2000+ words

Chupke se aakar is dil mein utar jaate ho,saanson mein apni khushboo chhod jaate ho,kuch aur nahi aata tumhe pyar karne ke siwa, zindagi ko tum meri khubsurat bana jaate ho.

Ashwin's pov:

We made our way to the car, Viyaan taking the driver's seat while I settled into the passenger side. As we pulled away from the hospital, the weight of the day's events began to settle in.

The drive home was filled with a mix of silence and sporadic conversation. We talked about the happier times before everything had become so complicated—family dinners, vacations, and the simple joy of spending time together without the shadow of danger looming over us.

"Remember that trip to Shimla?" Viyaan asked, a wistful smile crossing his face. "We were so carefree back then."

I nodded, a similar smile touching my lips. "Yeah, those were good times. It feels like a lifetime ago."

We lapsed into silence again, each lost in our thoughts. The journey seemed both endless and too short, the road stretching out ahead of us and bringing us back to a reality that felt almost surreal.

Finally, the car came to a stop in front of the mansion. We stepped out, and to our surprise, the entire family was gathered there. I turned to Viyaan, raising an eyebrow. "Were they supposed to come today?"

Viyaan shook his head, equally puzzled. "No, I didn't know they were coming."

I sighed, knowing we had to be careful about what we said. "Alright, let's not mention anything about Anshika or Vikram right now. We'll figure out the best way to handle this later."

Just then, Sai, our little cousin, came running towards us, her face lighting up with pure joy. "Ashwin Bhaiya! Viyaan Bhaiya!" she cried, wrapping her small arms around our legs in a tight hug.

I bent down, lifting her into my arms. "Hey, Sai! How's my favorite girl?"

She giggled, her laughter like a balm to my frayed nerves. "I'm good, Bhaiya! We missed you!"

We made our way inside, where the rest of the family greeted us warmly. Despite the heavy burden on my mind, seeing their smiling faces brought a small measure of comfort. Mom was in the kitchen, as usual, preparing a meal that filled the house with delicious aromas. Dad was in the living room, reading a newspaper but he looked up and smiled as we entered.

"Boys, it's good to have you back," Dad said, folding the paper and setting it aside. "How's everything?"

I forced a smile, trying to keep the conversation light. "Everything's fine, Dad. Just been busy with work."

Viyaan and I exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to keep up appearances for now. I turned to him and said, "Go freshen up. We'll leave in exactly 30 minutes."

He nodded and dashed to his room, understanding the urgency. As I was about to head to my own room, I heard Dadu call my name. I knew he would ask about Anshika, and I wasn't ready to discuss it just yet.

"Dadu, can we talk about this later? I need to freshen up first," I said quickly, not giving him a chance to respond. His eyes showed concern, but he nodded reluctantly.

I dashed to my room and headed straight for the shower.

As I stood under the stream of cold water, I let the icy droplets wash over me, feeling them penetrate the layers of tension and fatigue that had built up throughout the day. Each drop seemed to carry away a fragment of the stress and worry that had been weighing me down, leaving me feeling lighter, more refreshed.

With each inhale, I filled my lungs with the crisp, clean scent of the shower, allowing it to invigorate my senses and clear my mind. The rhythmic sound of the water hitting the tiles provided a soothing backdrop to my thoughts, helping to drown out the noise of the outside world.

Yet, even as the water worked its magic on my weary body, my mind remained firmly anchored to the events of the day. The image of Anshika lying in the hospital bed, her face pale and fragile, haunted me, reminding me of the urgency of our situation. Her safety was paramount, and I was determined to do whatever it took to protect her from harm.

As I lathered shampoo into my hair, my thoughts turned to Vikram and the threat he posed. His actions had shattered our peace, plunging us into a maelstrom of uncertainty and fear. But I refused to let him win. I would not allow his malicious schemes to tear us apart.

Stepping out of the shower, I reached for a towel and began to dry myself off, the rough fabric brushing against my skin in a comforting embrace. Despite the lingering weight of our problems, I felt a sense of renewed determination coursing through me. I would face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and resolve, knowing that I had the unwavering support of my family by my side.

With a final glance at the clock, I realized that our allotted time was running short. Hastily, I dressed myself, pulling on fresh clothes and smoothing down any wrinkles with practiced efficiency. Time was of the essence, and I could not afford to waste a single moment.

As I made my way downstairs, I noticed Viyaan descending the staircase at the same time. He looked refreshed, though the concern in his eyes mirrored my own. We both knew the next few days were crucial, and we had to be on guard constantly.

Just as we reached the bottom of the stairs, Dadu appeared, his expression a mixture of worry and expectation. His white hair, usually neatly combed, seemed slightly disheveled, a testament to his anxious pacing. He wasted no time, his voice filled with concern as he asked, "How is Anshika and where is she? Why isn't she picking up any of our calls?"

