AT THE HOSPITAL

At midnight, the nurse came to check on Zaid to make sure he was okay. But the moment she entered the room, she froze.

The bed was empty. There was no sign of Zaid. Her eyes widened as she looked around the room, only to notice a broken IV lying on the floor—most probably torn straight out of someone's arm.

Then her gaze shifted towards the window. It was wide open. Someone had escaped. Not just someone. Zaid Zoravar had escaped.

The nurse immediately ran out of the room in panic. She found the family sitting outside, most of them asleep on the chairs after hours of exhaustion.

"Sir?" she called softly, panic evident in her voice, but careful not to startle anyone.

Samar stirred first. He blinked his sleepy eyes before looking at the nurse. "Woah, woah... what's wrong?" He immediately sat up. "Is it Zaid? Is he okay?"

Shahmir woke up at the sound of his voice, rubbing his eyes as he looked between Samar and the nurse.

The nurse swallowed nervously. "Sir, actually woh..." She glanced towards the room.

(''Actually he...'')

"Woh... bhaag gaye."

(''He....ran away.'')

Both men froze. "What?" They immediately rushed into the room. And there it was. The empty bed. The broken IV on the floor. The open window.

"Shit..." Samar whispered. "Shit, shit, shit..."

He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the window in disbelief. "Fuck." He turned towards Shahmir. "Yaar, tu Uncle aur Papa ko call kar yaar. Yeh ladka pagal ho gaya hai kya?"

(''Fuck.'' Just, call papa and uncle. Has he gone mad?'')

Shahmir didn't say anything. His jaw clenched as he pulled out his phone and walked out of the room. At that moment, Aryaveer returned from the washroom. He stepped into the room and immediately noticed the chaos. His eyes moved towards the empty bed. Then the broken IV.

Then the open window. He sighed. "Of course..." He already knew exactly where Zaid had gone. Aryaveer turned around and headed upstairs. Ira was sitting outside the room where Ava was, keeping watch.

She rolled her eyes the moment she saw her elder brother approaching.

"Bhai, kya hua?" 

(''Brother, what happened.'') 

But the moment she saw the serious expression on his face, her teasing disappeared. Something was wrong.

"Zaid Sahab..." Aryaveer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Disappeared."

Ira's eyes widened. "What?"

"He escaped through the window."

For a moment, Ira simply stared at him. "Bhai... maybe he needed some space." She tried to stay positive. Maybe Zaid Bhai had simply needed some air. Maybe he needed to clear his head. But Aryaveer shook his head.

"No, Ira." His voice was serious. "That's not it."

Ira frowned. Aryaveer looked towards the door where Ava was resting. "Zaid had me get all those men who held a rivalry with him kidnapped."

Ira's expression changed. "He had us keep them in a warehouse." He took a deep breath.

"Woh wahan gaye hai." Ira's eyes widened realisation. "Bhai..."

(''He went there.....Brother.'')

"He's lost it, Ira." Aryaveer shook his head. "Woh tab tak nahi rukega jab tak Mrs. Zoravar ko justice nahi milta."

(''He won't stop until Mrs Zoravar gets justice.'')

There was no stopping Zaid now. Not after seeing what had happened to Ava. Not after finding her broken and injured. Not after realizing someone had dared to hurt his wife.

Aryaveer turned to leave. "Mujhe jaana hoga." He took a few steps before stopping and looking back at his sister. "Mahira aunty aur Anika ko bas inform kar dena."

(''I need to go.....Do inform Mahira Aunty and Anika.'')

His expression softened slightly. "Aur apna khayal rakhna, okay?" He walked back towards her and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Main jaa raha hoon." Then he turned and walked away.

(''And please take care of yourself.'')

Leaving Ira standing there, staring after him. Because somewhere in Lucknow, Zaid Zoravar was no longer a husband sitting helplessly beside a hospital bed. He was a man on his way to make the entire lucknow pay.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Two hours had passed, and the hospital was still in complete chaos. Aryaveer had secretly gone to check the warehouse himself because if Shahveer found out what he had done, he knew exactly what would happen.

First, Shahveer would kill Aryaveer. Then he would bury Zaid alive for pulling such shit. So it was better that he didn't tell him.

But when Aryaveer reached the warehouse, he froze. Zaid wasn't there. His eyes moved around the empty warehouse in disbelief. The men they had kidnapped—the corrupt politicians who had held a rivalry with Zaid—were supposed to be there.

But they weren't. Not a single one of them. Aryaveer swallowed hard. It could only mean one thing. In the short time since escaping the hospital, Zaid had already moved those men somewhere else.

Somewhere no one knew about. And only Mata Rani knew what the hell he was doing to them.

Back at the hospital, Shahveer kept making calls. One after another. But there was still no sign of his son. His patience was wearing thin, his jaw clenched as he stared at his phone.

The only thing grounding him was Mahira's hand resting gently on his arm. Even Samar and Shahmir had been gone for hours, searching for their best friend, worried as hell.

Zaid never disappeared like this. Never. Even when he was losing his mind, even when he wasn't thinking straight, he always reached out to them before taking any step.

But this time... 

He had simply vanished. And that genuinely scared them. It wasn't long before morning finally arrived. The first rays of sunlight slowly entered through the hospital windows.

And finally, Ava woke up.

She had fallen asleep sometime during the night, not because she was comfortable, but because she desperately wanted to escape reality. She had failed. She had failed to protect her brother. The only reason she had kept going all these years. The only person who had made her believe that perhaps life was still worth living.

And she had failed him. Now, lying there with her body aching and her heart shattered, Ava couldn't help but feel as though her entire life had lost its meaning.

As though there was no reason left for her to keep living.

The door suddenly opened. Mahira walked inside. The moment her eyes landed on Ava's bruised face, her expression softened despite the exhaustion in her eyes.

"A-Ammi..." Ava called softly.

(''M-mother....'')

For a moment, she wasn't sure whether she was playing the character anymore. Or perhaps, somewhere deep inside, she genuinely just wanted someone to hold her. Someone to tell her that everything would be okay. Even if it was only for a moment. Mahira immediately rushed towards her.

"Kya hua, meri bachi? Kuch chahiye? Dard ho raha hai?"

(''What happened, sweetheart? You need something? Is it hurting?'')

She tried her hardest not to cry. Just looking at her daughter-in-law like this made her heart ache. Ava shook her head slightly before whispering,

"Ammi... humein bas ghar jaana hai. Please."

(''Mother....I just want to go home. Please.'')

Her voice was so small. So broken.

Mahira's heart clenched. Without saying another word, she carefully wrapped her arms around Ava, making sure not to hurt her injured body.

"Haan, meri jaan..." she whispered, gently caressing her hair. "Shhh... hum ghar jaayenge."

(''Yes, my child.'')

(''We will go home.'')

She knew what Ava needed right now. She needed comfort. She needed familiarity. And perhaps, right now, the Zoravar Estate was the closest thing to home she had.

Mahira continued holding her while making a phone call to arrange everything.

A few moments later, there was a soft knock on the door.

