"Appa," Bani said softly, her voice trembling just enough to reveal the weight she had been carrying, "I can't tell you everything. Not yet. Some things are beyond words… they're in God's hands."
She looked up at the dark sky, then back at him.
"And I truly believe God gave me this opportunity. I don't want to waste it."
Her voice grew firmer—not rebellious, but honest.
"I don't want a father who is proud of his children but spends his life regretting his own choices… choices that led us into debt." She swallowed hard. "I don't want you to carry that burden silently."
Her words began to pour out, each one heavier than the last.
"I don't want to lose the people I love just because we can't afford a hospital bill. I don't want to be forced into a marriage where I'm not wanted. I don't want to wake up one day having lost hope in myself."
She stepped closer to him.
"And I don't want you, Appa… I don't want you to wake up every day with bitterness in your heart. Smiling only so your children don't break. Standing strong as the pillar of this family while carrying pain you can't even share."
Her eyes shimmered, but she didn't cry.
"I want my family to live a good life. A life with dignity. With choices."
She took a deep breath.
"That's why I've already taken many decisions to change our future. Not carelessly. Not blindly. But with responsibility."
Her voice softened into something fragile.
"But if you don't support me… those decisions mean nothing. I mean nothing."
She reached for his hand, holding it tightly.
"I am nothing without you, Appa."
Her father looked at her, confusion lining his face.
"What decisions? What changes?" he asked. "Are you risking your life? Are you losing something? I don't understand what you're trying to say."
Bani met his gaze calmly.
"Appa… haven't you noticed the changes in me?"
He didn't answer.
"Suddenly, I started doing well in my studies. Suddenly, I was selected by a modeling agency. Then came good shoots—one after another. And after that, a British film, shot in Mumbai." Her voice steadied. "Out of hundreds of girls, I was selected."
He frowned. "It all happened so suddenly."
Bani shook her head gently.
"No, Appa. Nothing was sudden."
She lifted her hands slightly, as if showing him something invisible.
"I knew these opportunities were coming. And when they came, I grabbed them with both hands. I changed myself. I adapted to what those opportunities were demanding."
She paused, letting her words sink in.
"Don't you think that's beyond normal reasoning?"
He exhaled slowly. "Sometimes… I feel it's a miracle."
Bani smiled faintly.
"Yes, Appa. You're right. It is a miracle."
Her eyes softened. "But it's a miracle meant for me—not for others."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"When someone knows a part of the future, it feels like a miracle to others." She shook her head gently. "I can only tell you this much. Please don't ask beyond it. It goes against the universe. Even I can't explain it—there are no words."
She looked up at the sky once more.
"I don't know what it is. I don't know everything it may offer me. But I want to accept it with happiness. When God blesses someone, Appa, we should accept it with respect—not by wasting His blessings."
Her father exhaled slowly, his eyes drifting toward the towering buildings around them.
"Bani," he said at last, "you've seen this place. The lifestyle here is expensive. We can't even afford to rent a house in a city like this. Shops cost lakhs just to lease. We simply can't afford it."
Bani didn't look away.
"Appa," she said calmly, "there's no need to rent."
He turned to her, startled.
"We can afford to buy a house," she continued. "But that's not even my first goal." She paused, then added, "You're right—it is expensive here. That's why we won't rent shops either."
He frowned. "Then what will we do?"
"We'll buy them," she said simply. "And we'll collect rent from them."
For a moment, he thought he had misheard.
"What… what are you talking about?" he asked, disbelief shaking his voice.
Bani took a deep breath.
"Appa… I have money."
"How much?" he asked cautiously.
"Not in lakhs," she replied. "In crores."
The world seemed to stop.
"What?" he whispered. "Crores? How? When? I don't understand."
She met his eyes steadily.
"Appa, you said it yourself—when a miracle happens, nothing is impossible." Her voice was gentle but firm. "I have talents you don't fully know about yet. I used them. I earned this."
She reached for his hand.
"It's safe money. Clean money. Nothing illegal. Please don't worry."
He remained silent, overwhelmed.
She tightened her grip slightly.
"Now there's just one decision left, Appa."
She looked at him—not as a child asking permission, but as a daughter asking for faith.
"Are we ready to accept this blessing… or not?"
The lights from the yachts shimmered across the water, casting reflections that felt like unanswered questions.
"Your one answer," she said softly, "your single yes or no… will decide the destiny of our entire family."
Her father was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly.
"Yes," he said at last. "But we need to talk. We need to discuss this with the others."
He looked at her carefully.
"I need to speak to your mother. And to my brother."
Bani listened, then replied gently.
"Appa, I understand talking to Amma. And I understand speaking to your mother as well." She paused, choosing her words with care. "But please think carefully about involving Uncle."
He looked surprised.
"This is your life, Appa," she continued softly. "Whether we flourish or whether we lose everything—it won't truly affect his life the way it will affect ours." Her voice lowered. "I'm sorry if this sounds harsh. I don't mean to be rude. But it's the truth."
She took a small breath and went on.
"I know he's your brother. And he's my uncle. I respect that. But sometimes, being too soft becomes dangerous." She met her father's eyes steadily. "That softness can destroy you… and us… without anyone even meaning to."
Her father remained silent.
"Be firm, Appa," she said quietly. "Look forward, not backward. Always read the next page of the book." A faint smile touched her lips. "You already know what's written on the previous pages. Learn from them—but don't live there."
She squeezed his hand gently.
"Move ahead. Avoid the same mistakes. That's all I'm asking."