"Chand! Go make your bed, it's past ten already!" Roop called from the kitchen, unpacking boxes and trying to settle into their new place. Rishabh was helping out as well.

"No! I want to sleep with Naani-maa," Chand whined, her lower lip jutting out. Being the youngest, she often got her way.

Roop sighed. "Fine, help Naani-maa make the bed then," she said. Chand skipped happily towards her adoptive grandmother's room, whom she called "Naani-maa" with much affection. But on her way, she spotted the television flickering in the living room. Her eyes lit up when she saw Shah Rukh Khan, her favorite Bollywood actor, on the screen.

Shah Rukh Khan is in Lucknow?!" Chand screeched, her voice echoing through the room.  Krish, who was happily watching the television, jumped in surprise.

The teenager on the couch scowled. "Kid! Why are you shouting?!"

Chand puffed out her face and glared at her older brother. "I'm 6 years old! I'm not a kid!"

Before Krish could retort, a mischievous glint sparked in Chand's eyes. She darted off towards the kitchen where Roop was unpacking.

"Didi! Roop Didi!" Chand called, her voice laced with excitement.

Roop didn't turn around. "What is it now, Chand?" she asked, focusing on arranging the cutlery in the cupboard.

"Can we go meet Shah Rukh Uncle right now?!" Chand pleaded, her eyes wide with hope.

Roop finished putting away the last of the silverware before turning to Chand. She shook her head gently. "No, not right now, sweetheart. Maybe tomorrow, if things work out."

Disappointment clouded Chand's face like a storm. Refusal wasn't something she digested well, a trait she undoubtedly copied from Roop's own stubborn streak. Rishabh chuckled, unable to resist Chand's expression. She puffed out her cheeks and glared at Roop, who continued unpacking with unwavering determination, a determined little warrior facing an immovable fortress.

"Maybe I can take you to meet him tomorrow, Chand," Rishabh offered, a playful glint in his eyes. "I have a security detail shift at his film set. I bet he could squeeze in a few minutes for his biggest fan if I put in a good word."

Chand's face broke into a radiant smile. Meeting her idol seemed like a dream come true. Shah Rukh Khan held a special place in her heart, just like countless others across India.

"There's no need for that, Rishabh," Roop interjected, her voice firm. "Maybe this can be a learning experience for Chand. It's important to learn how to handle disappointment."

Rishabh opened his mouth to protest, but Roop cut him off with a determined look. "That's enough, Rishabh. I've made my decision." With that, she excused herself and headed to another room, leaving Rishabh and Chand behind in the kitchen.

Rishabh shook his head in disappointment, gently ruffling Chand's hair before following Roop. Chand's smile vanished, replaced by a deep frown. In that moment, Roop's firm tone ignited a spark of defiance in Chand's fiery spirit. Perhaps their similar personalities were the root of their frequent clashes.

Roop was right, though. Learning to cope with rejection was a necessary part of life, a bitter pill to swallow but one that ultimately strengthened you. Better to face the harsh reality than cling to an illusion of happiness.

"I will meet Shah Rukh Khan no matter what!" Chand declared, her small foot stomping a defiant rhythm on the floor. With a determined pout, she marched off to her Naani-maa's room. Pushing open the door, she found her grandmother struggling to make the bed. A pang of guilt washed over Chand, instantly replacing her anger.

"Let me do it, Naani-maa," she offered, rushing to her side. Her grandmother's face softened into a gentle smile as she watched Chand take charge.

"You've grown so much in five years, haven't you, Chand?" Naani-maa said, her voice raspy with age. "It feels like just yesterday Roop brought you home, a tiny bundle wrapped in a wet blanket, crying your heart out in her arms."

Roop's name hung in the air, a spark igniting the embers of Chand's anger. But respect for her Naani-maa kept her silent. She finished making the bed, her movements tight with suppressed emotion.

"We should get some sleep, Maa," Chand said softly, her voice strained.