Shahveer stood outside. He waited for permission before entering. The moment he saw Ava awake, his eyes glistened. Her bruised face, the bandages, the exhaustion in her eyes...

It broke something inside him. But he couldn't cry. Not in front of her. She was already hurting enough. So instead, he forced a small smile onto his face. "Ava, bache... kaisa feel ho raha hai?"

(''Ava, darling...how are you feeling?'')

Ava took a slow breath. "Thoda sa dard hai, Abba," she whispered. She paused before forcing herself to smile. "Otherwise... I am fine."

(''I am having little pain, father.'')

Shahveer's heart clenched. He didn't question her. He knew she was lying. He knew she was hiding her pain because she didn't want them to worry. But she was anything but fine.

"Bache..." he asked softly, his voice carrying the tenderness of a father speaking to his own little girl. "Ghar jaana hai?"

(''You want to go home?'')

Ava nodded. "Ji, Abba."

(''Yes, father.'')

"Then we will go home." He gave her another small smile before turning around.

He needed to get the discharge papers. He needed to make arrangements for the doctor and nurses to come to the estate. If Ava wanted to feel safe there, then he would make sure she had everything she needed.

But just as he reached the door—

"Abba..."

(''Father.'')

He stopped.

Ava looked between him and Mahira, her brows furrowing slightly. "Woh..." Her voice became softer. "Zaid ji kaha hai?" Silence.

(''Uh...where is Zaid?'')

She looked around the room as though perhaps he might suddenly walk through the door. She hadn't seen him. Not even once. "Woh... dikhe nahi."

(''I didn't see him.'')

Her eyes slowly filled with tears. Her husband had made promises to her only a day ago. Promises in the car. Promises that she had believed. And now...

He wasn't even here.

"Woh humse milne bhi nahi aaye..." she whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek.

(''He didn't come to see me.'')

Mahira's heart broke. She immediately sat beside her and pulled her into another careful embrace. "Shhh... meri bachi." She gently wiped the tears from Ava's cheeks. "Your husband will come soon."

(''Shh my child.'')

She forced a smile. "Hum ghar jaayenge, aur tum apne Zaid ji ko wahin dekhogi."

(''We will go home and you will see your Zaid there.'')

But Shahveer... Shahveer stood completely frozen. His anger towards his son returned all over again. His jaw tightened. How could Zaid do this?

How could he leave his wife like this? She was lying there broken, scared and confused, asking for him—and he was nowhere to be found.

He couldn't stay in that room another second. Without saying anything, Shahveer turned around and walked out. His mind was consumed by one thought.

A girl who had done absolutely nothing wrong was suffering. And his own son had left her alone in the middle of it. Shahveer's heart clenched harder with every step.

He had never felt this angry with Zaid. And he had never felt this helpless either. Because somewhere out there was his son... And somewhere else was a girl who only wanted her husband.

A girl who didn't even know that the man she was waiting for had already disappeared into the darkness of Lucknow.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

A ABANDONED WAREHOUSE IN LUCKNOW

Zaid stood by the broken window, an iron rod hanging loosely from his hand. The cold morning air entered through the shattered glass, but he didn't feel it. All he could hear were the sounds behind him.

Whimpers. Crying. Men begging for their lives. The same men who had once believed they were untouchable. The same men who had spent years hiding behind money, power and political connections. Now each of them sat tied tightly to a chair, fear written all over their faces.

In front of them stood an electric chair. And standing around them were Zaid's men, guns in their hands, waiting silently for one order.

Zaid stared out of the window. His expression was unreadable. He had spent his entire life believing that Allah would punish those who did wrong. He never needed to become their punishment. He had always believed justice would find its way to them. But last night had changed something inside him.

Because someone had hurt Ava. His wife. The woman who had been lying in a hospital bed with bruises all over her body while he had been forced to sit there helplessly.

His jaw tightened. His phone vibrated again. Zaid glanced down. Abba calling. He rejected it.

A second later, it started ringing again. Ammi. Rejected.

Then Aryaveer.

Then Shahmir.

Then Samar.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Zaid finally switched the phone off. He shoved it into his pocket and turned around. The moment his eyes landed on the men, the entire room fell silent. One of the politicians immediately began shaking. "Z-Zaid sahab..."

Zaid said nothing. The man swallowed. "Please..." Nothing. "Humne kuch nahi kiya."

(''I didn't do anything.'')

Zaid's eyes slowly narrowed. "Nothing?" His voice was frighteningly calm.

The man nodded desperately. "Ji... ji, humne—"

(''I didn't.'')

"Then tell me..." Zaid took a slow step towards him.

"...who did it?"

The man froze.

Zaid stopped directly in front of him. "Who touched my wife?" Silence. Nobody answered. Zaid's grip tightened around the iron rod. "Ham dobara nahi poochenge."

(''I won't ask again.'')

His voice dropped. "Who?"

One of the men finally broke. "Hum nahi jaante!"

(''I don't know.'')

Zaid's eyes hardened. "Jhoot."

(''Liar.'')

He slammed the iron rod against the metal table beside him.

CLANG.

Every man flinched.

"Tum logon ne hame saalon tak samjha kya tha?"

(''What did you even think of me in all these years?'')

He looked around the room. "A man who would sit quietly and watch while people like you destroyed innocent lives?"

He gave a humorless smile. "Maybe I was." His eyes darkened. "Until you touched her."

The politician in front of him began crying. They knew that they had messed up with not Zaid Zoravar but a husband. "Zaid sahab, please... Allah ke liye humein jaane dijiye."

(''Zaid, please....forigve us for the name of Allah.'')

Something flickered in Zaid's eyes at the mention of Allah. For a moment, he looked away. He took a slow breath.

"Allah ka naam apni zubaan par mat laana." His voice was quiet. "Tumne Allah ke saamne qasam kha kar insaaf karne ki baat ki thi." He looked back at them. "Phir paison ke liye uss insaaf ko bech diya."

(''Don't even take the name of Allah on your lips.....you talked about justice in front of Allah and then you sold it all for money.'')

Nobody spoke. Because it was true all these men swore in front of Allah to never do wrong in the world of Politics and when they got the power they misused it and took advantage of vulnerable people around them.

Zaid stepped closer. "Ab hame batao..." He leaned slightly towards the terrified man. "Us raat Ava ke saath kya hua?"

The man trembled. "Hum... hum sirf orders follow kar rahe the."

(''We were just following orders.'')

"Whose orders?" Silence.

Zaid's patience finally began to crack. "Whose orders?"

"Hum nahi jaante!" Zaid stared at him for several seconds.

(''We don't know.'')

Then he slowly stepped back. "Fine." The men exchanged terrified glances. Zaid turned towards his men. "Chair."

One of his men immediately stepped forward. "Sir?"

Zaid didn't look back. "Switch on karo." The politician's face drained of colour. "Nahi... nahi, Zaid sahab, please!" He began struggling against the ropes.

(''No...no, Zaid, please.'')

"Please! Hum bata denge!"

(''Please! I will tell you.'')

Zaid stopped. Slowly, he turned his head.

"Then start talking."

