The early morning sun streamed gently through the windows of the Murthy residence, casting a soft glow over the house, though there was no warmth in the air. The atmosphere was thick with a sorrow that weighed heavily on everyone.

As Soha and Vikrant arrived at the doorstep, their faces were clouded with guilt and uncertainty. They had come to apologize, to face Vishakha, hoping their words could somehow ease the heavy burden that weighed on all their hearts.

Bela opened the door, her eyes narrowing slightly as she saw Vikrant standing beside Soha. Though she didn’t fully trust him still without a word, she led them through the quiet halls of the house, where each step seemed to echo with the absence of Nandini’s usual energy and warmth. They reached Vishakha’s room, the door slightly ajar. Bela pushed it open gently, revealing a heart-wrenching sight.

Vishakha sat on the floor, surrounded by scattered photos of Nandini, her hands trembling as she held one close to her chest. Her eyes were red and swollen from endless tears, and her face was pale, drained of all its usual strength and dignity. She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t eaten. She had spent the night crying, consumed by the unbearable fear of losing the one person who had become her reason to live.

Bela stepped aside, allowing Soha and Vikrant to enter the room. They approached cautiously, each step heavy with guilt and shame. They sat down on either side of her, not knowing how to begin, how to breach the wall of grief that surrounded her.

For a long time, no one spoke. Vishakha just continued to gaze at the photographs, her tears slipping silently down her cheeks. Soha and Vikrant exchanged a glance, both uncertain, both wracked with the knowledge that their actions had contributed to the pain that now engulfed the room.

Finally, Vishakha’s voice broke the silence, low and trembling. “You know,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “when I first met Navya, she was so small, only a year old. She would always stay with me, even more than Bela.” Her voice cracked, and she blinked back more tears, her eyes focused on a distant memory.

“When I moved in with Bela and Mahir, slowly she grew up. Navya would follow me everywhere. She would sit by my side and tell me stories… stories that a two or three-year-old shouldn’t even know.” Vishakha let out a small, broken laugh, though there was no joy in it. “She always tried to make me smile. She never let me feel alone.”

Soha and Vikrant listened quietly, their hearts heavy with the depth of Vishakha’s sorrow. Soha shifted uncomfortably, her guilt growing stronger with every word that passed Vishakha’s lips.

“But still,” Vishakha continued, her voice soft and filled with a deep sadness, “Navya wasn’t mine. She belonged to Bela and Mahir. I could never keep her with me all the time, no matter how much I wanted to.”

She paused, staring down at the photo of Nandini in her hand. Her fingers trembled as she traced the edges of the image, her tears falling freely now.

“And then I met Nandini,” Vishakha said, her voice breaking. “She was so small, so innocent. She didn’t remember anything about the orphanage when she grew up. She was just this… this ray of light that came into my life when everything was dark.” Her voice trembled more, and she struggled to hold herself together. “Mahir and Bela… they treated her and Navya equally. They loved them both so much. But for me, Nandini… she gave me a reason to live. She became everything to me.”

Vishakha’s body shook as she finally let out the sobs she had been holding in, her grief bursting forth like a dam breaking under the pressure. She clutched the photo of Nandini to her chest as if it were the girl herself as if holding the picture close could somehow bring her back.

“I can’t lose her,” she sobbed, her voice breaking as she rocked back and forth. “I can’t… I can’t lose her…”

Soha’s heart shattered at the sight. She hadn’t expected Vishakha’s grief to be this overwhelming, this raw. She had known Nandini was important to her, but she hadn’t understood just how deep that bond ran. Tears welled up in Soha’s eyes as she reached out, placing a trembling hand on Vishakha’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Soha whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “This is my fault… all of this is my fault. I said horrible things to her… things I didn’t mean. I told her that she was taking you and Manik away from me, and I just… I just lost control. If I hadn’t… if I hadn’t said those things, maybe she wouldn’t have fallen. Maybe she wouldn’t be in that hospital right now.” Her voice cracked as the weight of her guilt finally overtook her. “Please… please forgive me.”

Vishakha didn’t respond. She just kept crying, her fingers gripping the photograph even tighter, her body trembling with the force of her sobs.

Vikrant, who had been silent until now, lowered his head, the guilt of his own mistakes pressing down on him like a heavy stone. He couldn’t stand seeing Vishakha like this, knowing that he, too, had caused her pain.