Sushila Devi nodded slowly, her age etched in the lines of her face. With a grunt of effort, she began to push herself onto the bed. Chand was there in an instant, her small arms a surprisingly strong support.

Sushila Devi, or Naani-maa as Chand called her, had dedicated her life to children. A retired school teacher, she'd run an orphanage in her younger years, fostering countless kids who needed a home. Now, at 81, a fall down the stairs four years ago had left her with a permanent limp.

It was during those challenging times that 17-year-old Roop had come into Naani-maa's care. Now, 25, Roop had taken on the mantle, running the orphanage alongside Naani-maa. But times were tough. Funding had dried up, leaving them with just the twelve children already under their roof – seven girls and five boys. Roop and Sakhee juggled tutoring jobs and Naani-maa's meager pension to make ends meet, but it was a constant struggle.

Roop knew. Deep down, a knot of unease twisted in her gut. Staying in this abandoned elementary school was a gamble, a risky haven for her and the children. But with no other options, she'd turned to Rishabh, her oldest friend, for help. The lack of rent and utilities was a lifeline, a means to ensure the children wouldn't go to bed with empty stomachs. Rishabh, the area inspector, had promised to keep their secret, to shield them from watchful eyes. He'd known Roop since before Naani-maa and Sakhee entered her life, a silent witness to her struggles.

Rishabh harbored a secret love for Roop, a love he'd never dared to confess. It wasn't cowardice, but a keen awareness of her emotional walls. Men were kept at a distance, a consequence of past hurts. Yet, a sliver of hope remained. Roop trusted him implicitly, a connection he fiercely guarded.

Sushila Devi drifted off to sleep beside Chand, her frail breaths a gentle lullaby. But sleep eluded the young girl. Tonight, her mind buzzed with a daring plan – a way to meet her idol without Roop's watchful eyes. As the silence deepened, a rebellious glint sparked in Chand's eyes. Tonight, she would escape, no matter the cost.

With bated breath, Chand waited. Waited for the steady rhythm of sleep to lull the house into silence. Waited for the soft click of the lock as Rishabh left in his jeep. Finally, when darkness and quiet descended, she crept out of bed. The old schoolhouse loomed vast and shadowy, each room a distant echo of slumbering breaths. Chand tiptoed out, the floorboards groaning faintly beneath her bare feet.

Outside, she sprinted into the night, fueled by rebellion and a misplaced sense of purpose. Direction was lost in the haze of her defiance. She ran and ran, the wind whipping past her ears, until exhaustion choked her and her legs turned to lead. Lost. She was utterly lost, the image of Shah Rukh Khan fading away as fear prickled at her skin. This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't showing Roop who's boss.

It was the red light area...

The air thickened, heavy with a cloying perfume and the unmistakable tang of desperation. Harsh laughter echoed from doorways, punctuated by the coarse shouts of men. Dim, flickering bulbs cast an unsettling glow on scantily clad figures leaning against windows. Chand froze, her six-year-old world shattering into a million unrecognizable pieces. A calloused hand clamped onto her arm, a painted smile splitting a face caked in makeup. Terror choked Chand's scream as the woman yanked her closer.

The woman's grip was tight, her voice a low murmur that sent shivers down Chand's spine. "Who are you with, little one?" Her heavily kohled eyes glittered with an unknown intent. The woman's appearance, a kaleidoscope of bold makeup and revealing clothing, would have captivated Chand under normal circumstances. Now, it only fueled her terror.

A primal scream ripped from Chand's throat as she shoved the woman away. The woman stumbled back, momentarily stunned. Seizing the opportunity, Chand bolted. She didn't care where she was going, only that she put as much distance between herself and the woman as possible.

The labyrinthine alleys of the red light area swallowed her whole. The stench of cheap perfume and stale sweat clogged her nostrils, mingling with the ever-present undercurrent of fear. Harsh music thrummed from unseen doorways, a counterpoint to the drunken shouts and coarse laughter that spilled out onto the street.