The man was breathing heavily.

"I-Mahal Sahab..."

Zaid's eyes narrowed.

"Mahal?"

He was one of the workers in his party. It couldn't be

"No..."

The man panicked.

"Not Mahal—"

He immediately corrected himself. Because these men were scared for their lives now. Zaid didn't realise he hadn't just kidnapped any politicians some of them worked in 

"We were given a note to kidnap Mrs Zoravar..."

Zaid went completely still. Someone sent all these bastards a note to kidnap his wife. He walked back towards the man.

"Kaun?"

(''Who?'')

The politician shook his head violently. "Hum nahi jaante..."

Same answer again. Zaid's expression hardened again.

"Tumne hame pagal samjha hai?'' he paused staring at the Politcian then whispered again. ''someone sent you a note to kidnap my wife and you didn't even question it?'')

"I-I was scared—"

Zaid crouched in front of him. For the first time, there was something almost frighteningly empty in his eyes. "Listen to me carefully." He spoke so quietly that the entire room went silent. "Mujhe tumhari jaan nahi chahiye."

(''I don't want your life.'')

The man stared at him. Zaid continued. "Mujhe sach chahiye."

But all of them just lowered their heads.

(''I want the truth.'')

He stood up. "Because the moment I find the person who did this to my wife..."

His eyes moved across every terrified face in the room. "...you won't have to worry about me anymore." A pause. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You'll have to worry about him." He turned away. "Take them downstairs."

One of his men looked confused. "SAHAB?"

Zaid glanced over his shoulder. "None of them leave." He walked towards the door. "And nobody calls the police."

He stopped for one final moment. "Main khud decide karunga kiski saza kya hogi." Then he walked out. Leaving behind a room full of terrified men. And a name that had finally given Zaid something he had been searching for all night.

Someone sent a note.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

ZORAVAR ESTATE IN LUCKNOW

Ava had been brought back to the Zoravar Estate by her in-laws. Her parents had already been called by Anika. In a situation like this, Ava needed her parents. They all knew that. But there was one thing Ava couldn't understand.

Where was Zaid? Why wasn't her husband here? Every few minutes, she would quietly ask the same question. "Ammi... humein Zaid ji nahi dikh rahe."

(''Mother...I am not seeing Zaid.'')

And every single time, Mahira would avoid answering. She would change the subject. Ask her if she needed anything. Talk about food. Talk about the doctor. Anything except Zaid. And Ava noticed. Of course she noticed. As a spy, she noticed everything.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Downstairs, Ira and Saira were busy in the kitchen, preparing light and healthy food for Ava. Something warm. Something comforting. Something that wouldn't upset her stomach.

Meanwhile, Samar and Shahmir were still out looking for their best friend. They had been gone for hours. And Aryaveer had tripled the security around the estate.

Aman had given strict orders to every guard. No one entered without being thoroughly checked. No exceptions.

Upstairs, Ava lay quietly in bed. She wore a loose suit, her dupatta resting beside her as she remained tucked beneath the blankets.

The soup bowl in front of her was finally empty. Mahira picked it up carefully. "Bas, meri bachi. Thoda rest karo."

(''Now, my child. You have to rest.'')

Ava gave her a small nod. Mahira smiled softly before walking out.

The door closed behind her. Silence. For a few seconds, Ava simply stared at it. Then Anika slowly moved towards the door. She peeked through the small gap. She watched Mahira disappear down the stairs. Only when she was sure she was gone did Anika quietly close the door again.

She turned around. And just like that... The act disappeared. No mother-in-law. No injured daughter-in-law. No comforting friend. Just two spies sitting inside one of the most heavily guarded houses in Lucknow.

Anika walked towards the bed and immediately pulled Ava into a tight hug. "I am yaar..." Her voice cracked. "I don't know how to believe this." Ava hugged her back. "I still can't believe Victoria actually did this to you."

But Ava didn't cry. Not properly. Her eyes were dry. Her mind was already somewhere else. She slowly pulled away.

"Anika..." Her voice was quiet. "I don't care."

Anika frowned. "What?"

"I don't care about what happened to me."

"Ava—"

"No."

Ava shook her head. Her eyes hardened. "They are targeting my brother."

Anika fell silent. ''Kabir I mean Tristan?''

Ava nodded  then looked down at her hands. "And the handler was right." Her voice became quieter. "I was going too fast." She swallowed. "I got too close." A pause. "And now I could ruin the entire mission."

Anika sat beside her. "Ava, you were attacked. You were almost killed. You can't seriously blame yourself for—"

"I need you to do something."

Anika stopped. The look in Ava's eyes made her realize this wasn't a request she could brush aside.

She frowned. "What?"

Ava looked towards the closed door. Then back at her.

"I need you to do something for me."

Anika nodded slowly. "Yes."

Ava leaned closer. Then she whispered something directly into Anika's ear.

Anika's entire expression changed. Her eyes widened. For a moment, she simply stared at Ava. "Are you serious?"

Ava nodded.

"Girl..." Anika shook her head in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

Ava's eyes filled with tears. But she didn't look away. "I made this mistake." Her voice trembled. "I have to fix it."

"Ava, this could—"

"I know."

A tear finally slipped down her cheek. "But I need to."

Anika stared at her for a long moment. She knew that expression.Ava had already made up her mind. There was no talking her out of it. So Anika reached forward and gently cupped her face.

"You're an idiot."

Ava gave the smallest, broken smile.

"I know."

Anika leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Fine."

She pulled away.

"But if we're doing this..."

Her expression hardened.

"...we're doing it properly."

Ava nodded. Anika stood up. She took one last look at her friend before walking towards the door. Her hand rested on the handle.

Then she stopped. "Girl?" Ava looked at her. Anika gave her a small smile. "Don't you dare die on me."

Ava's lips trembled. It was the sight only Anika and her brother got to see. "I won't."

Anika opened the door. And walked out. Leaving Ava alone in the room. She slowly leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

Her eyes closed. She had spent months trying to uncover the truth. Trying to complete the mission. Trying to protect everyone around her without exposing herself.

But now...

She was going to do something she had never imagined she would. Something that could destroy everything. Her cover. Her mission. Her marriage. Maybe even her life.

But if it meant saving her brother... Ava was ready. Because sometimes a spy didn't have to choose between the mission and the people she loved.

Sometimes... She had to become willing to lose everything for both. While hoping she wouldn't lose the only person that she fought for every single day.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

Downstairs, Ira was in the kitchen, dressed in a simple green saree. She had bangles on one wrist and a watch on the other, a small pendant resting against her neck. Her long hair was tied into a messy bun, with a tiny bindi on her forehead, simple lip gloss on her lips and jhumkas adorning her ears.

She was quietly preparing everything for the pooja. It was Mahashivratri. Today was supposed to be special for Ava. She was supposed to celebrate it as a part of her religion, but after everything that had happened, she hadn't been able to.

She had been so upset about it that she had even cried. So Mahira had decided to keep a small pooja at the estate.

Just something simple. Something to make Ava feel a little better. Ira was busy kneading the dough when she heard nothing behind her. Samar and Shahmir had just entered the estate after spending hours searching for Zaid.