“I’m sorry too,” Vikrant said quietly, his voice filled with regret. “I wasn’t there for you when I should have been. I let my mother’s words come between us, and I never gave you the chance to explain. I let the distance grow, and now… now I see how much it’s hurt you.” He swallowed hard, his tears welling up. “I’m sorry for all of it, Vishakha. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most.”

Vishakha still said nothing, her grief too overwhelming to process their words. She just stared down at the photos of Nandini, lost in her pain, her mind unable to focus on anything else.

Seeing that their words weren’t reaching her, Soha and Vikrant exchanged another glance, unsure of what to do next. They felt awkward, out of place, like intruders in a space that was too sacred for them to enter. They stood up slowly, their movements hesitant.

“We should go,” Soha whispered to Vikrant, her voice barely audible. “She needs time.”

Vikrant nodded in agreement. They both began to walk toward the door, their footsteps soft, not wanting to disturb Vishakha any further.

As they stepped into the hallway, they were met by Mahir, who had been quietly observing from a distance. His face was drawn, tired, and though he didn’t trust Vikrant completely, he knew now wasn’t the time for accusations or suspicion.

Mahir nodded at them, though the tension between him and Vikrant was still palpable. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was clear—he was watching them closely, ready to step in if necessary.

“We’re leaving,” Vikrant said softly, his voice respectful, as if he understood that he was on thin ice with Mahir and the rest of the family.

Mahir nodded again, though his eyes remained wary. “Be careful,” he said, his voice low but firm. It wasn’t just a command, but a warning, a reminder that he was still protective of Vishakha and Nandini and that any further pain caused would not be easily forgiven.

Vikrant simply nodded, his head lowered in acknowledgment, and with that, he and Soha left the house, the weight of their guilt still heavy on their shoulders.

The atmosphere in the hospital was suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that creeps into your bones and makes it hard to breathe. Raj, Neyonika, Bela, and Mahir arrived at the hospital, their faces filled with worry and exhaustion as if the weight of the situation had aged them overnight. They spotted Cabir speaking with the doctor at the far end of the hallway, his face a mixture of determination and desperation. But their eyes quickly fell on Manik, sitting beside Nandini, his eyes fixed on her face, his expression hollow and unreadable.

Manik had not spoken a word since Nandini had slipped into a coma. He hadn’t eaten properly, hadn’t slept, hadn’t even moved from his place next to her bed. He simply stared at her, as if willing her to wake up, to open her eyes, to give him some sign that she was still there with him.

Neyonika’s heart clenched at the sight of her son. She could see how much pain he was in, but he refused to show it, bottling everything up inside. She approached him slowly, crouching beside him. “Manik,” she whispered, her voice soft but pleading, “you should go home and rest, at least for a little while. You need to take care of yourself.”

But Manik didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on Nandini’s still face as if he hadn’t heard his mother’s words at all. Neyonika’s hand hovered uncertainly above his shoulder, wanting to comfort him but unsure how. She bit her lip, fighting back her own tears. She hadn’t seen him like this—so unresponsive, so lost.

Cabir approached, having finished speaking with the doctor. “Manik,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “come home with me. Just for a little while, okay? You need to change your clothes. You can’t sit here like this forever.”

Manik didn’t even blink. His silence was heavy, filled with an emptiness that scared everyone around him.

Raj and Mahir exchanged a worried glance. Mahir took a step forward, kneeling next to Manik. “Manik, beta,” he said, his tone fatherly, “I know you want to be here, but you need to listen to your friends. You can come back, but for now, just go and rest. We’re all here with her.”

Still, Manik said nothing. His hand remained on Nandini’s, fingers intertwined with hers, as if he feared that letting go would somehow break the fragile connection between them.

Cabir sighed, defeated, knowing that no amount of convincing would get through to him right now. He turned to Neyonika, giving her a small nod. “I’ll go home and change. I’ll be back soon,” Cabir said quietly, knowing that Manik wouldn’t leave Nandini’s side for anything. As he walked out of the hospital, his heart felt heavy, knowing his friend was in a deep spiral of pain.

Neyonika knelt down beside Manik again, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She couldn’t bear to see her son like this, so distant and cold, a shadow of the vibrant young man he used to be. She gently placed a tiffin box in his lap, opening it. “Manik, please,” she pleaded softly, her voice breaking. “At least eat something. You need to stay strong for her.”

