Location: Royal Jewelers, Bandra Time: 11:00 AM
The glass doors of 'Royal Jewelers' loomed before me, framed in gold and intimidation. A security guard stood watch, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he took in my appearance.
I knew what he saw. A madwoman.
My expensive wedding lehenga, the one Suhana had bragged about, was crushed and stained with mud from the streets. My hair was a tangled bird's nest whipping around my face. My chest was heaving violently, sweat dripping down my temples to mix with the grime on my cheeks.
But I didn't care.
I pushed past the guard before he could block me, stumbling into the air-conditioned silence of the showroom.
It was like stepping into another planet. A world of blinding halogen lights and soft velvet. Women in silk sarees sipped coffee while pointing at diamond rings with manicured fingers. Men in sharp suits signed checks without looking at the price.
"Excuse me!"
My voice cracked, loud and desperate in the hushed, polite room.
Heads turned. Conversations stopped. The customers frowned at me as if a rat had just scurried across the floor.
A bald man with spectacles—the manager—hurried over. His face was twisted in annoyance as he looked at my dirty clothes and the trail of mud I was tracking onto his pristine white carpet.
"Madam?" he said, his tone icy. He stood in front of me, blocking my path. "We don't give alms here. Please leave."
"I... I am not a beggar," I panted, clutching the glass counter for support because my legs were shaking. "I need to ask... my uncle... Ramesh. He came here this morning. He sold a necklace. A gold chain with a small pendant."
The jeweler paused. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on the expensive embroidery of my dirty dress.
"Ramesh?" he muttered. Then, a flicker of recognition crossed his eyes. "Ah. Yes. The sweaty man who was in a hurry."
My heart leaped into my throat. "Yes! Yes, that's him. He sold you my mother's necklace. Please... tell me you have it. It's mine. He stole it from me."
The jeweler smoothed his silk tie, a smug, superior smile playing on his lips.
"Well, he had the papers for it," he said dismissively. "And I must say, it was a truly beautiful piece. Old craftsmanship. Unique design. That's why I bought it immediately."
"Thank God." I let out a sob of relief, my knees almost buckling. I joined my hands together, pleading.
"Please, Sir. Give it back to me. I... I don't have the money right now, but I will pay you! I will pay whatever price you want. I will work, I will pay in installments. But please... just give me the necklace."
The jeweler looked at my pleading eyes. I looked for sympathy. I found only amusement.
He laughed. A short, dry sound that felt like a slap.
"You are too late, girl."
I froze. The blood drained from my face. "What?"
"It's gone," he said casually, inspecting his fingernails. "Sold."
The floor beneath me seemed to tilt dangerously. "Sold? But... but he just gave it to you this morning!"
"It was my lucky day," the jeweler grinned, clearly enjoying my distress. "A very wealthy customer came in just ten minutes after your uncle left. He saw the piece on the counter while I was tagging it. He liked the design. He said it was simple but elegant. He wanted it for his wife."
"No..." I whispered, shaking my head. "No, you can't... why did you sell it? It's mine! It's my Mom's necklace! It's the only thing I have left of her!"
My voice rose to a scream, raw and broken, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop.
"Who bought it? Tell me! Call him back!"
Tears streamed down my face, hot and fast, washing away the dirt on my cheeks. I knew I looked insane—broken, wild with grief—but I couldn't stop.
The jeweler's smile vanished. He snapped his fingers.
"Enough of this drama," he barked. "Get out."
"Please!" I grabbed his sleeve in desperation. "You don't understand—"
He shoved my hand away with disgust, dusting off his suit jacket as if I carried a contagious disease.
"Stop making my shop dirty!" he hissed, leaning over the counter, his voice venomous. "Look at you. You look like a madwoman. VIPs come here. What will they think if they see someone like you screaming and crying?"
He signaled to the security guard at the door.
"Get out," the jeweler threatened, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "Or I will call the police and have you thrown in jail for harassment."
I stood there, paralyzed.
Police.
The word echoed in my mind. Jail. Scandal.
Dhruv's warning crashed into my memory. "One phone call and your relatives will be eating jail air." If the police came... if Dhruv found out I was here causing a scene...
I looked at the empty velvet trays in the display case one last time.
It was gone. My mother's blessing. My safety net. My last connection to love.
It was now around the neck of some rich man's wife, who probably treated it like a cheap toy.
I didn't say another word. I couldn't.
I went blank. The fire in my chest died, replaced by a cold, hollow void.
I slowly wiped my tears with the back of my dirty hands, smearing soot across my face. I turned around. The security guard held the door open, looking at me with pity. I hated his pity.
I walked out of the air-conditioned luxury and back into the harsh, noisy heat of the street.
The tears kept falling, silent and endless, but I didn't make a sound. I had lost the necklace.
I had lost the last piece of my soul.
