The sky was still painted in soft shades of pink and gold when Khushi stepped into Ron's room, the light of dawn filtering through the curtains like a quiet whisper. Her eyes softened as she saw him curled up under a thin blanket, hugging a soft toy . The bed was slightly messy, his legs dangling off the edge, one arm over his face to block the morning light.
She walked closer and sat gently at the edge of the bed. "Wake up, champ," she whispered, lightly tapping his cheek. "You're snoring."
"I don't snore," Ron mumbled without opening his eyes. "You dream too loud."
Khushi laughed softly, the sound bubbling out of her before she could stop it. She leaned in and pulled him into a tight hug, brushing his messy hair aside. "You grew taller, huh?" she said, teasing.
"You became prettier," he replied sleepily, still hugging the soft toy close. "But your hugs still feel like home."
Her smile faltered for a moment. Memories flooded in those nights on the shared mattress, when Ron's tiny body would curl against her, trembling after their mother's death. His sobs would echo quietly through the night, and she'd whisper stories and dreams into his ear, promising a better life, promising that someday they'd escape.
Now they had. They had escaped the fire that destroyed them. They had escaped into new bodies, new lives. But the pain hadn't vanished. The scars were simply hidden deeper, tucked beneath skin and smiles.
"Ron," she whispered, cupping his face, "no matter what happens next, promise me you'll keep smiling."
He blinked at her. "Only if you promise to destroy Nisha's life slowly."
Khushi couldn't help but grin. "Deal."
Karan walked into the room, his usual smirk on display and three steaming mugs in hand. "So, what's the plan?" he asked casually, setting the mugs on the side table.
Ron immediately sat up and grabbed his. "You're officially my favorite brother," he said without hesitation.
"Obviously," Karan replied, settling on the edge of the bed.
Khushi took her cup slowly, letting the warmth soothe her fingers. "No plan yet," she said. "But soon. For now, I want to understand this life better. Every piece, every connection. Only then can I pull the threads apart."
"You've already topped India," Karan said, watching her. "Seems like you're handling it just fine."
She gave a quiet laugh. "Academic success isn't power, Karan. I don't want grades. I want silence when I enter a room. I want them to fear me the way they once dismissed me."
"Like Aai used to," Ron added thoughtfully.
Karan's teasing expression faded, replaced by something gentler. "You miss her?"
Khushi looked down at her cup. "Every time I blink."
While they spoke, far away in the Patil mansion, silence weighed heavily in the living room. Sanjay Patil sat stiffly on the couch, eyes fixed on the television as Khushi Joshi's award ceremony replayed for the third time that morning. Her grace. Her intelligence. Her unshakable poise.
He clutched the remote tightly, knuckles white. "She has Sonali's eyes," he murmured.
Neha looked up from her magazine, unimpressed. "Again? You need to let this obsession go. It's been years."
From across the room, Nisha rolled her eyes dramatically. Draped in silk, her arrogance practically dripped off her voice. "She's just another media face. We've seen hundreds of them. She'll fade like the rest."
Sanjay said nothing. He only turned the volume up as Khushi gave her acceptance speech. He couldn't explain it, but the girl's eyes haunted him.
meanwhile,At Patil ancestral home,
Namrata, standing at the kitchen doorway, whispered to her husband Pandurang, "I feel like that girl is our Khushi."
Pandurang nodded with solemn certainty. "She didn't die. The universe gave her back. You'll see. She'll come home."
Later that day, Khushi locked herself in her study. She lit a candle by the window, more out of habit than belief, and opened her notebook. The title at the top of the page read,in sharp ink strokes:
Operation Patil Destruction.
Underneath it, she listed her thoughts one by one.
Step 1: Learn about the Patils' current status.
Step 2: Gain media visibility & influence.
Step 3: Approach Grandparents secretly.
Step 4: Expose Nisha & Neha.
The door creaked open behind her and Karan stepped in, watching her with a slight tilt of his head. "You do realize that if anyone finds out who you really are..."
"I'll lose everything," she finished without looking up. "That's why I need your help."
He walked closer, his voice quieter now. "Why me?"
She finally looked at him. "Because you saw me at my worst. At my most vulnerable. And you didn't run."
Karan stared at her for a second too long. "You're dangerous," he murmured.
Khushi smiled slowly. "Stay close then. You'll be safer that way."
That night, Khushi and Ron sat on the rooftop under a blanket, just like they used to.
The stars blinked above them, and the city's hum sounded distant.
"You think Aai would recognize me if she saw me now?" Ron asked, his voice almost breaking.
"She would," Khushi said softly. "In a second. She always said she could smell her children in a crowd."
"She was the only one who never let me cry too long."
"Do you still cry?"
Ron looked away. "Sometimes. When I miss her voice."
Khushi rested her head on his shoulder. "When I destroy Nisha, it'll be for you. Not just for me."
"And for Aai," Ron added.
She nodded. "For Aai."
The next morning, the cover of a magazine screamed Khushi's name in bold letters. "Brains, Beauty, and the Billionaire Name , Khushi Joshi: India's Brightest Star."
Ron ran through the hall with it in his hands. "Tai! You're on the cover again!"
Khushi took it, staring at her face. "I don't want fame, Ron. I want attention."
"Aren't they the same thing?"
"Not quite," she said with a small smile. "Fame makes people love you. Attention makes them fear what you'll do next."
At the Patil house, Sanjay opened the same magazine, his fingers trembling. Coffee spilled over the edge of his cup. "She's everywhere," he whispered.
Nisha stormed into the room. "Again? Her face is haunting me."
Neha rolled her eyes. "It's just media madness. She'll fade."
"No," Sanjay said quietly. "She won't." His gaze lingered on those eyes. He knew them.
From a nearby window, Karan watched Khushi as she gave another interview in the garden. Her voice was calm. Confident. Powerful. He muttered under his breath, "She was made for more."
Beside him, Ron appeared and said, "You're falling for her."
Karan froze. "What?"
"You look at her the way Papa used to look at Aai."
"I'm just… worried."
"She's strong. But even storms crash sometimes."
Karan didn't respond. He just turned away, heart thudding.
That night, in the quiet warmth of the Joshi home, Khushi opened a new journal.
Operation: Patil Destruction.
Just as she wrote her first line, Karan entered again with three mugs of cocoa. "World domination at midnight?" he teased.
Ron jumped and took one. "We're forming a revenge squad."
Karan handed her a mug and sat down. "You sure this is what you want?"
Khushi didn't hesitate. "They killed my mother. They buried me alive. I want them to rot."
Karan placed the cup on the table gently.
"Then I'm in. All the way."