She walked aimlessly down the deserted road, her steps unsteady, as though the weight of her emotions threatened to crush her at any moment. Her lawyer's coat hung loosely in her hand, dragging slightly against the dusty ground. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the cold breeze, but within her, a storm raged, unrelenting and unforgiving.

Her mind replayed the chaos of the courtroom, each moment cutting deeper into her soul. The harsh voice of the judge announcing the cancellation of her license echoed in her ears.

"You are hereby disbarred for misconduct and bribery."

Bribery. The accusation felt like a knife twisting in her chest. She wasn't guilty, yet the evidence had been damning, her reputation dragged through the mud. 

And Armaan—her Armaan—had been the one to file the complaint against her. The betrayal struck like a thunderbolt, leaving her reeling. He had looked at her with cold, distant eyes, as if she were a stranger, an enemy. 

Her fingers tightened around the coat in her hand as memories of the past days surged forward, each one a fresh wound. Abhir’s accident, Vidya’s sentencing and Armaan… standing silent, unyielding, refusing to meet her desperate gaze as the world she had fought so hard to build crumbled around her. 

A sob escaped her lips, raw and guttural, shattering the stillness. The lawyer's coat slipped from her trembling hands, and the pocket spilled its contents—a few stray coins clattered onto the pavement, their metallic sound ringing in the silence. 

The cry that tore from her throat was primal, born of anguish and despair, a release of all the pain she had bottled inside. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her chest, the ache unbearable. She didn’t care who saw her, didn’t care if the world judged her yet again. 

In the distance, she heard the faint honking of a car, a small sound in the cacophony of her turmoil. But it barely registered in her mind. Nothing did. The agony she bore was louder than anything else, consuming her entirely. 

"Please… let it stop," she whispered to no one in particular. She didn’t know who she was pleading with—God, fate, or simply the universe. She just wanted it all to end. 

And as if some higher power had heard her plea, she felt her body go limp. Her vision blurred, the world spinning as her strength ebbed away. The last thing she remembered was the sound of voices, frantic and desperate, shouting her name. 

Her white saree, pristine and untouched moments ago, was now soaked in crimson. The metallic tang of blood filled her senses, and her head felt impossibly light. Somewhere, someone was still calling out to her, but the sound seemed distant, as if it came from another world. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, the darkness pulling her under.

Armaan sat in the dimly lit room, the soft hum of the clock breaking the silence. Vidya lay on the bed, her face pale, but her breathing steady. Her hand rested in his, fragile yet warm, and he clung to it as though it were his anchor. His mother was before him, her quiet presence stiring a storm within him. 

He glanced at her, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt and regret. How had it all come to this? His family, once whole, now fractured beyond recognition. He had thought his actions in the courtroom were justified, that standing for the truth meant doing what was right. But the emptiness in Vidya’s eyes and the absence of Abhira haunted him. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him from his thoughts. He hesitated for a moment before pulling it out. The screen displayed an unknown number, but something about it made his stomach twist. 

"Hello?" he answered, his voice low and cautious. 

The voice on the other end was hurried, tinged with urgency. "Is this someone in relation to Abhira Sharma? We found this contact on her speed dial." 

Armaan froze. Abhira. Her name felt like a dagger to his chest, slicing through the layers of defense he had built. He opened his mouth to reply but stopped, his gaze shifting to Vidya’s sleeping form. He could still see Abhira in the courtroom, the betrayal etched on her face as he had stood against her. 

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. Could he still claim to be someone to her? Hadn’t he forfeited that right when he filed the complaint, when he let her fall apart in front of the world? 

"Sir?" the voice prompted again, more insistent now. 

"Y-Yes," he finally stammered, his voice barely audible. 

The voice continued, cold and clinical. "We are calling from Life Saver Hospital. Please reach as soon as possible. She has less time left." 

The words hit him like a freight train. "Less time left." His grip on the phone tightened, and he shot to his feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. 

"What… what do you mean?" he asked, his voice shaking. 

"Sir, her condition is critical. Please come immediately." 

Armaan's heart raced as the call ended, the silence that followed deafening. He stood there, staring at the phone in his hand, his mind reeling. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. 

"Abhira," he whispered, her name like a prayer on his lips.

*..*..*..*..*..*

Something on the current track, I want to write something on the pretext of them breaking free of all the cluches of the family.

Abhimaan Will be the endgame but Armaan will have a difficult phase here.
(Those of u who don't wish for any of the two mentioned track, pls skip the story I (very respectfully) will not make changes in plot)

~TheLostSoul