Aayat's POV

The guard unlocked the door.

The metallic sound echoed through the corridor.

I couldn't move.

My feet refused.

I looked at the open doorway...

then instinctively searched for Mihir.

"...Come with me."

It came out quieter than I'd intended.

He met my eyes.

There was no hesitation.

Only warmth.

Then he gave a small shake of his head.

"No."

I frowned.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice.

"He has spent twenty-one years waiting for you."

His gaze shifted briefly toward the cell.

"I won't take even a second of that away from him."

I looked down.

My fingers tightened around the file against my chest.

"I'll be outside."

"I promise."

He smiled reassuringly.

"The moment you walk back out..."

"...I'll be the first person you see."

Something inside me settled.

Not completely.

Just enough.

I took a slow breath.

He moved aside, leaving the doorway clear.

No dramatic goodbye.

No long speech.

Just one final nod.

"Go to your father."

I looked at him for another second.

Then turned toward the cell.

Each step felt impossibly heavy.

Yet somehow...

knowing Mihir was waiting just outside...

made them possible.

I walked in alone.

The door closed quietly behind me.

For a moment...

I couldn't hear anything except my own heartbeat.

The room felt smaller than I remembered.

Colder.

The faint smell of old paper and iron lingered in the air.

He was standing near the window.

His back was turned.

The morning light outlined his thin frame.

Older.

Frail.

But unmistakably...

him.

My throat tightened.

"...Papa."

The word escaped before I could stop it.

He stiffened.

Slowly...

he turned around.

Our eyes met.

For one impossible second...

I saw it.

Recognition.

It flashed across his face before disappearing just as quickly.

His expression became unreadable.

Calm.

Carefully controlled.

He lowered his gaze.

"You've come to the wrong cell."

His voice was steady.

"I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

The words hit harder than I expected.

I took another step.

"No."

"I haven't."

He shook his head.

"My name is Prisoner Number 704."

"I don't know who you're looking for."

I stared at him.

The man who had cried when he saw me before.

The man who had begged me to leave.

Now he wouldn't even look at me.

"I know who you are."

He folded his hands behind his back.

"No."

"You know what you've been told."

"I am not your father."

Silence stretched between us.

My chest ached.

"Why are you saying this?"

He finally looked at me.

His eyes were tired.

"Because it's the truth."

"No."

I whispered.

"It isn't."

"It has to be."

His jaw tightened ever so slightly.

"You have a life."

"A family."

"You shouldn't be here."

"I chose to come."

"You shouldn't have."

"I wanted to see you."

"There is nothing to see."

His words were cold.

Too cold.

Deliberately cold.

He was pushing me away.

Again.

I searched his face.

"You recognized me."

A flicker crossed his eyes.

Gone in an instant.

"I didn't."

"You did."

"No."

"You looked at me like..."

"I looked at a visitor."

His interruption was firm.

Nothing like the gentle man I'd met before.

I took another slow step until only a few feet separated us.

"If I'm mistaken..."

I said quietly,

"...then look at me."

He did.

I held his gaze.

"Tell me..."

"...that you've never called me Aayu."

His breathing faltered.

Barely.

But I saw it.

"Tell me..."

"...that you never taught me to clap offbeat because you said music didn't belong inside rules."

His fingers curled ever so slightly.

"Tell me..."

"...that I didn't fall asleep on your shoulder every time it rained."

His eyes closed.

Just for a moment.

When they opened again...

they were guarded once more.

"You have memories."

He said softly.

"But they don't belong to me."

My voice broke.

"Why are you lying?"

He looked away.

"Because sometimes..."

he said after a long silence,

"...a lie protects people better than the truth."

I felt the words settle heavily between us.

This wasn't denial.

It was sacrifice.

The same sacrifice he'd been making for twenty-one years.

He still believed the safest thing he could do...

was lose his daughter all over again.

His last words hung between us.

"Sometimes... a lie protects people better than the truth."

I looked at him.

Really looked at him.

At the exhaustion carved into his face.

At the hands that had once held mine crossing busy streets.

At the eyes trying so desperately not to remember me.

He wasn't denying me because he didn't know me.

He was denying me...

because he loved me.

I felt something inside me give way.

"No."

My voice was barely a whisper.

"You don't get to do this again."

He frowned.

"Aayat..."

"You don't get to protect me by pretending I'm a stranger."

I took another step.

He instinctively stepped back.

"Don't."

His voice was firmer now.

"You need to leave."

"I won't."

"This place isn't safe."

"I know."

"You shouldn't have come here."

"I know."

"Aayat..."

He finally looked directly into my eyes.

There was fear there.

Not for himself.

For me.

"You have no idea what you've walked into."

"I don't care."

"You should."

"I don't."

"You..."

Before he could finish...

I closed the distance between us.

And wrapped my arms around him.

For a heartbeat...

he froze.

Completely.

His hands remained at his sides.

As though he didn't know whether he was allowed to touch me.

As though twenty-one years had taught him that everything he loved would be taken away.

I held him tighter.

"I found you."

The words came out broken.

"I finally found you."

He didn't move.

I felt his breathing become uneven.

"Aayat..."

His voice cracked around my name.

The first crack.

"I thought..."

I buried my face against his shoulder.

"I thought you were gone."

Silence.

Then...

very slowly...

I felt his hands rise.

Hesitant.

Almost afraid.

One rested lightly against my back.

The other trembled as it came to my shoulder.

Like he was afraid I would disappear if he held me too tightly.

The moment he embraced me...

the last of his strength broke.

A shudder ran through him.

He lowered his forehead onto my hair.

And I heard it.

The quiet, restrained sob of a man who had spent twenty-one years teaching himself not to cry.

"Aayat..."

His voice was barely audible.

"You shouldn't have come here."

Another breath.

Another broken whisper.

"You shouldn't have seen me like this."

His arms tightened around me for the first time.

"I wanted you to remember me as your father..."

"...not as Prisoner Number 704."

Tears spilled freely down my face.

"You are my father."

I whispered.

"You always will be."

He shook his head against my hair.

"I'm sorry."

"So... so sorry."

"For every birthday I missed."

"For every time you needed me."

"For every night you cried because I wasn't there."

His shoulders shook.

"I heard you call me a murderer..."

he whispered painfully.

"And I still couldn't tell you the truth."

I pulled back just enough to look at him.

"You heard me?"

He nodded once.

"Every word."

His eyes filled again.

"And all I could think was..."

"...at least you were alive."

He gave a broken smile through his tears.

"If hating me was the price of keeping you safe..."

"...I thanked God every day that you hated me."

A sob escaped me.

"I never hated you."

"I hated the lie."

He closed his eyes.

For the first time in twenty-one years...

Devang Kapoor stopped trying to be Prisoner Number 704.

For a long time...

neither of us spoke.

The silence wasn't empty anymore.

It was filled with twenty-one years that words could never fully bridge.

Papa's arms remained around me.

As though if he let go too soon...

he might lose me all over again.

Finally, he drew a slow, unsteady breath.

"I thought..."

His voice was rough from crying.

"...I thought Shruti would protect you."

I looked up.

He gave a tired smile.

"After all..."

"...she's your mother."

A shadow crossed his face.

"I believed you'd grow up surrounded by love."

