The warm glow of the reading lamp cast a soft light over JR Saxena's study, casting an amber hue across the polished mahogany furniture and the aged leather armchair where Rahul Saxena sat, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. His gaze was transfixed on the portrait of his late mother, Kavita, that hung proudly on the wall.

The ticking of the ornate grandfather clock punctuated the silence as if accentuating Rahul's growing unease. In a fleeting moment, his grip tightened around the glass, and he envisioned it shattering against the wall—a release of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "I raised you better than that" Kavita's voice rang out in his head.

Rahul clenched his jaw, the bittersweet memories of Piya Sharma flooding his mind. The girl he held responsible for his mother's broken heart and anguished final days. It had been nearly a decade since he had last seen or heard from her, yet the pain lingered like a dull ache.

"Piya Sharma," Rahul finally uttered, the name rolling off his tongue with a mix of bitterness and resignation. "After all these years, you want me to reach out to her?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unresolved tension, as he contemplated whether the ghosts of the past could ever truly be laid to rest or if they would forever haunt the corners of his heart.

JR leaned back in his chair, his expression earnest and hopeful. "Rahul, I know this isn't an easy thing to ask. But please, hear me out."

Rahul's grip tightened on the glass, the clink of ice against crystal cutting through the stillness. "What more is there to say, Dad? Piya disappeared from our lives a decade ago, leaving my mother heartbroken in her final days. We owe that ungrateful girl nothing."

"There is a reason I am asking you this" JR interjected gently. He understood how Rahul felt about Piya. "Kavita never lost hope that Piya would come back to us. Even on her deathbed, she made me promise to look after the girl."

Rahul's jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck straining against the surge of emotion. "And what good did that do? Piya refused to even pick up the phone when Mother called. She abandoned us when we needed her the most."

JR sighed heavily. "I know, son. I know the pain Kavita went through. But Piya was grieving too, in her own way. You have to understand, she too, lost a lot."

"That doesn't excuse her actions," Rahul snapped, the bitterness in his voice palpable. "We were her family, and she turned her back on us."

"Rahul, please." JR leaned forward, his eyes imploring. "Kavita believed in Piya, even when no one else did. She saw the potential in that young girl, the brightness that was dimmed by tragedy. I want to honor that memory, to keep the promise I made to her."

Rahul felt the weight of his father's words, the echoes of his mother's voice stirring up memories he had long tried to bury. "And what if Piya refuses to accept the help? This would not be the first time you have offered her assistance.

Rahul's gaze fell to the swirling liquid in his glass, the amber hue reflecting the turmoil within. He could picture Piya, the once vibrant and carefree girl, now a ghost haunting the edges of his memories. The thought of her had always been a double-edged sword, a mixture of anger and pity that he had never been able to reconcile.

JR kept silent, giving Rahul the mental space he needed. He walked up to the bar to pour himself another drink. Rahul watched his father walk across the room, the weight of his father's request pressing heavily on his shoulders. As he stared at the portrait of his mother, the memories of a happier time resurfaced, taunting him with the promise of what could have been.

"I'll... I'll think about it," Rahul finally conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't promise anything, Father. Not when it comes to Piya." JR took a sip from his glass and returned to his chair.

"You seem to have a lot of faith in Piya's abilities," he continued, his voice tinged with scepticism. "What makes you so certain that she can deliver on a project of this scale? It's been almost a decade since we've heard from her."

JR's gaze held a steady resolve. "I've kept tabs on her work over the years, Rahul. She may have disappeared from our lives, but she's continued to build an impressive portfolio with her small company. The clients she's worked with have nothing but praise for her skills."

Rahul's brow furrowed as he processed his father's words. "And you think she'll even be interested in accepting a project from us? After all these years, why would she want to engage with us again?"

"That's where you come in, my son," JR said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I believe if the opportunity is presented to her in the right way, she may just be open to it."

Rahul sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And what if her work doesn't meet our standards? I won't risk the reputation of my company on a gamble."

"All I ask is that you give her a fair chance," JR said, his voice calm and reassuring. "If her proposal doesn't impress you, then so be it. But at least she'll have the opportunity to showcase her abilities."

Rahul considered his father's words, the tension in his shoulders gradually ebbing away. "Alright, Father," he conceded. "I'll have my team identify a suitable project and extend an invitation to Piya's company. "

JR's face lit up with a genuine smile. " I have a good feeling about this. Piya deserves a chance to prove herself, and I believe she'll rise to the occasion."

Rahul nodded, his gaze drifting back to the portrait of his mother. "For your sake, and for Mother's, I'll do what I can."