Each flickering bulb cast grotesque shadows that danced on the damp walls. Chand's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo in the symphony of her terror. Regret, cold and heavy, coiled in her gut. This wasn't rebellion. This was a nightmare. The thrill of defiance had evaporated, leaving behind a paralyzing fear. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the already confusing maze of streets.

She had to get out. But where? Every alley looked the same, every corner led deeper into the unknown. The men here, unlike the ones who walked hand-in-hand with their families, were a different breed altogether. They lurked in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with a hunger that sent chills down to her very bones.

A vice clamped down on Chand's arm. A shriek died in her throat as she spun around, terror widening her eyes. This woman wasn't painted and adorned like the others. This one was a predator, her face etched with lines that spoke of a life hardened by cruelty. A feral grin split her lips, revealing chipped and stained teeth.

"Well, well, well," the woman rasped, her voice a gravelly whisper. "Look what I found. A little lost lamb all alone."

Chand's breath hitched. The woman's grip tightened, her touch like sandpaper against Chand's bare skin. Panic clawed at her throat, stealing her voice. She yanked back with all her might, but the woman's grip held firm.

"Don't struggle, little one," the woman crooned, a sickeningly sweet melody in the symphony of Chand's terror. "You'll just make it harder on yourself. You'll be bringing in the big bucks soon enough."

Chand didn't understand the words, but the malice dripping from them sent a fresh wave of terror crashing over her. This wasn't a game anymore. This was real. This was danger.

The woman lunged forward, a predator closing in on its prey. Her grip tightened, and with a sickening tug, she began to drag Chand towards a building shrouded in darkness, a neon sign buzzing with a single, obscene word: "Paradise."

She was dragging her to the brothel...

"Jiyu! Take this little one to my room and lock her up tight!" the vile woman barked, her voice laced with cruel amusement.

A hulking figure emerged from the shadows. Jiyu, the woman's enforcer, towered over Chand, his face obscured by the dim light. Terror knotted Chand's stomach, icy tendrils reaching up to squeeze her heart.

"No! Please!" she shrieked, desperate pleas tearing from her throat.

Jiyu scooped her up with practiced ease, ignoring her flailing limbs. Tears streamed down Chand's face, her choked cries swallowed by the indifferent night.

"Help! Someone please help me!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with terror.

But the labyrinthine alleys remained silent, a chilling testament to the apathy that thrived in this wretched place. Here, stolen innocence was a commonplace horror, a transaction conducted under the flickering gaze of neon signs.

A sliver of hope, fragile as a spider's thread, pierced through Chand's despair. In the distance, a flicker of movement caught her eye. A tall figure, clad in a tight t-shirt and baggy tracks, emerged from an alleyway. Could it be...?

Chand's breath hitched. The figure was moving away, but the way he carried himself, a familiar swagger in his gait...it had to be him! But a knot of uncertainty tightened in her stomach. In this place of shadows and deceit, could she trust her eyes?

"Tall handsome man!" she cried out, her voice a desperate plea laced with a sliver of hope. The figure paused, its head turning slightly. Was that a flash of recognition?

"Tall handsome man!!" she screamed again, her voice hoarse but filled with a last ditch effort.

Her voice, a desperate beacon in the darkness, shattered the night's indifference. Heads swiveled, conversations halted. The red light area, for a fleeting moment, held its breath.

Abhimanyu, too, turned at the sound of the frantic plea. "Tall handsome man!" the voice echoed, laced with a tremor of hope that sliced through him. His gaze snagged on a small figure struggling in the burly grip of a man.

Confusion clouded Abhimanyu's features as his eyes landed on the girl. Was it...? But the hopeful glint in her tear-filled eyes held a flicker of recognition that tugged at something deep within him.

♤♤♤

I forgot the number of times people told me to give up on writing... but I never did... God! I was so persistent back then. I need the old me again. I wish to have the same confidence in me again.

Your love and support is what keeps me going so please do leave a bunch of comments, and don't forget to vote♡