"I thought she'd tell you stories about me."

"The good ones."

He laughed bitterly at himself.

"I even imagined she'd complain about how stubborn I was."

His eyes glistened.

"I told myself..."

"...if you had her..."

"...you'd never really be alone."

He looked at me carefully.

"But when I saw you..."

"...I realized life hadn't been kind to you either."

His hand came up to cup my cheek.

"You've learned to hide your tears."

"No child learns that unless they've had to."

Fresh tears slipped down my face.

"I wasn't alone."

I whispered.

"But I wasn't with you."

His eyes closed for a brief moment.

"I'm sorry."

"So very sorry."

I held his wrist gently.

"Papa..."

He opened his eyes.

"I need you to tell me."

His expression changed.

The softness gave way to quiet caution.

"What happened?"

I asked.

"How did you end up here?"

My voice trembled.

"The evidence..."

"The reports..."

"They've all started falling apart."

I searched his face.

"Who did this to you?"

A pause.

"Why did you let everyone believe you were guilty?"

His jaw tightened.

"And..."

I swallowed hard.

"...who were you protecting?"

His eyes immediately darkened.

He looked toward the small barred window instead of at me.

"Aayat..."

"No."

I stepped closer.

"No more protecting me with silence."

"I've lived twenty-one years believing you abandoned us."

"I deserve the truth."

He remained silent.

"I know about the money."

His eyes flickered.

"I know about the altered investigation."

"I know Tej collected the vehicle after it was repaired."

His head turned sharply toward me.

"I know the officer admitted the reports were changed."

For the first time...

I saw genuine surprise on his face.

"You..."

"...know all that?"

I nodded.

"We found the evidence."

"And we're reopening your case."

He stared at me for several long seconds.

Then...

his shoulders slowly slumped.

As if the weight he'd carried for decades had suddenly become too heavy to hold.

"You've come farther than I ever hoped you would."

He whispered.

"But you've also walked into something far bigger than you understand."

I took his hand.

"Then help me understand."

He looked down at our joined hands.

Then back into my eyes.

"I wasn't protecting myself."

His voice was quiet.

"I never cared what happened to me."

A chill ran through me.

"I was protecting..."

He stopped.

His throat worked as though the words themselves hurt.

"...you."

My breath caught.

"Me?"

He nodded once.

"They didn't want me."

"They wanted leverage."

His fingers tightened around mine.

"And the easiest way to break me..."

He looked away, unable to finish.

"...was you."

Silence settled over the room.

Cold.

Heavy.

Every instinct told me there was still more.

Much more.

And for the first time...

I realized that my father's prison sentence...

had never been the whole story.

I didn't say a word.

I simply held his hand.

For the first time...

he didn't pull away.

He looked at our joined hands for a long moment before speaking.

"When I had a concert planned in Russia..."

His voice was distant.

Like he was watching the memories instead of recalling them.

"...your mother, Tej, my team... we all travelled together."

He paused.

"You, Shruti, Arush and I were in the same car."

The name caught in my chest.

"...Arush."

Papa closed his eyes.

"He was laughing."

"A few minutes before..."

A shaky breath escaped him.

"He kept playing."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"You were six."

"You kept insisting you were old enough to sit by the window."

His smile vanished.

"Then..."

"The accident happened."

Silence.

"I lost Arush."

His voice broke completely.

"I couldn't save him."

"I couldn't..."

He covered his eyes with one trembling hand.

"I still hear him sometimes."

I squeezed his hand tighter.

He took a long breath before continuing.

"When I woke up in the hospital..."

"I thought I had survived."

"I thought the worst was over."

A bitter laugh escaped him.

"I was wrong."

"The police walked into my room."

"They had a warrant."

I frowned.

"A warrant?"

He nodded.

"They arrested me."

His eyes met mine.

"They said the accident wasn't an accident."

"They accused me of planning it."

My heart sank.

"They claimed..."

"...I had murdered Arush."

His voice cracked.

"And that I had planned to kill..."

"...Shruti."

"...you."

He couldn't even look at me as he said it.

"I couldn't understand."

"I had just lost my son."

"I was still covered in blood."

"And they were calling me a murderer."

He laughed hollowly.

"I thought there had been some mistake."

"I kept telling them..."

"'There has to be a misunderstanding.'"

"'Check again.'"

"'I would never hurt my children.'"

"No one listened."

I felt tears sting my eyes.

"They took me away."

"I kept believing..."

"...that Shruti would come."

He smiled sadly.

"Every morning I woke up thinking..."

"'Today she'll come.'"

"'Today she'll tell them they're wrong.'"

"'Today this nightmare will end.'"

His gaze fell to the floor.

"But she never came."

Silence.

"Instead..."

"...Tej came."

I stiffened.

"When I saw him..."

"I felt hope."

"I thought..."

"'He's family.'"

"'He'll help me.'"

Papa's expression hardened.

"I was wrong."

"He was the one who had done all of it."

My breathing stopped.

"He sat exactly where you're sitting now."

"He looked me in the eye..."

"...and smiled."

A shiver ran down my spine.

"He told me everything."

"He said the accident had only been the beginning."

"He said if I wanted you and Shruti to stay alive..."

"...I had only one choice."

Papa's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I had to stay in prison."

"Forever."

My lips parted.

"He demanded that I confess."

"That I never appeal."

"That I let the world believe I was a murderer."

His eyes glistened.

"And he wanted more."

"He wanted Devang Kapoor to disappear."

"My music."

"My records."

"My concerts."

"My awards."

"My name."

"He wanted every trace of me erased."

I felt my stomach twist.

"He said..."

"'The day you try to tell the truth...'"

"'...Aayat and Shruti will die.'"

His voice became almost inaudible.

"'Just like Arush.'"

The room spun around me.

"I couldn't lose you."

"I had already buried one child."

"I couldn't bury another."

"So..."

"I agreed."

He lowered his head in shame.

"I signed everything."

"I confessed to crimes I never committed."

"I let them destroy my life's work."

"I let the world hate me."

"Because I believed..."

"...it would keep you alive."

Tears streamed down my face.

He noticed them and immediately reached up to wipe them away.

"No..."

he whispered.

"Don't cry, Aayu."

"I've seen enough tears for one lifetime."

I couldn't stop.

"What about Mrs. Kapoor?"

I asked through my tears.

"You thought she abandoned you?"

He nodded slowly.

"At first..."

"I thought Tej had threatened her too."

"I kept telling myself..."

"'She can't come because she's protecting the children.'"

"I believed that."

"I needed to."

His expression became painfully empty.

"Then..."

"About a year later..."

"They came here."

My heart tightened.

"Both of them."

I already knew the answer.

But hearing him say it...

was different.

"Shruti..."

"...and Tej."

He swallowed.

"They stood exactly where you're standing now."

"I looked at them..."

"...and saw that they were married."

I felt my breath catch.

"I refused to believe it."

"I thought..."

"'He forced her.'"

"'She's pretending.'"

"'She's trying to save Aayat.'"

A tear rolled down his cheek.

"But then she spoke."

His voice was hollow.

"The words..."

"They sounded real."

"There was no fear."

"No hesitation."

"No secret message."

"Nothing."

"I realized..."

