Rain fell in thick sheets the morning they found her.
Arvi's informant tracked Ruma to a hidden clinic on the outskirts of the old district—once run by traffickers, now used as a place to keep people who were "forgotten."
Rose hadn't spoken the entire car ride.
Her fingers were ice. Her heartbeat was thunder.
She was about to face her past—alive, breathing, and broken.
The building was quiet.
No guards. No resistance.
Arvi's men swept the floors ahead of them, clearing the path.
And then, on the third floor, they opened a room.
She was there.
Sitting by the window.
Hair longer. Body thinner. Eyes haunted.
But alive.
"Ruma…" Rose whispered.
The woman turned slowly.
And in that moment, the past collided with the present.
Tears fell from both sisters' eyes before a word was spoken.
Rose stepped forward, hand trembling. "Is it really you?"
Ruma blinked—and then, with a voice almost too fragile to believe, she whispered, "Rosie?"
Rose broke.
She ran into her sister's arms, holding her like she was trying to piece together a lifetime in one embrace.
Both sobbed into each other's shoulders—grief pouring out after years of silence.
Behind them, Arvi stood still. Quiet. Watching.
And for the first time in his life, he felt something sting his eyes.
Later, in the car, Rose didn't let go of her sister's hand.
"She remembers everything," she said quietly. "The accident. The fire. How they took her. How they made her believe I died."
Arvi nodded. "We'll keep her safe."
"I can't believe you found her."
He looked at her with something deeper than pride.
"I told you—I'll burn the world before I let anyone take from you again."
That night, as Ruma slept in the next room, Rose sat by the fireplace with Arvi.
She looked at him differently now.
Not as a cold mafia boss.
Not as the man who had once scared her.
But as the man who gave her sister back.
"You saved her," she whispered.
He shook his head. "You did."
"You changed."
"I didn't," he said. "You just saw the part of me no one else looked hard enough to find."
She reached for his hand.
He let her take it.
No walls. No cold.
Just skin. Warm. Real.
Later, when she leaned against his chest in bed, she whispered, "I'm scared."
"Of what?" he asked softly.
"Of finally being happy."
He pulled her closer. Kissed the top of her head.
"So am I," he said. "But I think we deserve it."
Outside, the rain finally stopped.
And for the first time in a long time, morning came without pain.
But peace was never promised—not in Arvi's world.
Because while they found Ruma…
Someone else was still watching.
And not everyone wanted this story to end in love.