They were exhausted. Completely drained. But Mahira and Aarohi had practically ordered them back to the estate to eat something.

Because at this point, Zaid had officially lost his mind. Nobody knew where he was. Nobody knew what he was doing. And God only knew when they were going to find him.

Samar, however, had barely stepped inside when the smell of food reached him. His eyes immediately lit up. Food.

Finally. Being the certified foodie that he was, Samar followed the smell straight towards the kitchen.

But the moment he entered...

He stopped. There she was again. That same figure. The same girl who had somehow been appearing in the back of his mind again and again since yesterday.

Ira.

That was her name. He had learned it. And every time he saw her, something flickered inside him.

Something strange. Something he couldn't quite understand. But every single time, Samar ignored it.

So he leaned against the kitchen doorway, silently watching her cook. His eyes wandered for a moment. Then to the way her saree moved as she worked. Then to her waist where the fabric shifted slightly as she reached for something.

Samar immediately looked away. What the hell was he even doing? He cleared his throat. Ira didn't hear him. She turned around to grab something from the counter—

And almost walked straight into him.

"Ah—"

Before she could stumble, Samar immediately caught her. One hand steadying her arm. The other lightly holding her at the waist.

Ira froze. Completely. Her brain simply stopped working. Her breath hitched as she looked up at him.

Samar froze too. For a second, neither of them moved.

Then Ira swallowed hard. "Yeh... uh... aap?"

(''You?'')

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

Samar stared at her. Why was she so scared around him? Or was it just him? He slowly let go and stepped back. "Woah, apsara, chill."

He gave her an awkward smile. "It was a mistake. Tum itna darti kyun ho mujhse?"

(''Why are you so scared of me?'')

Ira immediately stiffened. Her defensive walls came rushing back up. "What? No!" She shook her head. "Hum aapse kuch darte nahi hain, samjhe aap?"

(''I am not scared of you, understood?'')

Samar blinked. For a second, he simply stared at her. Then a mischievous smirk slowly appeared on his face.

"Oh..." He tilted his head. "Toh you do have fire?"

Ira's eyes widened. She immediately looked away. "Aap yahan kya kar rahe hain?"

(''What are you doing here?'')

She changed the topic so quickly that Samar almost laughed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kuch nahi yaar. I just smelled the food."

He pointed towards the kitchen. "And you know... good smells, and Samar eventually follows."

Ira stared at him. "Achha." She went back to the dough, desperately pretending he wasn't standing there. But Samar wasn't leaving.

"Achha suno..." Ira's hands paused. He looked directly at her. "Tumse ek baat poochni thi."

(''Listen.....I wanted to ask something from you.'')

Ira's fingers immediately clenched around the edge of her dupatta. She swallowed. "Aapko humse kya baat karni hai?" She paused.

(''What is it that you wanted to talk to me?'')

Then, because apparently silence was making her even more nervous, she continued. "I mean... aisa kya hai?"

(''I mean what is it?'')

Samar raised an eyebrow.

 Ira kept talking. "Humne kuch kiya hai kya? Agar koi baat hai toh aap seedha boliye. Hum... hum busy hain aur—"

(''Did I do something? Is there something then just say it. I am busy and-''

"Walking speaker."

Ira stopped.

Samar stared at her.

"Zara saans le lo yaar."

(''Take a deep breath.'')

She blinked. He chuckled.

"Main bas pooch raha hoon. Tum ajeeb ho. Pehle sun toh lo main kya kehna chahta hoon."

(''I am just saying. You are really weird. Just listen what I am trying to say.'')

Ira frowned.

"Hum koi speaker-weaker nahi hain."

(''I am not any speaker - weaker.'')

"Okay."

Samar nodded seriously.

"Noted."

Ira sighed. Then softly asked, "Boliye... kya baat hai?"

(''What is it?'')

Samar's playful expression slowly faded.He studied her face for a moment. There was something about her. Something familiar. He couldn't place it. "Yaar..." He hesitated. "Hum kabhi mile hain kya?"

("I mean have we met before?'')

(''Have we met before?'')

Ira froze. Mata Rani....did he realise?

Samar continued. "I mean..." His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Looking at you, I get this weird feeling..." He paused. "Jaise maine tumhe pehle dekha hai."

(''I felt like I have seen you before.'')

Ira's heart dropped. For one terrifying second, everything around her went silent. He remembered. He actually remembered. After all these years... He remembered her. Panic took over before she could stop herself.

"Dekhiye..." She immediately blurted out, "Hum waisi ladki nahi hain jaisa aap soch rahe hain!"

(''Listen....I am not the kind of girl you think I am.'')

Samar's eyebrows shot up.

"What?"

"And stop flirting with me!"

"What?"

"I am a mother!"

Samar's mouth literally fell open.

"What the—"

But Ira had already stormed out.

Samar stood completely frozen in the middle of the kitchen. He stared at the doorway through which she had disappeared.

Silence.

One second.

Two.

Three.

"What the fuck just happened?" He looked around as though someone might explain it to him. Because what the fuck did this girl just say

Just then, Aryaveer walked into the kitchen. "Arre, Ira! Khaana bana kya?"

(''Ira, Is food ready?'')

He stopped. His eyes landed on Samar. Samar was standing there with the most confused expression imaginable.

Aryaveer frowned. "Arre, Samar bhai? Aap?"

(''Samar bro?'')

He looked him up and down. "Kya hua? Aap fresh up nahi hue?"

(''What happened? You didn't fresh up?'')

Samar slowly turned towards him. "Abe yaar..." He pointed towards the kitchen entrance. "Teri behen thodi khiski hui hai kya?"

(''Is your sister out of her mind or what?'')

Aryaveer immediately sighed. "What did she do now?"

Samar stared at him. "Main kuch bhi nahi kar raha tha!"

He quickly explained everything. How Ira had almost fallen into him. How she had panicked. How she kept avoiding eye contact.

And then—

How she had suddenly accused him of flirting and announced that she was a mother before storming away.

Aryaveer listened. Then sighed. "Sorry, bhai." 

He rubbed his forehead. Mata Rani give me strenght to deal with this girl

"Woh aisi hi hai. Main usse baat karunga."

(''She has always been like this. I will talk to her.'')

He turned around and started walking away. But Samar didn't move and whispered. ''Hey its okay Yaar maybe she isn't comfortable don't force to talk to me.''

Aryaveer looked back smiling at how kind Samar was. Ofcourse he was Zaid Sahab bestfriend after all. ''I get you Bhai but this isn't the way to talk. Don't worry I will talk to her.''

Just like that he walked out but Samar stood right there. His eyes remained fixed on the doorway. Because this wasn't just some random awkward behaviour.

He had seen it yesterday too. Every time he came around, Ira panicked. He tried speaking to her, she either avoided him or ran away.

And now she had reacted like he had done something terribly wrong.

But the problem was...

He wasn't even flirting. Not really. At least, not intentionally. Samar frowned. Something about Ira wasn't adding up. And for the first time, he wondered if maybe...