"...she had chosen him."

Silence filled the room.

"I asked about you."

"I begged them."

"'How is my daughter?'"

"'Can I see her?'"

"'Is she alright?'"

Papa smiled sadly.

"They told me..."

"'She's fine.'"

"'She's too young to come here.'"

"'The police and prison will frighten her.'"

"So I believed them."

"I believed..."

"...that you were growing up happily."

"That Tej and Shruti loved you."

"That even if I wasn't there..."

"...you were safe."

He looked at me with heartbreaking tenderness.

"For eighteen years..."

"I thanked God for that."

Then his expression changed.

"Until one day..."

"I overheard two policemen talking."

"They were discussing business news."

"They mentioned..."

"'Aayat Kapoor.'"

I frowned.

"They said..."

"'The businesswoman rebuilt her empire after someone burned it down.'"

His eyes filled with pride.

"I froze."

"They said your name again."

"'Asia's most powerful businesswoman.'"

A smile, genuine this time, spread across his face.

"I can't explain what I felt."

"My little Aayu..."

"...had become someone the world admired."

He laughed softly through his tears.

"I was so proud."

"So unbelievably proud."

"I started asking every officer about you."

"'Please... just tell me how she is.'"

"'Is she healthy?'"

"'Is she happy?'"

"'Has she forgotten me?'"

His smile faded.

"They refused."

"Some beat me for asking."

"Some laughed."

"But every now and then..."

"One of them would tell me something."

"'She's unstoppable.'"

"'She's built an empire.'"

"'She's richer than most governments.'"

"'She terrifies boardrooms.'"

A faint chuckle escaped him.

"One officer even showed me a newspaper."

"There was your photograph."

He smiled warmly.

"You looked so much like your mother..."

"...and yet your eyes..."

"They were mine."

My own tears wouldn't stop.

"And then..."

"They showed me another photograph."

He looked at me knowingly.

"You..."

"...standing beside Mihir Raghuvanshi."

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"They said..."

"'She married the Chief Minister of Maharashtra.'"

"I looked at that picture for hours."

"I couldn't stop smiling."

"I thought..."

"'Good.'"

"'Someone strong is standing beside my daughter.'"

He paused.

"Later..."

"I asked about Shruti."

"The officers only shrugged."

"They said..."

"'It's all over the media.'"

"'Shruti and Aayat have cut ties.'"

"I couldn't understand."

"I kept wondering..."

"What happened to my little family?"

He looked at me with eyes full of grief and love.

"I lost twenty-one years, Aayu."

"I missed watching you grow."

"I wasn't there when you needed your father."

"And if there's one thing I will regret until my last breath..."

His voice cracked again.

"It's that you had to become this strong..."

"...without me beside you."

I looked at him.

At the guilt in his eyes.

At the father who still believed I had grown up safe.

He deserved the truth.

Even if it broke both of us.

I took a slow breath.

"...Papa."

He looked up immediately.

"The officers were wrong."

His brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

I lowered my eyes.

"The company..."

"The one they told you I rebuilt..."

I swallowed.

"...it was burned down."

He nodded slowly.

"They said someone attacked it."

I met his eyes.

"It wasn't someone."

A long silence.

"It was..."

"...Shruti Kapoor."

His face went completely still.

"No..."

The word escaped him.

I nodded once.

"She destroyed everything."

"Everything I had built."

He stared at me.

Unable to speak.

"And then..."

My voice became quieter.

"...she abandoned me."

His breathing stopped.

"...What?"

"I was seven."

He shook his head immediately.

"No."

"She couldn't..."

"I wish she hadn't."

My voice trembled.

"But she did."

"She left."

"She chose her new life."

"And I..."

I looked away.

"...wasn't part of it."

Papa took a step toward me.

"Where did you go?"

"To Dadi."

"My grandmother."

His eyes softened.

"Ma..."

He whispered.

"She took care of me."

"She raised me."

"She became everything."

"My parent."

"My home."

"My family."

A faint smile touched my lips.

"She always told me..."

"'Your father wasn't a bad man.'"

"'One day you'll know the truth.'"

I laughed softly through my tears.

"I didn't believe her."

Papa closed his eyes.

"My mother..."

"...protected you."

I nodded.

"Until I was seventeen."

His eyes opened again.

"What happened?"

I looked down.

"...She died."

The room fell silent.

Papa slowly sat down.

"My mother..."

"My son..."

"My family..."

His voice broke.

I sat beside him.

"And after that?"

"There wasn't anyone."

"I studied."

"I worked."

"I fought."

"I built everything again."

"No one gave me anything."

"I earned every single thing."

His eyes stayed on me.

"I became who I am."

A small, sad smile appeared.

"But this..."

I looked around the prison cell.

"...this is all that's left."

"You."

"And me."

I held his hand.

"No Maa."

"No Arush."

"No Dadi."

My voice cracked.

"But..."

I looked at him.

"...you're here."

"And I'm here."

"So maybe..."

"...maybe we can start again."

Papa broke down.

He pulled me into his arms.

"I'm sorry."

"I wasn't there."

"I wasn't there when you needed me."

I held him tightly.

"You are now."

I closed my eyes.

"And this time..."

"I'm not letting anyone take you away again."

For a few moments...

neither of us moved.

I could feel the weight of all the years between us.

All the birthdays.

All the memories.

All the moments we had both lost.

But for the first time...

we weren't separated by a prison wall.

We weren't separated by lies.

We were simply...

a father and daughter.

Papa slowly pulled back.

His hands remained on my shoulders.

His eyes searched my face.

As if he was trying to memorize every detail.

"You really grew up."

A faint smile touched my lips.

"I had to."

The smile disappeared from his face.

Those two words hurt him more than anything else.

"I should have been there."

I shook my head.

"No."

"Aayu..."

"No, Papa."

I held his gaze.

"You don't get to take the blame for everything."

"But I was your father."

"And you loved me."

He went quiet.

"That's what matters."

His eyes filled again.

"You sound like your grandmother."

I smiled slightly.

"Dadi used to say the same thing."

A soft laugh escaped him.

"She always knew what to say."

"She did."

A comfortable silence settled between us.

Then his expression changed.

"But Aayu..."

I looked at him.

"There is something you need to know."

The seriousness in his voice made me straighten.

"What?"

He looked toward the closed door.

Then back at me.

"Tej won't let this go easily."

I expected the name to hurt.

It did.

But not like before.

Now it only made me angry.

"I know."

"No."

His voice became urgent.

"You don't."

"He spent years planning this."

"He didn't just want my company."

"He wanted my entire existence erased."

I listened carefully.

"He knew exactly how much I valued my family."

"How much I trusted people."

"He used that."

His jaw tightened.

"People like him don't stop because someone finds evidence."

"They fight harder."

I nodded.

"Then let him."

Papa looked surprised.

The old me might have been afraid.

The woman I had become wasn't.

"He took everything from you."

"He destroyed your name."

"He made me lose twenty-one years with you."

I looked directly at him.

"But he made one mistake."

"What?"

"He thought he had already won."

A faint pride appeared in Papa's eyes.

"That sounds like my daughter."

I smiled.

"I learned from you."

He shook his head.

"No."

"You surpassed me."

The words surprised me.