For the first time in hours, Manik moved. He took the food from his mother’s hands without saying a word and took a few small bites. Each bite seemed like a mechanical motion, devoid of any real awareness. Neyonika watched him, her heart breaking further with each passing moment. He was eating, but it was as though he were a robot—disconnected, his mind far away.

After he had eaten a few bites, Manik set the tiffin aside and resumed his position, his eyes once again fixed on Nandini’s pale face. Neyonika wiped a tear from her cheek, feeling utterly helpless. She wished there was something—anything—she could do to ease his pain. But she knew that the only thing that would bring her son back was if Nandini woke up.

Time passed in slow, agonizing minutes. Eventually, the rest of the Fab 4—Mukti, Alya, Dhruv—Cabir, and Abhimanyu arrived at the hospital. Navya followed shortly after, her face drawn with worry. They all gathered outside Nandini’s room, exchanging grim looks, their hearts heavy with the weight of the situation. The air was thick with tension, sadness, and a sense of helplessness that none of them could shake.

The doctor came out of the room to check on Nandini, giving the group a slight nod before addressing them. “She’s responding to the treatment,” he said, his voice cautious but hopeful. “We can’t make any promises, but there’s a chance she could wake up. It’s important to keep a positive environment around her. Talk to her, remind her of happy things. She can hear you, even if she can’t respond.”

As soon as the doctor left, the group filed into Nandini’s room one by one. The atmosphere was different now—there was a flicker of hope amidst the darkness, even if it was fragile. Cabir, and Abhimanyu, were the first to approach Manik, explaining what the doctor had said.

“Manik,” Cabir said softly, crouching beside him, “the doctor said she can hear us. She’s responding. We just have to keep talking to her, okay? She needs to hear us.”

Manik remained silent, his grip on Nandini’s hand tightening slightly as if that was the only thing keeping him grounded.

The rest of the group took a collective breath before sitting around the room. Cabir, Alya, Mukti, Dhruv, Abhimanyu, and Navya exchanged glances, each of them knowing they had to pull themselves together, not just for Nandini but for Manik as well.

Cabir forced a smile and began talking, his voice shaky but filled with warmth. “Nandini, you’ve always been the fighter, right? Remember that time when we went to a temple in Jaipur and there were so many stairs but you were the only one who didn’t get tired? You were practically dragging the rest of us up that temple.”

Alya chimed in, her voice soft but filled with emotion. “And remember when you convinced me to wear that hideous pink dress for boating when we were in Udaipur? God, I hated that dress, but you made me feel like a princess in it.”

Bela smiled through her tears. “You’re the one who always held us together, Nandu. You can’t leave us now, okay? We still need you here.”

Dhruv spoke next, his voice cracking slightly as he looked at her fragile form. “You’re stronger than this, Nandini. I know you’ll come back to us. You have to.”

Navya, who had been silent until now, moved closer to the bed, her eyes full of tears. “Nandu, you’re my best friend. I need you, okay? Please… please come back to us.”

Abhimanyu placed a hand on Manik’s shoulder, trying to offer support. “She’s listening, Manik. She’ll wake up. You just have to keep believing.”

But Manik still didn’t speak. He was frozen in his grief, in his fear. His mind was somewhere far away, locked in the endless fear of losing the love of his life. His friends’ words floated around him like a distant echo, but none of it could penetrate the wall he had built around himself.

Everyone took turns speaking to Nandini, their words filled with love, hope, and the desperate need for her to wake up. The room was filled with memories, stories, and laughter—an effort to create the happiness the doctor had said Nandini needed. But through it all, Manik remained silent, his eyes never leaving Nandini’s face.

And though they didn’t know it, each word spoken, each tear shed, each story shared, was slowly working its way into Nandini’s mind. Somewhere deep within her, she was listening. She could feel the love that surrounded her. And though she couldn’t respond, though her body remained still, a part of her was fighting.

For them. For him.
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Hope u all like the chapter.....

Few words for Manik....

Few words for Nandini....

Few words for Vishakha....

Few words for Vikrant and Soha....

When will Nandini wake up???

What were your favourite moments???

Thank u 🙂🙂

Love,
Kiara ❤️❤️