The moment she stepped closer, I accelerated.
Radha…
Radha…
Radha…
The chant tightened, no longer gentle, no longer flowing. It became deliberate. Faster. Like tightening a knot before something snaps.
Her presence pressed into my space, heat, perfume, authority but none of it entered me.
I did not let it.
When she spoke of destroying whatever heart I kept for someone else, something shifted.
I did not want this woman to see the idol or even hear her name.
My breath stayed even. My face stayed still. Inside, the chant sharpened into something protective, almost urgent.
Radha… keep it hidden.
Radha… protect it.
The idol could not be seen.
Not by her.
Not by anyone like her.
When she took my hand and led me forward, I followed.
Not because I agreed. But I had to, for my soul.
The car door opened. I sat where she guided me. The leather was cool beneath my palms. The cabin sealed shut with a muted sound, shutting out the world.
She took my hand again.
Her fingers interlaced with mine, squeezing until pressure bloomed just shy of pain.
I let it happen.
"Why are you so afraid?" she asked softly, too softly.
I did not answer.
Fear was not the right word.
She leaned closer, her voice threading itself around my ear.
"Or are you afraid that once I see what's in those boxes, I'll find a rival?"
A rival.
The chant did not break.
Radha…
Radha…
She nipped my earlobe, sharp, grounding, meant to pull me back into my body.
It worked.
But only partially. I only focused on increasing my pace of chanting. I was entering unknown territory and anything could happen. I need to be cautious.
"We're almost there," she said. "When we walk through those doors, you're home."
The car pulled into the massive, iron-gated driveway of Smriti's secluded mansion. The staff was already waiting.
But my focus was elsewhere.
On the idol.
And on Radha.