"Papa..."

"I mean it."

He looked at me with complete certainty.

"I was a singer."

"I made people dream through music."

"But you..."

He smiled softly.

"You built something from nothing."

"You survived things no child should have faced."

"And still..."

"You became kind."

My eyes burned.

"I wasn't always."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I know."

A small laugh escaped both of us.

"You were stubborn."

"I still am."

"I noticed."

For the first time...

we laughed together.

It was small.

Fragile.

But real.

Then his expression softened.

"Tell me about him."

I blinked.

"Who?"

He gave me a knowing look.

"The man waiting outside."

Heat rose to my face.

"Mihir?"

He smiled.

"So that is his name."

I looked away.

"Yes."

"And he stood outside?"

I nodded.

"He refused to come inside."

Papa smiled faintly.

"Good man."

I looked back at him.

"He said this moment belonged to us."

Something emotional crossed his face.

"Then he understands."

"Understands what?"

"That a daughter returning to her father..."

He squeezed my hand.

"...is something nobody should interrupt."

My eyes filled again.

"He helped me find you."

Papa looked toward the door.

"Then I owe him more than I can repay."

I smiled softly.

"He would say you don't owe him anything."

"Then he is already like family."

The word made my heart pause.

Family.

A word I thought I had lost forever.

Papa looked at me carefully.

"Aayu."

"Hm?"

"Are you happy?"

The question was so simple.

Yet somehow...

the hardest one to answer.

I looked down at our hands.

"I don't know."

He waited.

"I spent so long surviving..."

"I forgot what happy felt like."

His thumb gently moved over my hand.

"Then maybe..."

he whispered,

"...it's time you learned."

I looked at him.

And for the first time in twenty-one years...

I believed that maybe...

we both could.

"Do you want to meet him?"

For a second...

his expression changed.

Almost nervous.

"Me?"

I smiled.

"Yes."

"He has heard so much about you."

Papa looked down.

"What could he have heard?"

I squeezed his hand.

"That you are my father."

His eyes became emotional.

"But..."

He looked around the cell.

"He is a powerful man."

"He is the Chief Minister."

I nodded.

"And?"

Papa gave a small, sad smile.

"And I am just Prisoner Number 704."

My heart tightened.

"No."

I shook my head.

"You are not that number."

"You are Devang Kapoor."

"The man who raised me for six years."

"The man who loved me enough to lose everything."

Papa looked at me.

"And he sees me that way?"

I smiled.

"He does."

A few seconds passed.

Then Papa nodded slowly.

"Then..."

"I would like to meet him."

I stood up.

"Wait here."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Still giving orders?"

I smiled.

"Always."

A small laugh escaped him.

"There you are."

For the first time...

I saw the father I remembered.

Not the prisoner.

Not the man broken by twenty-one years.

My father.

I walked toward the door.

And when it opened...

I saw Mihir standing there.

The moment his eyes met mine...

his expression softened.

He didn't ask anything.

He just looked at me.

I nodded slightly.

A silent answer.

He is okay.

He is here.

Then I stepped aside.

"Papa..."

Mihir entered slowly.

For the first time...

the two men who had changed my life stood in the same room.

Mihir looked at him.

Not with pity.

Not with sympathy.

With respect.

He walked forward.

"Sir."

My father looked surprised.

"Sir?"

Mihir nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Because before anything else..."

He glanced at me.

"...you are Aayat's father."

Papa stared at him.

Almost unable to process the respect in his voice.

"I..."

Mihir continued,

"I have heard about what you went through."

"But I don't think anyone can truly understand twenty-one years of what you endured."

A pause.

"But I want you to know something."

Papa looked at him.

"Your daughter never stopped fighting."

His eyes moved to me.

"She just didn't know who she was fighting for."

My throat tightened.

Papa looked back at Mihir.

"And you?"

Mihir smiled faintly.

"I helped her find the truth."

"No."

He shook his head.

"She found it herself."

Papa looked between us.

Then quietly said,

"Thank you."

Mihir immediately shook his head.

"Please don't thank me, sir."

A small silence.

"She is my wife."

His voice softened.

"And standing beside her..."

"...is not something I consider a favour."

Papa looked at him for a long moment.

Then his eyes filled.

Because after twenty-one years...

he wasn't just seeing his daughter.

He was seeing the person who had protected her when he couldn't.

And I knew...

in that moment...

my father trusted him.

I stood slightly away from them.

Watching.

Listening.

And for some reason...

my chest felt strangely heavy.

Not with sadness.

Something else.

Something I didn't know how to name.

Mihir was sitting across from my father.

Talking to him.

Like they had known each other for years.

Like this wasn't the first time they had met.

Like my father wasn't a man the world had forgotten.

And then the thought hit me.

He did all this...

despite knowing.

Despite knowing our marriage had an expiry date.

When we had signed those papers...

when we had agreed to that arrangement...

he knew there was a line.

A boundary.

A day when everything would end.

Yet he crossed continents.

He fought for my father.

He stayed awake all night collecting evidence.

He stood beside me when I was falling apart.

Not because he had to.

Because he wanted to.

I looked at him quietly.

Mihir Raghuvanshi.

The man who was supposed to be only my husband on paper...

had become the person who made sure I didn't lose my father twice.

My thoughts were interrupted by Papa's voice.

"So..."

He looked at Mihir curiously.

"You handle her?"

I immediately looked up.

"Papa."

Mihir smiled.

"I try."

Papa laughed softly.

"She was stubborn as a child too?"

I folded my arms.

"I am sitting right here."

Mihir glanced at me.

"Sir, you have no idea."

My eyes widened.

"Mihir."

He ignored me.

"Never ask her to cook."

Papa raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

Mihir looked completely serious.

"Because you will end up witnessing the worst possible disaster."

I gasped.

"Excuse me?"

Papa looked amused.

"What happened?"

Mihir sighed dramatically.

"She once burnt the entire kitchen."

"Not the food."

"The kitchen."

"One pan survived as a victim."

I stared at him.

"Oh my God."

Papa looked at me.

"Aayu..."

"Are you serious?"

I pointed at Mihir.

"Papa, he is exaggerating."

Mihir shook his head.

"Sir, I am not."

"The fire alarm was more stressed than I was."

I covered my face.

"Please stop."

Papa laughed.

A real laugh.

And hearing it...

after everything...

felt like a miracle.

"Mihir."

I looked at him.

"Don't listen to him."

"He is making me sound like I don't know anything."

Mihir smiled.

"Because you don't."

I gave him a warning look.

He continued anyway.

"Actually, sir..."

"She doesn't cook."

"But she does have another talent."

Papa looked interested.

"What?"

"Ordering food."

I immediately pointed at him.

"Traitor."

Papa laughed again.

"Mihir, is that true?"

I opened my mouth.

Then closed it.

Because unfortunately...

it was.

Mihir leaned back.

"Sir, I had to block food delivery apps from her phone."

Papa looked shocked.

"You did what?"

I immediately defended myself.

"Papa, don't believe him."

Mihir looked at me.

"When she eats too much outside food..."

"Her stomach gets upset."

I looked away.

He wasn't wrong.

"And then?"

Papa asked.

Mihir sighed.

"Then she spends the entire night regretting her choices."