She wasn't scared of him.

Maybe she was scared of him remembering her.

Or was there something he was missing?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

Back at the warehouse... Zaid stood in the middle of the dimly lit room, a file in his hands. He had just finished reading it.

Every page. Every name. Every crime. And somehow, with every page he turned, the anger inside him only grew colder.

These weren't rumours. These weren't accusations. There were statements. Photographs. Medical reports. Witness accounts. Proof.

The first name caught his attention.

Nischit Malhotra.

A fellow politician. Founder of an NGO that publicly preached Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao. A man who stood on stages and spoke about protecting the future of young girls.

Zaid's jaw clenched. Because behind closed doors, Nischit was something else entirely.

A predator. Every weekend, he would choose a girl from the very organisation he claimed to protect.

Girls who trusted him. Girls who believed he was helping them build a better future. And he destroyed that trust.

Some were barely old enough to understand what was happening. Some were young enough to be his granddaughters.

And the worst part?

People knew. Some had witnessed it. Some had heard the girls cry. But Nischit had money. Power. Influence. And whenever someone tried to speak, he made sure they regretted it.

Some were bought. Some were threatened. And some simply looked away. Because society had always found it easier to ignore a victim than confront a powerful man.

Zaid's fingers tightened around the file. He turned the page.

Another name.

Yug Malhotra.

Another politician. Another man who believed his position made him untouchable.

He had approached a young woman, convinced her that what they had was genuine. At first, it had been nothing more than a night together. But then he kept coming back. He made promises.

Made her believe there was a future. Until she became pregnant. And the moment she needed him most...

He abandoned her.

Worse—

He humiliated her.

When she finally gave birth, he took her child away. And when she refused to stay quiet, he used his influence to have her declared mentally unstable and sent to an institution.

Zaid slowly closed his eyes.

For a moment, he simply stood there. Breathing. Trying to control the rage crawling beneath his skin. Because it wasn't just two men.

There were more. Politicians. Businessmen. Men with respectable names and respectable faces.

Men who donated to charities in the morning and destroyed lives at night. And then Zaid reached another section of the file.

Male victims. His eyes stopped. Boys. Young men. Victims of men who believed that their gender somehow made them immune to being hurt.

It didn't. A boy could be assaulted. A man could be violated. A man could be terrified. And yet society still expected them to stay silent. Because apparently, if a man admitted he had been hurt, people would question his strength before questioning the person who hurt him.

Zaid slowly lowered the file. His eyes were burning. He looked towards one of his men.

"Un logon ne jinhein chhua tha..."

(''Whoever they have touched.'')

His voice was dangerously quiet. "Unke khilaaf jo kuch bhi kiya gaya hai, woh sirf saza nahi honi chahiye."

(''Whatever they have done to the innocent ones, that shouldn't just be a punishment.'')

The man nodded silently.

Zaid looked back at the files. ''It should be a life time lesson.'')

For years, he had believed in laws. He still did. He believed criminals should be punished through the system. He believed justice should have rules. But standing there, surrounded by evidence of people who had used the very system meant to protect others...

He finally understood something.

Some men didn't fear prison. They didn't fear courts. They didn't fear God. They feared consequences. And tonight, Zaid intended to make sure they finally understood what consequences meant.

He picked up the first file again. His eyes landed on Nischit's photograph. The respectable politician. The philanthropist. The man everyone trusted. Zaid stared at him for a long moment.

Then he spoke quietly. "Tum logon ne samjha tha paisa tumhe bacha lega." He placed the file down. "Power tumhe bacha legi." A pause. "Naam tumhe bacha lega."

(''You thought money could save you. Power could save you. That name would save you.'')

His expression hardened. "Lekin tum ek cheez bhool gaye." Zaid turned towards the men standing behind him. "Har zulm ka ek hisaab hota hai."

(''But you forgot one thing. There is a prize for every sin.'')

The warehouse fell silent.

Outside, thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Zaid walked towards the exit, his face unreadable. He had come here looking for answers. He had found something far worse.

He had come to look for evidence that who kidnapped Ava but this is what he had found.

A system full of men who had mistaken silence for permission. And as the warehouse doors closed behind him, one thing became painfully clear—

Zaid Zoravar wasn't going to let them hide behind their power anymore.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

Upstairs, in the bedroom, Anika was helping Ava get ready for the pooja. Ava stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a beautiful red saree adorned with intricate golden embroidery. The pallu rested gracefully over her shoulder, the gold threads shimmering every time she moved.

Her wrists were covered with stacks of red chooda and golden bangles. Despite the pain in her wrists, she had insisted on wearing them. The sindoor in her hairline, the mangalsutra resting against her collarbone, and the little red bindi on her forehead completed her look.

Anika had done her makeup carefully, making sure not to hurt Ava's already bruised face. She had concealed her wounds as best as she could, blending everything with a gentleness that Ava hadn't expected from someone who had spent years pretending to be someone else.

Once she was done, Anika picked up a comb and began brushing Ava's hair, letting the long strands fall freely down her waist. "There," Anika murmured, stepping back to admire her work. "Mrs. Zoravar, all ready."

Ava looked at herself in the mirror. For a moment, she didn't recognise the woman staring back at her.

The red saree.

The sindoor.

The mangalsutra.

The bangles of a married woman.

And for a moment she remembered her own mother. Something tightened in her chest. No....Ava stop now is not the time.

Everything about her appearance belonged to the role she had been playing. And yet, somewhere along the way, the role had become much more complicated than she had anticipated.

Before she could dwell on it, the bedroom door opened. Inaya and Chandani walked inside. Both girls were dressed for the pooja. Inaya wore a red sharara, while Chandani had chosen a pink one. Their outfits were paired with heavy jhumkas, gold bangles, and a hint of lip gloss.

But neither of them looked particularly happy. They stood near the doorway, exchanging hesitant glances.

Ava turned towards them. "Inaya? Chandani?" she asked softly. "Kya hua? Andar aaiye na. Darwaaze par hi kyun khadi hain aap dono?"

(''What happened? Why are you both standing towards the door?'')

Neither answered. Instead, the girls suddenly rushed towards her and wrapped their arms around her.

Ava froze. For one brief second, her instincts took over. She hadn't expected the sudden movement, and her injured body tensed before she could stop herself. Then she felt Chandani's arms tighten around her. And Inaya's face bury itself against her shoulder.

Slowly, Ava hugged them back.

Tightly.

"Arre..." she whispered, gently stroking their backs. "Aap dono ro kyun rahi hain? Kya hua hai?"

(''What happened? Why are you both cryinh?'')

Her voice was soft, almost instinctively comforting.

 Anika watched them for a moment before quietly slipping out of the room, giving the girls some privacy. Or perhaps she simply needed a moment to get ready herself. Either way, she left the three of them alone.

"Bhabhi..." Chandani whispered, her voice breaking. "Aap theek toh hain na?"

(''You are okay right?'')

Inaya pulled back just enough to look at Ava's face, her eyes glistening. "Kitna darr gaye the hum, Bhabhi. Aapko kuch ho jaata toh?"