***************************************
Location: A Roadside Bench, Bandra Time: 5:00 PM
The sun was beginning to dip, casting long, bruised shadows across the pavement. The city buzzed around me—horns blaring, people rushing home to their families—but I sat frozen on a chipped wooden bench, isolated in a bubble of silence.
I looked at my empty hands. They were dirty, trembling, and devoid of the one thing that mattered.
"Why?" I whispered to the empty air.
My voice cracked. "I was good. I never asked for anything. I served Mama and Mami like a slave. I never complained... so why is my life so cruel?"
I wiped my wet cheeks. I closed my eyes, and suddenly, the noise of the traffic faded. The smell of exhaust was replaced by the scent of old books and warm milk.
FLASHBACK - Fourteen years ago.
Little Katha, seven years old with pigtails and wide, hopeful eyes, sat on her mother's lap. Outside, the rain was pouring, but inside, I felt warm. I felt safe.
My mother held a velvet pouch. From it, she pulled out a delicate gold chain. It shimmered in the dim light of the bulb like a captured star.
"It is so beautiful, Maa," I whispered, reaching out a tiny finger to touch it. "Who is it for?"
My mother smiled, a soft, sad smile that reached her eyes. She caressed my cheek with her thumb.
"This is for the most beautiful girl in the world," she murmured. "My princess. My Katha."
My eyes glowed. "For me?"
"Of course. You are my first joy. My sweet princess."
I giggled and turned my back to her. "Put it on me, Maa! Put it on!"
She laughed softly but shook her head. She placed the necklace back into the pouch.
"Not yet, my love. This is not the right time. I have kept this for your marriage."
"Marriage?" I scrunched my nose.
"Yes." Her voice turned serious, almost like a prayer. "One day, I will marry you to a Prince. A real Prince. He will be strong, Katha. He will keep you safe from all the bad things in this world. He will stand between you and the darkness."
Her eyes filled with tears. She pulled me close, hugging me tightly.
"He will be the one who catches you when you fall," she whispered into my hair. "I won't let your life be like mine, broken and alone. He will protect you."
"Where is he, Maa?" I asked, looking around the room as if he might be hiding behind the curtains. "Where is the Prince?"
"He will come soon. When you are old enough," she said, wiping a tear. "And on that day, I want you to give him this necklace. And he... he will be the one to put it around your neck. It is my wish, Katha. That my princess finds a prince who claims her with this gold."
PRESENT
I opened my eyes. The memory shattered like glass.
I stood up from the bench. My legs felt hollow. I hadn't eaten since yesterday. The world swayed slightly around me, tilting on its axis.
I began to walk. I didn't know where I was going. I just put one foot in front of the other like a dead woman walking to her own grave.
"Maa..." I choked out, my voice barely audible over the traffic. "You lied."
I stumbled, my expensive, dirty lehenga dragging on the asphalt.
"There is no Prince, Maa. No one is coming."
A sob tore through my chest. "And I don't even have the necklace anymore. I lost it. I lost your blessing."
I walked blindly onto the road, ignoring the angry honking of cars.
"The prince who was supposed to save me from falling... he doesn't exist," I wept. "There are only cruel relatives who sold me for cash. And there is a cold businessman who married me to save his pride."
Honnnk!
Bright white lights flashed from behind me, illuminating my silhouette. A car was approaching fast, its tires screeching on the tarmac.
I didn't turn. I didn't care.
"There is no one to hold me when I fall, Maa," I whispered, my vision turning black at the edges.
My body finally gave up. The hunger, the grief, the exhaustion—it all crashed down on me at once.
My knees buckled.
I pitched forward, falling toward the hard, unforgiving road.
I am falling, Maa. And no one is here.
I waited for the impact. I waited for the pain of gravel tearing my skin.
But the ground never came.
A hand—strong, large, and firm—shot out of nowhere. It grabbed my arm, hauling me up with a force that knocked the breath out of me.
I gasped as I was pulled hard against a solid body. I landed against a chest that was hard as rock but radiated a startling, burning warmth.
For a second, I hung there, limp in the stranger's grip, my head resting against his suit jacket.
He smelled of expensive musk, rain, and... power.
"Katha..."
The voice came from above me. It wasn't cruel. But it wasn't loving either. It was low, laced with shock and a strange, breathless intensity.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
I forced my heavy eyelids open. My vision was blurry with tears and dizziness. I looked up.
The face was swimming in front of me, but I knew those sharp, aristocratic features. I knew those dark, abyss-like eyes.
Dhruv.
He was holding me. His arm was wrapped tight around my waist, preventing me from hitting the ground. He had caught me.
Just like my mother had predicted.
But as I looked into his cold, confused eyes, I knew the tragic truth.
My Prince had arrived. But he wasn't here to save me.
"Dhruv..." I whispered, my voice failing.
My legs gave way completely. I went limp in his arms, surrendering to the darkness.