My face heated.

"Mihir!"

Papa looked between us.

And then...

he smiled.

Not a polite smile.

A father's smile.

The kind that said he was seeing his daughter being cared for.

"You worry about her a lot."

The room became quiet.

Mihir's expression softened.

"Yes."

The answer came easily.

No hesitation.

No embarrassment.

Just yes.

I looked at him.

And for some reason...

that one word affected me more than all the grand gestures.

Because Mihir didn't say it like a duty.

He said it like a fact.

Papa noticed the silence between us.

A small smile appeared on his face.

"I think..."

he said quietly,

"...I understand why my daughter trusts you."

My heart paused.

Because I wasn't sure when that happened.

When did I start trusting him?

When did he become the person I looked for first?

When did a marriage that began as a contract start feeling like something I was afraid to lose?

I looked away before anyone could see the answer on my face.

But Mihir...

for a brief second...

looked at me.

And I knew.

He noticed.

The laughter slowly faded.

But the warmth remained.

For a few minutes...

it almost felt normal.

Almost like we were just a family sitting together.

Not inside a prison.

Not after twenty-one years of separation.

Not after losing so much.

Then Mihir's expression changed.

The softness remained...

but there was a seriousness behind his eyes now.

He looked at Papa.

"Sir."

Papa immediately looked at him.

"Yes?"

Mihir sat straighter.

"Tomorrow, you'll have to appear in court."

The smile on Papa's face slowly disappeared.

Reality returned.

The case.

The accusations.

The years stolen from him.

"Tomorrow?"

Mihir nodded.

"Yes."

"It will be the first step."

Papa looked down at his hands.

Twenty-one years of chains had taught him not to expect things to happen quickly.

"I..."

He hesitated.

"I don't know if I remember how to face a courtroom anymore."

My heart tightened.

I opened my mouth.

But Mihir spoke first.

"Sir."

Papa looked at him.

"It won't be easy."

His voice was calm.

"There will be questions."

"There will be people trying to bring up the past."

"There will be people who will want you to believe nothing has changed."

A pause.

"But remember one thing."

"You are not walking into that courtroom as Prisoner Number 704."

Papa looked up.

"You are walking in as Devang Kapoor."

The words hit him.

I saw it.

The smallest change in his expression.

The return of the man he used to be.

Mihir continued.

"Twenty-one years ago, they had a story."

"Tomorrow, we bring the truth."

Papa remained silent.

Then slowly nodded.

"It won't be easy."

"No."

Mihir smiled faintly.

"But I am sure you will handle it."

Papa looked surprised.

"You're sure?"

Mihir nodded.

"Yes."

"Because I have seen what kind of man raised Aayat."

My eyes softened.

Papa looked at me.

Then back at Mihir.

For a moment...

he didn't say anything.

Then Mihir added,

"And sir..."

His voice became firmer.

"Don't worry about Tej Kapoor."

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Papa's expression hardened.

Aayat.

The name alone carried twenty-one years of pain.

Mihir continued.

"I'll handle him."

My eyes moved to him.

"Mihir..."

He looked at me briefly.

Not dismissing me.

Just reassuring me.

Then he turned back to Papa.

"We'll do everything legally."

"Every piece of evidence."

"Every record."

"Every witness."

"But Tej Kapoor won't get another chance to hide behind lies."

Papa studied him.

"You are taking a big risk."

Mihir smiled slightly.

"Sir..."

He glanced at me.

"I think I took that risk a long time ago."

My breath caught.

Because I knew what he meant.

He wasn't talking about Tej.

He was talking about me.

Papa noticed the look between us.

A small smile appeared on his face.

"You care about her."

Mihir didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

One word.

Simple.

Certain.

I looked away.

Because hearing him say it so easily...

still affected me.

Papa looked at me.

Then at Mihir.

And quietly said,

"Then I have one request."

Mihir nodded.

"Anything, sir."

"Don't let her carry everything alone."

The room went silent.

My fingers tightened.

Because that was exactly what I had done my entire life.

Carried everything.

Mihir looked at Papa.

Then at me.

And his answer came softly.

"I won't."

Papa nodded.

"Good."

A faint smile crossed his face.

"Then tomorrow..."

He looked at the three of us.

"...we fight together."

And for the first time...

the word together didn't feel unfamiliar.

It felt like home.

-

The drive back to the hotel was quieter than usual.

Mihir was sitting beside me, focused on his phone.

Probably arranging tomorrow's hearing.

Probably making sure every document was in place.

Probably solving problems that weren't even his to solve.

I watched him silently.

And the strange thing was...

I wasn't thinking about the case.

Not about Tej.

Not even about tomorrow.

I was thinking about what I had seen today.

The way my father looked at him.

The way Mihir had spoken to him.

Not like a powerful politician.

Not like someone who was doing him a favour.

But like he was simply a man who deserved respect.

My father had lost twenty-one years.

And Mihir had never once treated him like he was only a prisoner.

He had called him sir.

He had promised him that he wouldn't face this alone.

And he had meant every word.

I looked down.

A strange feeling settled in my chest.

Because Mihir wasn't supposed to do any of this.

Our marriage had started with conditions.

A timeline.

Boundaries.

An agreement.

He knew there was a day when everything would change.

Yet he still stood beside me.

He still fought for my father.

He still protected me.

I looked at him again.

How did someone do so much...

without expecting anything in return?

My thoughts drifted back to the moment from before.

The moment I had acted without thinking.

The memory alone was enough to make me feel embarrassed.

Why did I do that?

What must he think of me?

I quickly looked out of the window.

No.

I was not going to think about that.

I had enough things to worry about.

But then another thought appeared.

A small, impossible question.

What if...

I stopped myself.

No.

That was not important.

Except...

somewhere along the way, Mihir had become important.

That was the part I didn't know how to handle.

Because I understood enemies.

I understood negotiations.

I understood battles.

But I didn't understand someone choosing to stand beside me simply because they wanted to.

The car came to a stop outside the hotel.

Mihir finally looked up from his phone.

"You've been quiet."

I immediately looked away.

"I'm thinking."

A small smile appeared on his face.

"That sentence from you usually means something complicated is happening."

I gave him a look.

"Not everything I think is a crisis."

"I know."

His voice softened.

"Sometimes you're just trying to carry too many things at once."

For some reason...

that answer stayed with me.

Because he wasn't asking me to explain.

He wasn't trying to fix everything.

He was just noticing.

And maybe that was what made him different.

I stepped out of the car.

For the first time in a long time...

I wasn't walking toward the next problem alone.

And that realization...

was both comforting and terrifying.

The elevator ride to the suite was silent.

Mihir stood beside me, still going through updates on his phone.

I watched the numbers above the door change.

Floor after floor.

And somehow...

my mind was still stuck on the same thing.

Him.

I hated that.

I was Aayat Kapoor.

I had handled boardrooms filled with people twice my age.

I had negotiated deals where millions were at stake.

I had walked into impossible situations and found a way out.

But one man quietly standing beside me...

had somehow become the one thing I couldn't analyze.

The elevator doors opened.

I walked inside the suite.

The familiar room came into view.

The same room where everything had changed.

Where I had cried.

Where Mihir had stayed awake all night.