Panic flickered within me as I realized the reason. Her phone. I had taken it from Meera when we rushed to the hospital, and it was still in my car. But I couldn't afford to tell him that now. Maintaining our facade of normalcy was critical. I quickly composed myself, forcing a calm tone into my voice, "Dadu, she's fine. She's in her office and also she won't return at least for a week as she needs some time away from everything. Also she got some important meetings regarding a collab with Yoga thing."

Dadu's brows furrowed, his worry deepening. The lines on his face, a map of years gone by, seemed to etch deeper with each passing second. Sensing the need for distraction, Viyaan jumped in, his voice filled with cheerful distraction, "Dadu, you know how the business rules are and also yoga teachers and few therapists? They probably advised her to switch off her phone and get some peace without interruptions."

Dadu seemed to consider this for a moment, the tension in his posture easing slightly. He gave a reluctant nod, his eyes still clouded with concern, and we seized the opportunity to move towards the door.

Just as we thought we were in the clear, our mother appeared, blocking our path. Her presence was formidable, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze piercing. "Where are you two rushing off to?" she asked, her tone both curious and stern. "Come, sit for a moment. We need to talk."

I tried to protest, my mind racing with the urgency of getting back to Anshika. "Maa, we have something important to take care of. Can it wait?"

But her resolve was unyielding. "No, Ashwin. Sit down. Both of you. We haven't seen you properly in days, and now that you're here, you can spare a few minutes."

I exchanged a helpless glance with Viyaan. He shrugged slightly, understanding that arguing was futile. With a resigned sigh, we followed her into the living room and took our seats on the couch. The whole family was gathered, their eyes filled with questions and concern.

The room was a blend of familiar scents and warmth—chai brewing in the kitchen, the faint smell of sandalwood from the incense burning in the corner—but today it felt different. The weight of our secret made the air heavy. As we settled down, I could feel the impatience bubbling inside me. Every second away from Anshika felt like an eternity.

Our mother, sensing the tension, tried to steer the conversation towards lighter topics. She asked about our work, general well-being, and other mundane matters. Viyaan and I responded politely, our answers curt and to the point. My mind kept drifting back to the hospital, to Anshika. Her pale face, the steady beep of the monitors, the sterile smell of antiseptic—all vivid in my mind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the conversation shifted back to Anshika. Our mother, with a hint of suspicion in her voice, asked, "Are you sure Anshika is okay? You both seem a bit on edge."

I forced a smile, trying to mask my anxiety. "Yes, Maa. She's fine. Just a bit stressed, but nothing to worry about. The doctors are taking good care of her."

Viyaan chimed in, "He meant Yoga teachers and therapists. We just need to make sure everything is in order for her return. That's why we're a bit preoccupied."

Our mother seemed to accept this explanation, though her eyes remained skeptical. She gave a small nod, her concern not entirely alleviated. The worry lines on her forehead, usually smoothed by her gentle smile, were prominent today. "Alright. Just promise me you'll take care of yourselves too."

I nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping her in the dark. "We will, Maa. We promise."

After another few minutes of small talk, we finally managed to extricate ourselves from the living room. As we walked towards the door, I felt a sense of urgency propelling me forward. We had wasted enough time.

Outside, the late afternoon sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the mansion grounds. Viyaan and I headed straight to the car, and as soon as we were inside, I reached for Anshika's phone. It was still in the glove compartment, exactly where I had left it.

Turning it on, I saw several missed calls and messages from our family. I quickly sent a message from her phone, assuring them that she was fine and just needed rest. It wasn't the full truth, but it was enough for now.

With that done, Viyaan started the car, and we sped off towards the hospital. The drive was quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts. 

As we approached the hospital, the atmosphere was different from when we had left. The usually calm and sterile environment was now a scene of chaos and panic. Viyaan and I parked the car hastily, and as we stepped out, the sounds of sirens and frantic voices filled the air.

We rushed inside, our hearts pounding with dread. The hospital corridors were filled with people running in every direction, doctors and nurses trying to manage the crisis, and security personnel struggling to maintain order. Blood stained the white floors, creating a gruesome trail that led down the hallway. The sight was horrifying, and it only fueled our urgency.

Our eyes widened in shock as we saw Meera, the helper, lying in front of a door, her body covered in blood and riddled with bullet wounds. The sight of her lifeless form was a punch to the gut. She had been a loyal and caring presence, and now she lay motionless, a victim of the violence that had erupted in the very place meant for healing.

Many of the guards we had stationed were also down, some dead and others writhing in pain, their groans adding to the cacophony of the scene. People were crying out in pain and fear, their faces twisted in anguish. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare.

"Anshika!" I shouted, my voice barely audible over the chaos. Viyaan and I exchanged a glance, our shared terror palpable. We ran as fast as we could towards Anshika's room, our hearts heavy with fear for her safety.

Bursting into her room, we were met with an eerie silence. The bed was empty, and there was no sign of her. The room was in disarray, indicating a struggle had taken place. Our eyes were immediately drawn to the wall opposite the bed.

Written in blood, smeared across the sterile white surface, were the chilling words: "Revenge! And I will win this time."