('' I was so scared. If something happened to you?'')

Her voice trembled. "Aapko pata bhi hai humne kitni duaayein maangi hain?"

(''You know how many times I prayed to Allah?'')

Chandani nodded frantically, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Aapko aise dekhkar... humein bilkul achha nahi lag raha."

''You should be resting and I know this festival means a lot to you but Bhabhi I don't think your Mahadev would like you doing all this instead of resting.''

('' I don't like seeing you like this.'')

Ava stared at them. She didn't know what to say. She had expected concern from Mahira and Shahveer. They had been nothing but genuine with her.

But these two girls?

She barely knew them. She didn't know whether their affection came from the woman they believed her to be or whether they would have cared just as much if they had known the truth.

She didn't know if any of this was real. And yet, as Chandani wiped her tears and Inaya held her hand as though letting go would somehow make her disappear, something inside Ava's chest tightened.

She wasn't used to this. She wasn't used to being surrounded by a family. She wasn't used to people worrying about her simply because they didn't want anything bad to happen to her.

On missions, people were assets. Liabilities. Contacts. Targets. You learned to keep your distance because attachment was a weakness someone could use against you.

But here?

Here, Mahira called her meri bachi.

Shahveer looked at her with the concern of a father. And now these two girls were crying over her injuries.

Ava swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She knew their stories, at least the parts they had allowed others to see. Inaya had been betrayed by someone she had trusted, hurt by the very people who should never have been allowed near her. Chandani had lost her parents far too young and had grown up without the security every child deserved.

Both of them had suffered in ways no young girl should have had to. And despite everything, they were still here. Still capable of loving people. Still capable of worrying about someone else. Ava tightened her arms around them. A thought quietly settled in the back of her mind.

Before I leave, I need to make sure these girls have a good life.

A proper one. One where Inaya never had to be afraid of trusting the wrong person again. One where Chandani never had to wonder whether she would have been happier if her parents were still alive.

She didn't know how she would do it. She didn't know how much time she had left. But she would figure something out. She always did. And then, uninvited, another face appeared in her mind.

Tristan.

Her little brother. The one person she had spent her entire life trying to protect. She wanted him to have a good life too. A life where he could laugh without looking over his shoulder. A life where he could chase his dreams without being dragged into the darkness that had swallowed her own.

 he wanted that for him even if she had never managed to give herself the same thing. And she would rather die than let anyone hurt him. Her arms tightened around the two girls.

"Bas, bas..." Ava whispered, trying to smile despite the ache in her chest. "Please, don't cry. Aap dono aise royengi toh humein achha lagega kya?"

(''If you both cry will I like it?'')

She pulled back slightly, wiping Chandani's tears with her thumb before doing the same for Inaya.

"Dekhiye, hum bilkul theek hain. Thoda dard hai, but we'll be fine. I promise. And about celebrating Mahashivratri trust me this brings me peace"

(''I am perfectly fine. There is little pain, but we'll be fine.'')

Inaya sniffled.

"Promise, Bhabhi?"

Ava nodded.

"Promise."

Chandani immediately hugged her again. And Ava closed her eyes. Maybe it was all an act. Maybe she was simply playing the part of a loving sister-in-law because that was what the mission required.

But for those few seconds, she allowed herself to sink into their warmth.

Because even if it was borrowed...

It was warmth all the same. And God, she had missed knowing what that felt like.

"Bhabhi..." Chandani whispered against her shoulder.

"Hm?"

"Aap itni achhi hain na..." Her voice broke again. "And Zaid Bhai... woh toh—"

(''You are so kind and......Zaid bhai...he-''

"Chandani!"

Inaya immediately pulled away and clamped a hand over her cousin's mouth. Chandani's eyes widened.

Ava blinked. The sudden interruption caught her attention. She looked from one sister to the other. "What?"

Both girls went quiet. Inaya forced a small smile. "Kuch nahi, Bhabhi. Aapko toh pata hi hai, yeh Chandani kuch bhi bolti rehti hai."

(''Nothing, Bhabhi. You know that this Chandani keeps saying anything that comes to her mind.'')

She grabbed Chandani's wrist. "Chaliye. Bhabhi ko rest karne dete hain. Waise bhi pooja ki taiyaari karni hai."

(''Come on. You need to rest. And we have to prepare for Pooja.'')

But Ava didn't miss the way Chandani's smile faltered. Nor the way Inaya refused to meet her eyes. Something was wrong.

"Aap dono rukiye."

(''Wait.'')

The girls stopped. Ava's expression had changed. Her voice remained gentle, but there was something unmistakably firm beneath it.

God, did they know something? Was her mission about to be removed?

"Aap dono humse kya chhupa rahi hain?"

(''You both are hiding something from me?'')

Inaya hesitated.

"Bhabhi, aisi koi baat nahi hai—"

(''No there is nothing like that'-''

"Please." Ava looked at them. "Hum aap dono ko apna maante hain. Agar koi baat hai, toh humein bata sakti hain."

(''I consider you both my family. If there is something you can tell me.'')

The words slipped out before she could think about them.

Apna maante hain.

For a second, Ava herself went still. Because she hadn't meant to say that. Not like that. Not with such certainty. It was just acting.  Yeah that is what it was. She was just making them believe that she was family she told herself that.

Chandani looked at Inaya. Inaya looked back at her. And whatever silent conversation passed between them was enough. Chandani's face crumpled. "Bhabhi, Zaid Bhai subah se ghar nahi aaye hain."

(''Zaid brother didn't come home since morning.'')

Ava frowned. "Kya matlab ghar nahi aaye hain?"

(''What do you mean by that?'')

Inaya closed her eyes briefly. Then she told her everything. How Zaid had left the hospital. How he had pulled the IV out of his arm and disappeared without telling anyone where he was going.

How Samar and Shahmir had been searching for him for hours. How nobody could reach him. And how Shahveer had been desperately trying to get in touch with his son. Then came the part that made Ava's blood run cold.

"He went after those politicians," Inaya whispered. Samar bhai aur Shahmir bhai ko lagta hai Zaid Bhai unhi ke paas gaye hain but pataani kaha."

('' Samar and Shahmir brother thinks Zaid brother went after them but nobofy knows where.'')

Chandani nodded, tears gathering in her eyes again. "Bhabhi, unhone kabhi aisa nahi kiya. Zaid Bhai toh hamesha kehte hain ki insaaf kanoon ke through hona chahiye. Woh violence mein believe hi nahi karte."

(''He was never like this. He always believed that law should provide justice. He never believed in violence.'')

She swallowed hard. "Lekin is baar... is baar unhone kisi ki baat nahi suni."

(''But this time he didn't listen to anyone.'')

Ava couldn't move. For a moment, the room seemed to tilt around her. Zaid. Her husband.

The man who prayed to Allah before beginning his day. The man who spoke about justice as though it were a responsibility he had been born to carry. The man who had looked at her with such gentleness that she had sometimes forgotten he was a politician surrounded by enemies. That man had gone to a warehouse to deal with those criminals himself. And he had collapsed at the hospital before leaving.