Where I had finally allowed myself to admit that I was scared.

And where...

I had kissed him.

My face immediately heated again.

No.

Absolutely not.

I was not thinking about that.

I placed the files on the table.

Mihir noticed.

"Careful."

I looked at him.

"What?"

"You've been holding those documents like someone is going to steal them."

I looked down.

My fingers were still tightly wrapped around the folder.

I loosened my grip.

"I spent twenty-one years without answers."

My voice became quieter.

"Now that I have them..."

"I don't want to lose them."

Mihir's expression softened.

"You won't."

I looked at him.

There was no hesitation.

No doubt.

Just certainty.

And somehow...

that was more dangerous than anything else.

Because I believed him.

A few minutes later, Mihir moved toward the desk and opened his laptop again.

Of course.

Even after everything.

He was working.

I crossed my arms.

"You know you don't have to solve the entire world in one night."

He looked up.

"I know."

"Do you?"

A small smile appeared.

"Yes."

"Then why are you working?"

"Because tomorrow matters."

I sighed.

"Mihir."

He looked at me.

"What?"

"You promised my father you wouldn't let me carry everything alone."

"Yes."

"Then stop carrying everything alone too."

For a second...

he didn't answer.

And I realized something.

Mihir was very good at taking care of everyone.

Except himself.

His expression softened slightly.

"I'll try."

I raised an eyebrow.

"That wasn't convincing."

A small laugh escaped him.

"You sound like me now."

"I don't know if I should be offended."

"You should be."

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Then silence returned.

But this time...

it wasn't heavy.

It was familiar.

Comfortable.

I sat on the sofa.

Mihir remained at the desk.

And I found myself watching him again.

The man who had walked into my life because of a contract.

The man who was supposed to leave when the contract ended.

The man who had somehow become the person my father trusted.

The person I trusted.

My thoughts returned to that impossible question.

What if I kissed him again?

I immediately shook my head.

No.

Aayat.

Focus.

But then...

I remembered his expression the first time.

The surprise.

The way he had completely forgotten how to respond.

A tiny smile escaped me.

Would he react the same way?

Or would he finally know what to do?

I quickly looked away when Mihir glanced at me.

"What?"

I froze.

"What?"

"You were smiling."

"I was not."

"You were."

"I was thinking."

He leaned back slightly.

"That explanation is becoming suspicious."

I rolled my eyes.

"You are impossible."

"And yet..."

He smiled.

"You're still here."

The words were simple.

But they stayed.

Because he was right.

I was still here.

Not because of a contract.

Not because of an obligation.

Because somewhere along the way...

leaving had stopped feeling like an option.

And that realization scared me more than anything else.

Because tomorrow we would fight for my father.

We would face Tej Kapoor.

We would face the past.

But tonight...

for the first time...

I had to face something much harder.

What Mihir Raghuvanshi had become to me.

The next morning came too quickly.

I barely slept.

Not because I was afraid of the courtroom.

I had faced worse.

But because today wasn't just about a case.

Today was about my father.

The man who had spent twenty-one years being called a murderer.

The man who had lost everything because of a lie.

I adjusted the file in my hands as we entered the courthouse.

The moment the doors opened...

everything felt different.

Most of the people inside were Russian.

Lawyers.

Officials.

Journalists.

People who had no idea how much this moment meant to me.

To them...

this was another hearing.

Another case.

Another name on a list.

But to me...

it was the first day my father's voice would finally be heard.

Mihir walked beside me.

Calm.

Focused.

Exactly the way he always was when things became difficult.

His presence grounded me.

We entered the courtroom.

And then...

I saw them.

My steps stopped.

For a second...

everything around me became silent.

Tej Kapoor.

And beside him...

Shruti Kapoor.

My mother.

Twenty-one years of memories.

Pain.

Questions.

Everything came rushing back at once.

Shruti looked older.

Of course she did.

Time had passed.

But the person standing beside her...

was the same man whose name had haunted my father's entire life.

Tej.

The man who had taken everything.

My fingers tightened around the file.

Mihir noticed immediately.

"Aayat."

His voice was quiet.

A warning.

A reminder.

Not here.

Not like this.

I took a slow breath.

I wasn't the six-year-old girl who had lost her family.

I wasn't the woman who had spent years wondering why.

I was Aayat Kapoor.

And today...

I had the truth.

Across the courtroom, Tej looked at me.

For the first time...

I saw something different in his expression.

Not arrogance.

Not victory.

Fear.

Small.

Almost invisible.

But it was there.

Because he knew.

He knew the past he buried had finally returned.

Shruti's eyes met mine.

And for a moment...

I saw something I couldn't understand.

Guilt?

Regret?

Pain?

I didn't know.

And I wasn't sure I cared anymore.

Because I remembered the empty years.

The unanswered questions.

The child who waited for someone to come back.

The daughter who believed she had been abandoned.

Mihir leaned slightly closer.

"Remember why we're here."

I looked at him.

His eyes were steady.

"Your father."

I nodded.

Yes.

Not revenge.

Not anger.

Not them.

My father.

The courtroom doors opened again.

Everyone stood.

And then...

I saw him.

Devang Kapoor.

Walking in.

Not as Prisoner Number 704.

Not as the man the world had forgotten.

But as my father.

The entire courtroom watched him.

But I only saw one thing.

The man who had hugged me yesterday.

The man who had whispered that he thought he would never see me again.

His eyes found mine.

And for a second...

twenty-one years disappeared.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

I smiled back.

Because today...

he wasn't standing alone anymore.

He had me.

He had the truth.

And he had a chance.

The courtroom slowly settled.

The sound of papers moving.

The quiet whispers.

The translators speaking softly.

Everything felt distant.

My entire focus remained on one person.

Papa.

He sat there calmly.

But I knew him now.

I knew the small signs.

The way his fingers tightened slightly.

The way he took a deeper breath before speaking.

He was nervous.

Of course he was.

Twenty-one years of being unheard...

and today he had to speak in front of the world.

The judge looked toward the lawyers.

The questioning began.

A Russian prosecutor stood.

His expression was serious.

"Mr. Devang Kapoor."

Papa looked up.

"Yes."

"You were present in the vehicle on the night of the accident?"

"Yes."

"You were driving?"

A silence followed.

Papa answered calmly.

"Yes."

The lawyer looked at the documents in front of him.

"Your son, Arush Kapoor, was also inside the vehicle."

Papa's expression changed.

Only slightly.

But I saw it.

The mention of Arush still hurt.

"Yes."

"And your wife, Shruti Kapoor, and your daughter, Aayat Kapoor, were also present?"

Papa nodded.

"Yes."

The lawyer walked slowly.

"According to the original verdict, you intentionally caused the accident."

The courtroom became completely silent.

My hand tightened around the edge of the table.

Papa didn't look away.

"That is false."

The lawyer watched him.

"You expect this court to believe that after twenty-one years?"

Papa's voice remained steady.

"I expect the court to believe evidence."

A small murmur moved through the room.

The lawyer glanced at his papers.

"You were the last person in control of the vehicle."

"No."

The answer was immediate.

The lawyer paused.

"No?"

Papa shook his head.

"After the vehicle inspection, Tej Kapoor collected it."

The entire courtroom shifted.

