The dimly lit street stretched out before Priya, her steps hurried but aimless as she moved backward, her voice trembling with defiance. "Don't you dare come near me! Don't follow me, Ram!" she exclaimed, her eyes filled with hurt and fury. Ram stood frozen, torn between the storm of emotions brewing within him and the sight of Priya retreating further into danger.

Then, his gaze shifted, and his heart seized—a car sped down the street, its headlights slicing through the darkness, heading straight for Priya. Panic gripped him as he yelled with all his might, "Priya, stop!" But she didn't hear him; her stubborn resolve shielded her from the urgency in his voice.

In that split second, Ram's instincts overpowered his thoughts. He bolted toward her with everything he had, his legs moving faster than they ever had before. Time seemed to slow as the car drew closer, and with a final surge, he reached her, grabbing her arm and yanking her out of harm's way.

They tumbled onto the pavement, the momentum throwing them to the ground. Ram's arms wrapped protectively around Priya as they landed, his body cushioning her fall. His chest heaved as he held her tightly, his voice barely a whisper, "I saved you... Priya. Thank God."

Priya stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. She was about to scold him when she noticed his eyes flutter closed, his body going limp against her. "Ram!" she called out, her voice tinged with alarm as she shook his shoulders. "Ram, wake up! Are you okay? Please, open your eyes!"

Her hands trembled as they cupped his face, her earlier anger replaced with fear. In the eerie silence of the street, her pleas filled the air, a stark contrast to the moments before. The man who had shielded her, who had risked everything for her, lay unconscious in her arms, and for the first time in a long while, Priya felt the weight of emotions she thought she had buried deep inside.

The sterile hallway outside Ram's hospital room felt like a cage to Priya, each passing moment tightening its grip on her impatience. She paced back and forth, her arms crossed as if trying to contain the torrent of emotions swirling inside her. The doctor in her demanded rationality, calmness, and detachment—but the woman, the one who could never quite sever her connection to Ram, betrayed all of that.

She stopped abruptly, glaring at the closed door to his room. Why does this keep happening? Why him? Why now? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the frustration from boiling over. No matter how much she tried to distance herself, it was as if an invisible string always tethered her to him, a bond that was both unavoidable and unbreakable.

The door to the room finally swung open, and Dr. Vyas stepped out, his expression calm yet concerned. Priya shot to her feet, her heart pounding as she blurted, "How is he now, Dr. Vyas?"

The older doctor offered a reassuring smile, his voice steady. "He's fine, physically speaking. There doesn't seem to be any lasting damage. But," he paused, his tone shifting slightly, "he needs care and rest. Emotional stability will be key when he regains consciousness. That's where you come in, Dr. Priya."

Priya exhaled deeply, relief mingling with a renewed sense of responsibility. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, her voice softer now, though her mind was racing with questions she couldn't yet articulate.

As Dr. Vyas walked away, Priya turned to face the door again, her eyes clouded with a mix of fear, relief, and something deeper she couldn't quite name. For a moment, she hesitated, her hand hovering over the handle. Her professional side urged her to maintain composure, but the other part—the part that knew Ram as more than just a patient—felt an ache she couldn't ignore.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself before stepping into the room, ready to face whatever came next, even as the invisible string between them pulled her closer once again.

Priya sat in her cabin, her hands trembling as she clutched her pen. The silence around her was deafening, her thoughts growing louder with each passing second. What will I say? she wondered, her chest tightening with anxiety. She dreaded the moment Ram regained his consciousness, fearing the storm it might unleash. Would he question her again, dig into truths she was too afraid to face? The weight of her uncertainty was suffocating, and she felt trapped between her duties as a doctor and her tangled emotions as a person.

The sharp knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts, and a nurse rushed in, visibly distressed. "Ma'am, he's awake. Mr. Kapoor is insisting on leaving, and we can't control him. He's creating a scene. Please come immediately!"

Priya's heart sank. She jumped to her feet, her fear now replaced by a surge of urgency. Following the nurse, she hurried down the hallway, her footsteps echoing against the sterile floors. She approached Ram's room, her pulse racing as she heard his booming voice.

"I said let me go! I don't need to be here anymore!" Ram commanded, his frustration evident as he shoved away the hands trying to calm him. The medical staff stood helpless, unsure how to handle his volatile state.

Priya stepped into the room, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Ram, what are you doing?"

