Maira's eyes flew open to an empty bed. The sheets beside her were cold.
She checked the bathroom—nothing.
Downstairs, the family sat at breakfast. Sahir glanced up as she entered.
"Have you seen Mihir?" Maira asked.
Sapna paused, her teacup halfway to her lips. "He wasn't in his room?"
Moti Baa frowned. "We thought he was still asleep."
Uma and Akhil exchanged glances.
Maira's pulse spiked.
A gust of wind rattled the windows. Before anyone could react, a crimson-feathered bird materialized midair, dropping a sealed envelope into Maira's hands.
She tore it open, Mihir's messy scrawl staring back:
"PA,
I'm gone until I can control this darkness eating me alive. Can't risk hurting the family - and you as well . Sahir'll keep things running (he's annoyingly good at that).
Don't come after me. Yes, I know you don't take no for an answer - that's why I'm writing this instead of telling you to your face. Tell Moti Baa, Aunt Uma, and Uncle Akhil I'll be fine. And Mom... tell her Not to worry .
Your rockstar,
MK"
Sapna's teacup shattered on the floor. "MY SON—" Her knees buckled. Teju and Moti Baa caught her as Uma pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.
Maira folded the letter with deliberate calm. "You're right about one thing, Mihir. I don't accept no."
Sahir stepped forward, already reaching for his car keys. "I'm coming with—"
"You have to stay here brother-in-law ,"Maira cut him off. "The family need you here." Without another word, she turned and marched upstairs - not to pack a bag, but to steel herself.
The vermilion streaked bright as Maira pressed it into her parting—a promise written in red. She adjusted her dupatta, the fabric whispering against her neck like a battle standard.
At the threshold, she turned back.
"Moti Baa,"she said, kneeling to touch the elder's feet. "Your blessings."
The old woman's knuckles grazed her forehead. "Go with Durga's strength."
Then Maira faced Sapna. No tears now—just fire.
"I *will* bring your son home."The words left no room for doubt.
Sapna's breath caught. Not a demand met, but a oath freely given.
Maira was already walking when the first sob broke behind her.
Maira knelt on the gravel, the hem of her indigo gown pooling around her. From her satchel, she withdrew a glass vial of cobalt powder, its surface catching the dawn light like crushed sapphires.
With deliberate hands, she placed Mihir's stolen hair strand—plucked from his pillow—atop the glittering mound.
"Reeva tracking dust," she murmured."Lead me to him."
A sharp exhale. The powder erupted into a swirling blue mist, hovering at chest height before streaking westward like a comet's tail.
Tires screeched as Maira gunned the engine, her eyes locked on the ethereal trail. Somewhere beyond the horizon, her reckless husband would soon learn:
No lock could keep out a Reevavanshi.
The blue mist dissolved at the jungle's edge. Maira stepped out, her silk slippers sinking into the damp earth as cicadas screamed their disapproval from the canopy.
Before her stretched the truth of the challenge:a roaring river, its rapids gnashing like teeth. The wooden house perched mockingly on the opposite cliff—no bridge, no vines, just sheer rock and reckless water.
"Of course,"Maira muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. "My husband forgets—his wife doesn't fly."
The river's spray stung her cheeks as she whispered:
"What good are wings
When love walks?
What use are walls
When the heart knocks?"
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. No vines to climb. No path to follow. Just the river's relentless roar and the distant house taunting her.
Daavansh blood be damned—how did one cross the uncrossable?
Maira paced the riverbank, her silk hem now mud-stained. "I'll get you for this, Mihir,"she muttered. "A house with no path? Now I'll have to—" She eyed the churning rapids. "No. Too deep. I'll drown."
She threw her hands up."God, it's just you and me now!"
As her fingers brushed her upper arm,a scar glimmered faintly—unnoticed in the dappled sunlight.
The river hissed.
Then—
Crack.
Ice spiderwebbed across the water's surface, freezing mid-wave, forming a glittering bridge of frozen rapids.
Maira's breath caught. "You are listening."
"When man builds no road,
Nature bears the load.
When love must pass,
Even water turns to glass."
She took the first step onto the frozen waves, never seeing the fading silver glow on her arm.
Maira's slippers hit the porch just as the ice shattered behind her. The river roared back to life, cutting off any retreat.
The front door stood slightly ajar—a sliver of darkness beckoning.
Click.
The lights flickeredas she stepped inside. Shadows danced across empty liquor bottles and scattered sheet music. Then—
A touch at her shoulder.
Maira whirled, her slipper catching on the rug. She pitched backward—
—only to be yanked forward against a familiarly stubborn chest.
Mihir's arms locked around her, his hands stark against her gown. Up close, his eyes flickered between crimson and brown, his breath ragged.
"You,"he growled, "are the worst listener."
The lights went out.
The lights flared back on.
Maira shoved herself upright and jabbed a finger into Mihir's chest. *"You—"* Poke. *"—are the worst son."* Poke. *"Worst brother."* Poke. *"Worst grandson, nephew—"* Her voice cracked. *"—and husband."*
Tears streaked through the dust on her cheeks. "Who *abandons* their family when they need you most?"
Mihir grabbed her wrists, his vein-streaked armstrembling."God damn it, don't you get it? I'm a fucking curse to you all now!"
"Did we say that?" Maira wrenched free. "Or were you too busy playing the martyr to ask?"*
Suddenly, his hands framed her face—rough palms gentler than his voice. "I left because I care. Because watching you flinch from me would kill me faster than this damn darkness."