Tej's expression changed.

Only for a second.

But I saw it.

The prosecutor looked toward him.

"You are accusing Mr. Tej Kapoor?"

Papa looked straight ahead.

"I am stating the truth."

The lawyer stepped closer.

"Mr. Kapoor, for twenty-one years you have had time to create a story."

My jaw tightened.

Mihir's hand moved slightly on the table.

A silent reminder.

Stay calm.

Papa didn't react.

"I had twenty-one years to remember."

"Not create."

The lawyer looked irritated.

"You claim the investigation was manipulated."

"Yes."

"And you have proof?"

Papa looked toward our side.

Toward the files.

Toward me.

Then toward Mihir.

"Yes."

The lawyer's eyes narrowed.

"What proof?"

Mihir leaned forward slightly.

"The original vehicle inspection report."

The lawyer turned.

"And you are?"

Mihir stood.

"Mihir Raghuvanshi."

The room immediately became quieter.

The translator spoke.

The judge looked at him.

"And your connection to this case?"

Mihir remained composed.

"I am here as legal support for Mr. Kapoor and his daughter."

The lawyer studied him.

"You were not involved twenty-one years ago."

"No."

"Then why should this court consider your findings?"

Mihir's voice remained calm.

"Because evidence does not depend on who finds it."

A silence followed.

The lawyer looked back at Papa.

"Mr. Kapoor."

"After the accident, you were arrested."

"Yes."

"You were accused of murdering your own son."

Papa's expression broke slightly.

Only for a moment.

But enough.

"I was accused of something I could never imagine doing."

The lawyer continued.

"And yet..."

"You remained silent for years."

The question hung there.

I knew this was the hardest part.

Papa looked down.

Then answered.

"Because I was threatened."

The courtroom changed.

Everyone was listening now.

The lawyer stopped.

"Threatened by whom?"

Papa looked up.

His voice was quiet.

But clear.

"Tej Kapoor."

A wave of whispers spread.

Tej immediately shifted in his seat.

The judge called for silence.

My heart was beating faster.

Because this was it.

The truth that had been buried.

Finally coming out.

The prosecutor looked at Papa.

"What did he threaten you with?"

Papa took a breath.

Then said the words that changed everything.

"He told me..."

"That if I wanted my daughter and wife to live..."

"I had to disappear."

The courtroom went completely silent.

The silence didn't last long.

The prosecutor recovered quickly.

He picked up another file.

The calm expression returned to his face.

Almost as if he had expected this.

"Mr. Kapoor."

Papa looked at him.

"You are making very serious accusations."

"Yes."

"You are accusing a respected businessman of framing you."

"Yes."

"You are claiming that multiple officials, investigators, and records were manipulated."

"Yes."

The prosecutor nodded slowly.

"That is a very convenient explanation after twenty-one years."

My fingers tightened.

Mihir noticed.

But Papa remained calm.

"I am not asking you to believe my words."

"Then what are you asking?"

"Look at the evidence."

The prosecutor walked closer.

"Evidence?"

He gave a small, humorless smile.

"Mr. Kapoor, the evidence was already examined twenty-one years ago."

"No."

Papa's voice was firm.

"The evidence presented was altered."

The prosecutor looked toward the judge.

"Your Honour, this is exactly the problem."

He turned back to Papa.

"Mr. Kapoor is asking this court to believe that everyone was wrong."

"Everyone except him."

A few whispers moved through the courtroom.

I felt anger rise.

But before I could react...

Mihir's hand lightly touched the file beside me.

A reminder.

Stay focused.

The prosecutor continued.

"You were the driver."

"Yes."

"You were the owner of the vehicle."

"Yes."

"You were the only adult who survived."

Papa's face changed slightly.

The words were carefully chosen.

Designed to make him look guilty.

The prosecutor noticed.

"Isn't it true that you had complete control over the situation that night?"

"No."

"Isn't it true that after the accident, your son died and you survived?"

Papa's eyes hardened.

"Yes."

"Isn't it true that your wife and daughter were also involved?"

"Yes."

"And yet..."

The prosecutor paused.

"You want this court to believe you had no involvement."

Papa looked directly at him.

"Yes."

"Why?"

The question echoed.

Papa answered quietly.

"Because I loved my son."

For a second...

the courtroom went still.

But the prosecutor didn't stop.

"You loved him?"

"Then why did he die?"

My breath caught.

The question was cruel.

Papa closed his eyes briefly.

When he opened them...

there was pain.

But no weakness.

"I have asked myself that question every single day for twenty-one years."

The prosecutor looked at him.

"That doesn't answer the question."

"It is the answer."

Papa's voice became heavier.

"I lost my son."

"I lost my wife."

"I lost my daughter."

"And then I lost my freedom."

A pause.

"If I had a choice..."

"I would have taken his place."

The courtroom became quiet.

Even the prosecutor hesitated for a moment.

But then he changed direction.

"Mr. Kapoor."

"Where is the proof that Mr. Tej Kapoor threatened you?"

Papa looked toward the documents.

"The original records."

The prosecutor shook his head.

"Old documents."

"Unverified."

"Hidden for twenty-one years."

"Conveniently appearing now."

Mihir's expression remained unreadable.

But I knew him.

He was calculating.

The prosecutor continued.

"You expect this court to ignore the official investigation because of papers that you present now?"

"No."

Papa replied.

"I expect this court to question why those papers were hidden."

The prosecutor looked annoyed.

"Your story keeps changing."

Papa frowned.

"My story has never changed."

"Twenty-one years ago, I said the same thing."

"No one listened."

A heavy silence followed.

Then the prosecutor turned toward the judge.

"Your Honour, the defence is attempting to turn a tragedy into a conspiracy."

My jaw tightened.

"Mr. Kapoor has spent decades refusing to accept responsibility."

Papa looked down.

For a moment...

I saw the pain return.

The years.

The loneliness.

The accusations.

Then he looked up.

And his voice was stronger.

"I accept responsibility for one thing."

The prosecutor paused.

"I was not there for my daughter when she needed me."

My heart broke.

"But I did not kill my son."

"And I did not betray my family."

The courtroom was silent.

The prosecutor looked at him for a long moment.

Then opened another file.

"Let's discuss your relationship with your wife."

I immediately looked up.

Papa's expression changed.

Because we all knew...

this was not about evidence anymore.

This was about trying to break him.

And Mihir knew it too.

His eyes became colder.

Because now...

they were no longer questioning a prisoner.

They were attacking my father's pain.

The prosecutor turned another page.

But this time...

something in his expression changed.

He wasn't trying to question anymore.

He was trying to reveal.

"Mr. Kapoor."

Papa looked up.

"Yes."

"You have repeatedly stated that your wife, Shruti Kapoor, was threatened by Tej Kapoor."

Papa remained silent for a moment.

Then answered carefully.

"That is what I believed."

The prosecutor looked at him.

"You believed?"

The word hung in the courtroom.

Papa's expression shifted.

Because even after twenty-one years...

there were still wounds he hadn't touched.

The prosecutor continued.

"But today, new evidence suggests something different."

My fingers tightened.

Mihir immediately noticed.

The prosecutor looked toward the documents.

"Your wife did not marry Tej Kapoor because she was forced."