What the actual fuck?

"Zaid ji ne... sach mein aisa kiya?"

(''He actually did that?'')

The question escaped her in a whisper. And this time, there was no acting in it. No calculated expression. No carefully measured shock. She was genuinely shocked.

Both girls nodded. Ava stumbled backwards. "Oh, God..." Her hand flew to her mangalsutra.

"Woh hain kahaan? I need to find him. No, no, no... yeh kya kar rahe hain woh?"

She turned towards the door. Her saree rustled as she hurried out, the bangles on her wrists clinking with every movement. She barely made it into the hallway before she collided with someone.

A pair of strong hands immediately caught her by the shoulders, steadying her before she could fall.

"Ava!" She looked up. Shahveer. Her father-in-law's face was etched with concern. "Bache, sambhaliye khud ko. Aapko chot lagi hai."

(''Sweetheart, handle yourself. You are hurt.'')

Ava barely heard him. "Abba, I—Zaid ji... woh ghar par nahi hain. He isn't—"

(''He didn't come home.'')

Shahveer's expression changed. Just slightly. But Ava caught it. The brief tightening of his jaw. The way his eyes flickered towards the bedroom doorway, where Inaya and Chandani had stopped. He knew. Of course he knew. And judging by the look on his face, he knew far more than he was willing to tell her.

"Bache, shaant ho jaiye," he said, gently guiding her back towards the bedroom. "Zaid se meri baat hui hai."

(''Sweetheart, calm youtself.....I talked to Zaid.'')

Ava stared at him. "Sach mein?"

(''Really?'')

Shahveer held her gaze. "Haan, bache. Maine usse baat ki hai. Woh aa raha hai. Very soon."

(''Yes, child. I talked to him. He is coming very soon.'')

It was a lie. A father's desperate lie, offered to a frightened girl who was already carrying more pain than she should have had to bear.

Ava wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. More than the act she was scared he would do something that would ruin the mission.

"Promise?" she whispered.

Something flickered across Shahveer's face. For a moment, he looked less like a respected politician and more like a father who had no idea how to bring his son home.

He gently squeezed her shoulders. "Promise, bache. Aap fikr mat kijiye." He helped her sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt her.

Then he turned towards the doorway. His eyes landed on Inaya and Chandani. The concern on his face hardened into a silent glare. Both girls immediately lowered their eyes. They had told Ava the truth. And now there was no taking it back. Shahveer looked at them for another moment before returning his attention to Ava.

"Main neeche hoon, bache. Aapko kuch bhi chahiye toh mujhe bula lijiye."

(''I will be downstairs. If you neeed something just call me.'')

Ava nodded faintly. But the moment he left, her eyes returned to the bedroom door.

Waiting. Listening. Praying.

She had spent years tracking dangerous men across cities, walking into situations that could have cost her life, and facing threats without allowing herself to hesitate. Yet right now, sitting in a red saree with her husband's mangalsutra resting against her collarbone, she couldn't do a single thing.

She couldn't find him. Couldn't call him. Couldn't even tell him to stop being an idiot and come home. All she could do was wait.

And for the first time in a very long time, Ava Hart found herself praying for someone else's safety.

Please, Zaid ji.

Please come home.

Your wife needs you.

And God help me...

I think I need you too.

It was a act she told herself. Yes...that is what it was.

But the words he said in the car the other day.....

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

Later, Ava was still upstairs in the bedroom, lost in her thoughts, when Mahira called out from outside. "Bache, pooja ka waqt ho gaya hai!"

(''Darling, its time for Pooja.'')

"Ammi, ham aa rahe hain!" Ava called back. But just as she was about to leave, she heard a sharp little snap. Her blouse hook had come undone. Ava froze. Slowly, she turned towards the mirror, trying to reach behind her back to fix it herself. And just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, the lights went out.

(''Mother, I am coming!.'')

She stared at her reflection in the darkness. Of course. Of course this had to happen now.

"Ammi? Inaya? Hamein thodi help chahiye!"

No answer. Perhaps her voice hadn't reached them. She sighed and stood in front of the mirror, trying once again to fix the hook herself.

Just then, the bedroom door opened. Assuming it was Mahira, Anika, or one of the girls, Ava didn't bother turning around. "Uh... zara hamari blouse ka hook band karne mein help kar dijiye."

(''Uh could you close my blouse please.'')

Silence. Ava frowned slightly. Why wasn't anyone answering? Because the person standing at the doorway wasn't Mahira.

Or Anika. Or either of the girls. It was her husband.

Zaid Zoravar.

He stood frozen at the entrance, staring at the woman who had been lying pale and motionless in a hospital bed that very morning.

And now, here she was. Standing in front of the mirror, asking someone to help her with her blouse.

His hands clenched at his sides as memories of the blood he'd shed before coming home flashed through his mind.

Ya Allah.

He had returned home carrying the weight of everything he'd done, every decision he'd made, every moment he'd spent away from her. And she didn't even know he was standing behind her.

"I don't know where everyone is, Ava..." he whispered, forcing his voice to sound as normal as possible. "Aapko help chahiye?"

(''Do you need help?'')

As though this were an ordinary evening. As though he hadn't disappeared since she'd woken up. As though he hadn't left the entire household terrified, searching for him. As though he hadn't spent the last few hours drowning in guilt over what had happened to his wife.

"Zaid ji... aap?"

(''Zaid?'')

Ava turned her head slightly, trying to make out his face in the darkness. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Zaid asked the only question he could bring himself to ask.

"Kaisi hain aap?"

(''How are you?'')

That was it. Because if he asked her anything else, if he allowed himself to think about what she'd endured, he feared he would break apart right there. So he changed the subject before his voice could betray him.

"Ham behtar hain, par aap—"

(''I am better, but you-''

"Aapko help chahiye?" he interrupted gently.

(''Do you need help?'')

His gaze remained fixed on her face, refusing to wander towards her exposed back, barely visible in the darkness.

He wouldn't look. He couldn't. Not when she had already suffered so much. Not when he was the one who had failed to protect her. And after everything that had happened, what right did he have to ask anything of her?

What had she done wrong?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Yet she had paid the price. And Zaid knew that no matter how much time passed, he would never be able to forgive himself for it.

Meanwhile, Ava was having an entirely different kind of crisis. Her cheeks had warmed. Actually warmed.

And for once, it wasn't an act.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Get a grip, Agent NYX. What is wrong with you?

The thought of Zaid standing behind her, the possibility of him touching her—

What the actual fuck?

Shut up, Ava. Just shut up!

"Ji... woh, ham bas... hamein help chahiye thi. Ham Ammi ko—"

(''Actually....I uh I need help. I was calling Ammi-'')

 Once again, he interrupted her. "Yahan koi nahi hai, Ava. Aap chahein toh... ham kar sakte hain."

(''Nobody is here, Ava. If you need help I can help you.'')

His expression remained unreadable.

Ava blinked. Once. Twice.

"Ji?"

(''What?'')

She stared at his silhouette in the darkness, momentarily forgetting how to form a coherent thought.

Ham kar sakte hain.

