of that truth settled between them, even through the screen.

Austin: Does that scare you?

She exhaled softly.

Sahera: A little.
But winning today reminded me something…
I don’t like giving up.

Austin read the message twice.

Then replied—

Austin: Good.
Because I’m not planning to either.

Her chest tightened.

She sat up, hugging her pillow.

Sahera: Austin… today when you said “my girlfriend”…

She stopped typing.

Deleted.

Typed again.

Sahera: Did you mean it?

The reply came slower this time.

Austin: I wouldn’t say it in front of the whole canteen if I didn’t.

Silence.

Then—

Austin: But only if you’re okay with it.

Sahera smiled, eyes soft, emotions tangled and warm.

Sahera: I was okay with it.
I think… I always have been.

Outside her room, the corridor was quiet.

But behind another door, Saransh stood awake, staring at his phone, unread messages from his racing crew lighting the screen.

Two siblings.
Two secrets.
One house.

And somewhere between whispered texts and guarded hearts—

love was quietly taking root.

Morning arrived like it always did.

The Chandravanshi house stirred awake with routine—footsteps, clinking cups, the faint sound of doors opening and closing. Sahera stepped out dressed for university, her bag slung over her shoulder, determination already settled in her eyes.

Saransh’s room remained closed.

Sahera paused for a moment, glanced at the door, then looked away.

Some battles were not hers to fight.

Downstairs, Tanishkh watched his daughter leave, pride and relief mixing quietly in his chest.

She was steady. Focused. Responsible.

Just like her mother.

He turned toward the staircase again.

No Saransh.

Not today.
Not yesterday.
Not most days.

Tanishkh sighed deeply.

Outside, Saransh roamed the streets on his bike, laughing with friends, careless and loud, life treated like a game that would never demand consequences. He went somewhere, came back from somewhere else—always moving, never anchored.

Back home, Tanishkh stood in his study.

His eyes fell on a framed photograph resting on the table.

Shree.

His wife’s gentle smile stared back at him, calm and reassuring, the way it always had been.

He picked up the frame slowly.

“I think Saransh… he’s slipping out of my hands,” Tanishkh murmured, his voice heavy.
“He goes somewhere, comes from somewhere… I don’t even know where his life is headed.”

His fingers tightened around the frame.

“He’s not like Sahera,” he continued softly.
“She’s strong. She knows her path.”

A pause.

His voice cracked just a little.

“Saransh is different.”

The silence answered him back.

“How will I handle him alone, Shree?”

For the first time in years, fear settled openly in his chest—not the fear of failure, but the fear of losing his son to a life he couldn’t control.

The photo didn’t speak.

But the house seemed to listen.

And somewhere far from classrooms and rules, Saransh laughed, unaware that his freedom was slowly becoming his father’s deepest worry.

The room was silent.

Too silent.

Tanishkh still held Shree’s photograph, his fingers trembling now. His shoulders sagged, the strength he showed the world finally slipping away in the privacy of four walls.

His breath hitched.

Then—

He broke.

Tanishkh sank into the chair, pressing the photo against his chest as tears slipped freely down his face.

“Shree…” he whispered, his voice cracking.
“Why did you leave me?”

His head fell forward.

“Why?”

The question echoed, unanswered.

“I raised them alone,” he continued, grief spilling out at last.
“Maa sa was there, yes… but still—”

His hands tightened.

“I think I failed to give them a mother’s love.”

His chest ached as he spoke his son’s name.

“Otherwise Saransh wouldn’t be this reckless,” he said brokenly.
“He wouldn’t be running away from responsibility like this.”

A sob escaped him.

“And Sahera…”

His voice softened, heavy with disappointment and longing.

“She’s hiding things from me.”
“She never shares what she feels about her life.”

He wiped his tears roughly.

“They never stop and ask me, ‘Papa, do you know what’s happening?’”
“They never come and say, ‘Papa, this happened today.’”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Or maybe I gave them too much freedom…”
“So much that they forgot they have a papa at home.”

The thought shattered him.

“Even when they fall into trouble, they never share it with me.”

He covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking.

“I failed,” he said, barely audible.
Then again, louder, desperate—

“Did I really fail, Shree?”

The photograph stayed silent.

But the question lingered in the room, heavy and aching.

A father who did everything he could.
A man who lost his partner too soon.
And two children growing up in ways he couldn’t control.

Love had never left this house.

But somewhere along the way, it stopped being spoken out loud.

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2412 words count

“Turn the page. I promise it’s worth it.”