The courtroom became still.

"She married him because she chose him."

Papa's face went completely blank.

Like the words had taken a moment to reach him.

The prosecutor continued.

"Isn't that true?"

A long silence.

Then Papa spoke.

"Yes."

His voice was quieter.

"That is what I later discovered."

My heart sank.

Because I knew what that meant.

For twenty-one years...

Papa had held onto one hope.

That Shruti had also been a victim.

That she had been forced.

That she had been protecting him.

But now...

even that hope had been taken away.

The prosecutor continued.

"And you also claim you were threatened to remain silent."

"Yes."

"But the person who benefited from your silence..."

"Was your own family."

Papa's jaw tightened.

The prosecutor looked toward Tej.

"And Mr. Tej Kapoor."

A pause.

"Your distant relative."

The courtroom murmured.

Because everyone knew the connection.

The Kapoor family.

A shared surname.

A bloodline.

Tej Kapoor, his third cousin.

A relationship that made the betrayal even worse.

The prosecutor turned back.

"You trusted him."

"Yes."

"And you trusted your wife."

Papa closed his eyes briefly.

"Yes."

"And both betrayed you."

Silence.

Papa didn't answer immediately.

Then...

"Yes."

The word carried twenty-one years of pain.

I looked at him.

My father.

The man who had lost his son.

His freedom.

His daughter.

And then discovered the people he thought would save him were the ones who destroyed him.

The prosecutor continued.

"Mr. Kapoor, did you know about their relationship before the accident?"

"No."

"Did you know they were working together?"

"No."

"When did you find out?"

Papa looked down.

"After I had already lost everything."

My chest tightened.

The prosecutor walked back.

"After accepting the conditions?"

Papa nodded.

"Yes."

"What conditions?"

Papa's voice became steady.

"The destruction of my name."

"The removal of my music."

"The disappearance of my identity."

"And my silence."

The courtroom listened.

"And why did you accept?"

Papa looked toward me.

There was no hesitation.

"Because I thought it would keep my daughter safe."

My eyes filled.

The prosecutor followed his gaze.

"Even when your wife was involved?"

Papa's expression broke slightly.

"I didn't know."

A pause.

"When I learned the truth..."

His voice lowered.

"...I had already spent years believing I was protecting my family."

No one spoke.

Not even the prosecutor.

Because there was nothing to attack in that answer.

Only tragedy.

I looked across the courtroom.

At Shruti.

She wasn't looking at Papa.

She wasn't looking at me.

She was looking down.

And for the first time...

I didn't see my mother.

I saw someone who had made a choice.

A choice that had taken twenty-one years from all of us.

Mihir leaned slightly closer.

His voice was barely a whisper.

"Aayat."

I looked at him.

"Stay focused."

I nodded.

Because he was right.

This wasn't the moment to fall apart.

Not when Papa was finally being heard.

The prosecutor returned to his seat.

And the judge looked toward the documents.

"The court will examine the newly submitted evidence."

A pause.

"The hearing will continue."

The gavel struck.

And I realized...

this was no longer just about proving Papa innocent.

It was about exposing every person who had helped bury the truth.

The judge's final words echoed through the courtroom.

"The next hearing will take place the day after tomorrow."

The room immediately came alive.

Lawyers began gathering files.

Officials moved around.

Reporters whispered among themselves.

But I barely heard any of it.

Because after twenty-one years...

the truth was finally moving.

Papa was no longer fighting alone.

We stepped outside the courtroom.

Mihir was speaking with one of the legal officials while I stood nearby, holding the documents close.

For the first time in days...

I allowed myself one breath.

One moment where I didn't feel like I was drowning.

Then...

I heard footsteps.

Slow.

Confident.

I already knew who it was before I turned around.

Tej Kapoor.

He stopped a few feet away.

His expression was calm.

Too calm.

"Aayat."

Hearing my name from him felt wrong.

I didn't answer.

He looked at the files in my hands.

"So this is what you found."

My grip tightened.

"You knew."

It wasn't a question.

His eyes flickered slightly.

A mistake.

A small one.

But I saw it.

"You have no idea what you're getting into."

I stared at him.

"Actually..."

I stepped forward slightly.

"For the first time in my life, I do."

His expression hardened.

"You think some old documents will change everything?"

"No."

I held his gaze.

"The truth will."

A humorless smile appeared on his face.

"You sound just like your father."

The words were meant to hurt.

They didn't.

Because for the first time...

I was proud of that comparison.

"That's the biggest compliment you've given me."

His smile disappeared.

"You don't understand the consequences of what you're doing."

I remained silent.

He stepped closer.

"You are opening doors that should have stayed closed."

My expression didn't change.

"Twenty-one years ago, you closed those doors."

A pause.

"Now I'm opening them."

His eyes became colder.

"You should think carefully, Aayat."

The way he said my name.

The warning behind it.

My body reacted before my mind did.

I stepped back slightly.

Not because I was afraid.

Because I understood exactly what kind of person stood in front of me.

Someone who had spent years believing he was untouchable.

His voice lowered.

"Some truths are better left buried."

Before I could answer...

"Is there a problem?"

Mihir's voice cut through the air.

I turned.

He was walking toward us.

The calm expression was gone.

His eyes were focused on Tej.

Cold.

Controlled.

Dangerously calm.

Tej looked at him.

"Mihir Raghuvanshi."

Mihir stopped beside me.

Not in front of me.

Beside me.

A quiet reminder.

I wasn't alone.

"Mr. Kapoor."

His voice was polite.

But there was no warmth.

Tej gave a small smile.

"We were just talking."

Mihir looked at me.

Then back at him.

"I don't think my wife looked like she was having a pleasant conversation."

Silence.

The word wife wasn't loud.

But it carried weight.

Tej's expression changed slightly.

Mihir continued.

"Let me make something clear."

He stepped closer.

"If you have something to say, say it in court."

"Through evidence."

"Through lawyers."

"Not through intimidation."

Tej laughed softly.

"You think you can scare me?"

Mihir's expression didn't move.

"No."

A pause.

"I don't need to scare you."

His voice lowered.

"Because the truth already does that."

For the first time...

Tej looked unsettled.

Only for a second.

But enough.

Mihir turned slightly toward me.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

But he didn't look convinced.

His eyes returned to Tej.

"Stay away from her."

Tej looked amused.

"And if I don't?"

Mihir's voice remained calm.

"Then every conversation you have, every action you take, and every attempt you make..."

A pause.

"...will become part of the evidence against you."

Tej stared at him.

Mihir didn't blink.

"See you in court."

Then he placed a hand lightly near my shoulder.

Not possessive.

Protective.

And guided me away.

I looked back once.

Tej was still standing there.

But for the first time...

he didn't look like the man who had won.

He looked like a man who had finally realized...

the people he buried had returned.

"Mihir", I called.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

1. If Aayat could give Devang one thing back after 21 years, what should it be-his freedom, his music, or his family?

2. Drop your favourite scene from this chapter!

3. honestly... how is Aayat supposed to process 21 years of lies AND have a court hearing at the same time? 😭

4. Did this chapter make you hate Tej even more?

5. What would you do if you discovered your entire childhood was based on a lie?

Tell me how was the chapter?

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