He can help.

He is offering to help.

OH, FOR THE LOVE OF—

Agent NYX did not blush because a man offered to fasten her blouse. Agent NYX had been trained to manipulate men, deceive them, and make them believe whatever she wanted them to believe. She certainly did not stand there, forgetting how to breathe because her own husband was being considerate.

So why on earth was she behaving like this?

Get it together, Ava.

When she didn't respond, Zaid assumed she'd changed her mind. Of course she had. What had he expected? After everything she'd been through, why would she want him anywhere near her?

"It's alright. Ham dekhte hain agar koi aur—"

(''It's alright. Let me go see-'')

He turned towards the door.

And then—

He froze. His breath caught in his throat.

Ya Allah. Ava had caught his sleeve. Her fingers curled around the fabric just before he could take another step.

Zaid looked down at her hand, unable to believe what was happening. For one ridiculous, impossible moment, his heart forgot every reason it had to hurt.

Ava, meanwhile, was already busy convincing herself that she knew exactly what she was doing.

This is for the mission.

Obviously. I need to build trust. Create a bond. Make him comfortable around me. That's all this is. Absolutely nothing else.

She lifted her gaze towards him. 

"Ji?" Zaid looked at her, trying desperately to ignore the warmth creeping into his cheeks.

"Voh... hamein pata nahi baaki sab kahaan hain," she whispered, lowering her gaze. "Toh aap hi blouse ka hook laga dijiye."

Silence.

Complete, utter silence.

Zaid stared at her. Ya Allah. Had she really just asked him that? His heart was beating so violently that he was almost certain she could hear it.

"Ji?" he asked again, just to make sure he hadn't imagined the entire thing. "Aap... hamse keh rahi hain?"

(''You are asking me?'')

Ava nodded. "Ji haan."

(''Yes.'')

Then she turned towards the mirror and gathered her hair over one shoulder, exposing the back of her blouse so he could reach the hook.

Zaid nearly forgot how to breathe. His wife had asked him to help her. His wife. The woman who had every reason to resent him, who had suffered because he hadn't been there to protect her, was standing in front of him and trusting him with something so simple.

And somehow, that small gesture hurt more than any accusation could have.

He stepped closer, slowly, as though one wrong move might shatter the moment. His hands hovered behind her back. But he kept his eyes firmly shut. She had asked him to fasten her blouse. Not to look at her.

He wouldn't take even an inch more than she'd offered. "Ava..." he whispered. "Are you sure?"

She glanced at him through the mirror. 

''Agar aap chahein toh ham kisi aur ko bula sakte hain." He swallowed. "Ham bas yeh keh rahe hain ki agar aap comfortable nahi hain, toh—"

(''If you want i can call someone else....If you are not comfortable...'')

"Aap apni biwi ki hi madad nahi karna chahte?" Her voice carried the faintest hint of mischief.

(''You don't want to help your own wife?'')

Zaid froze. His eyes flew open before he hurriedly shut them again. And then, despite everything she'd endured, despite the fear and the pain and the guilt that had followed them both home, she gave him a teasing little smile through the mirror.

Something inside him cracked. His eyes burned. Because she was smiling. She was standing here, teasing him, looking at him as though he were still someone she could speak to without fear. And he had seen her lying pale and unconscious, wondering if he would ever get to hear her voice again.

"Nahi, aisa nahi hai. Ham bas—"

(''No, no its nothing like that. I was just-'')

"Haan, haan. Ham sab samajh rahe hain." She cut him off softly, the mischief in her eyes making the dark room feel a little less suffocating.

Zaid fell silent. He could argue with politicians. He could stare down men who thought themselves untouchable. He could walk into a warehouse full of criminals and refuse to flinch.

But one teasing sentence from his wife?

Apparently, that was enough to turn him into a nervous mess. He slowly raised his hands again, his fingers hovering near the tiny hooks.

हो आजा तेरा दर्श दिखा दे माही

Then he paused. "May I?"

The question was barely more than a whisper.

Ava's expression softened. She nodded. And only when she had given him permission did Zaid begin fastening the hooks, carefully and slowly, his eyes still closed.

मुझे मेरा अक्स दिखा दे माही

His fingers fumbled once. Then again.

He had never imagined that something so ordinary could make his heart feel as though it might burst out of his chest. He concentrated on the tiny hooks, determined not to hurt her, not to pull the fabric too hard, not to make her uncomfortable in the slightest.

तुझसे जुडी हे सब कहानियां

Then his fingers brushed her bare back. He froze. Shit.......I didn't mean it...Ya Allah please forgive me.

Even Ava froze for a moment.

And finally—

हो आजा तेरा दर्श दिखा दे माही

"Ji... ho gaya." he murmured fastly looking in her eyes hoping she wasn't uncomfortable and when she seemed comfortable he sighed in relief.

मुझे मेरा अक्स दिखा दे माही

He lowered his hands immediately and stepped back, giving her space. For a moment, neither of them moved.

तुझसे जुडी हे सब कहानियां

Then Zaid opened his eyes. Ava was looking at him through the mirror. And she was smiling. Not the smile she wore for the sake of the mission. Not the carefully practised expression of Agent NYX, who could make people believe anything she wanted. Just a small, genuine smile. And she herself didn't knew that it was real.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Zaid forgot every thought that had been running through his mind. He simply looked at her. And for the first time since he'd found her injured, since he'd watched the life nearly slip out of her, he felt something inside his chest loosen.

नैनो ने बाँधी कैसी डोर रे
नैनो ने बाँधी कैसी डोर रे
हो मुंसिफ ही मेरा मेरा चोर रे
दिल पे चले ना कोई जोर रे

She wasn't looking at him with hatred. She wasn't asking him why he'd failed her. She wasn't demanding explanations he didn't yet know how to give. She was simply smiling at him. And for that one little moment, it felt as though the world had finally stopped punishing them both.

Zaid lowered his gaze, his lips moving in a silent prayer.

Ya Allah... inhein hamesha aise hi khush rakhna.

Inki muskurahat kabhi inse mat cheenna.

He would move mountains to protect that smile. He would stand against the entire world if he had to. But he prayed, with a desperation he couldn't put into words, that she would never have to suffer like that again. 

Ava turned back towards the mirror, adjusting her saree.

Zaid remained a few steps behind her, his hands clasped together, trying to steady the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Neither of them spoke about the hospital. Neither of them mentioned his disappearance. Neither of them asked the questions that sat heavily between them. For once, there was no mission to discuss, no lies to unravel, no painful truth to confront.

There was only a husband who had returned home carrying the weight of his guilt... And a wife who had unknowingly given him a moment of peace.

A moment he hadn't dared to dream of. A moment he would remember long after the lights came back on. Because sometimes, even when everything was falling apart, a single smile could make a person believe that perhaps...

Perhaps not everything was lost.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓙𝓔𝓒𝓣 𝓩𝓞𝓡𝓐𝓥𝓐𝓡

𝓢𝓘𝓣𝓐𝓡𝓐 𝓘𝓝𝓚𝓛𝓘𝓝𝓖