At the sound of her voice, Ram froze mid-motion, his hands dropping to his sides. He turned sharply to face her, his chest heaving with exertion. His eyes met hers, a strange mix of intensity and confusion flickering in them.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. Ram stared at her, his expression softening as if something had clicked deep within him. Then he spoke, his voice quieter but laced with a weight that made Priya's heart sink.

"Priya... what are you doing here?"

Those words struck her like a thunderclap. She stood rooted to the spot, her breath catching as realization dawned. The way he said her name, the clarity in his voice—it was unmistakable.

He remembers.

The truth hit her all at once, a wave of relief and dread crashing over her. Priya felt the world tilt beneath her feet. Ram's memory was back, and with it came all the questions, all the pain, all the unfinished stories they'd tried to bury.

Priya's hand gripped the edge of the bed for support as she swallowed hard. She looked into Ram's eyes, seeing the recognition there, and she knew that life as they both knew it was about to change forever.

Priya felt her knees buckle under the weight of Ram's piercing questions. The intensity in his voice, the raw frustration in his eyes—it was too much for her to bear. Her instincts screamed at her to leave before she unraveled completely. But just as she turned to go, Ram's hand shot out, gripping hers firmly.

"Priya, wait," he demanded, his voice strained with desperation. His grip, though not forceful, was enough to root her in place. "What are you doing here?"

Her heart raced as she turned back to face him. His expression was a storm of confusion and anger, his brows furrowed as if he were trying to piece together a shattered puzzle.

Before he could say more, she cut him off, her voice measured but trembling beneath the surface. "You need to rest, Ram. We'll talk later."

But her words only seemed to stoke the fire in him. He let go of her hand, his fists clenching at his sides as he raised his voice. "I don't give a damn about rest, Priya! I want answers! Why can't I remember how I ended up here? Where am I? Is this Mumbai? And why... why are you here?"

His words hit her like daggers, each question slicing through her carefully constructed walls. She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Her throat tightened as she realized she couldn't explain—not now, not like this.

"I'll send someone to take care of you," she said instead, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned to the nurse, her movements mechanical, as if on autopilot. "Give him a sedative if needed. I'll be in my cabin."

Without waiting for a reply, she fled the room, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. The walls seemed to close in on her, the air too thick to breathe. She felt his gaze burning into her back as she left, but she didn't dare look over her shoulder.

Inside the room, Ram's frustration boiled over. He ran a hand through his hair, his breaths coming fast and shallow. "What the hell is going on?" he muttered, his voice cracking under the weight of his confusion.

The nurse approached cautiously, syringe in hand. "Mr. Kapoor, please calm down. This will help you relax," she said softly.

"I don't need—" Ram started, but before he could resist further, the nurse expertly administered the sedative. Within moments, his body began to relax against his will. His muscles loosened, his breathing steadied, and his eyelids grew heavy.

As he drifted into an uneasy sleep, Ram's last conscious thought was of Priya—her face, her voice, the way she avoided his questions. Somewhere deep in his heart, he knew there were answers she was too afraid to give. And when he woke up, he'd get them, no matter what it took.

Priya pushed open the washroom door with trembling hands, her steps faltering as she entered the stark, sterile space. The bright fluorescent lights reflected harshly off the tiled walls, but they couldn't mask the storm brewing within her. She moved mechanically toward the sink, gripping its edges as if to steady herself from an invisible force trying to pull her under.

With a sharp intake of breath, she turned on the tap, letting the cold water gush out. She cupped her hands and splashed it over her face, the icy sensation jolting her momentarily from her spiraling thoughts. Droplets clung to her cheeks, and as she looked up, her own reflection stared back at her—a woman torn apart by secrets and the fear of their exposure.

Her chest heaved as she met her own gaze, her eyes clouded with an unspoken turmoil. She was trembling—not just from the encounter with Ram, but from the gnawing dread of what could come next. The thought pierced through her like a dagger: What if he finds out about Peehu?

The name echoed in her mind, reverberating with the weight of years spent burying the truth, protecting her daughter, and guarding the fragile facade of her life. Peehu, the secret she had carried in silence, the bond she had fought to preserve, the one piece of her heart she couldn't afford to lose.

Priya gripped the edges of the sink tighter, her knuckles turning white. Her mind raced with scenarios she didn't dare to imagine. If Ram discovered the truth, how would he react? Would he be angry? Betrayed? Or worse—would he demand answers she wasn't ready to give?

The thought of Ram and Peehu in the same frame, the possibility of him realizing the connection, sent shivers down her spine. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat, but it was no use.