Blood.

Blood.

Everywhere.

The scent hit me first no. The scent hit me like poison. Metallic. Sharp. Heavy.

I didn't want to look down.

But I did.

My hands.

Shaking. Wet. Red.

Soaked in something thick and warm.

Blood.

My breath caught in my throat as I slowly raised my eyes.

A body lay there.

Still.

Eyes wide open.

Mouth parted, frozen mid-breath.

But there was no breath left.

My father.

I stumbled toward him, knees buckling as I collapsed beside his body.

I reached out with trembling fingers, pressing against his chest like I could bring him back.

No response.

No heartbeat.

No warmth.

Just silence.

I wanted to scream.

But the sound never came.

No.

No no no no no.

This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.

And then, everything around me turned black.

⸻

Two hours earlier

I sat still in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me.

A bride.

My red lehenga shimmered under the lights, hand-stitched with golden vines and scattered tiny pearls. Layers of it spread around me like a blooming rose. My neck was heavy with kundan jewelry, my wrists jingled with bangles, and my fingers were freshly adorned with mehndi that still smelled of haldi and roses.

I wasn't just ready.

I was glowing.

Because today, I was marrying him.

Kush Sharma.

My boyfriend for three years.

Just a week ago, he had proposed to me at my favorite restaurant, under fairy lights, with a chocolate cake that read "Will you marry me?" in creamy cursive. He had gone down on one knee, hands shaking, eyes filled with hope, and when I saw the ring, I didn't even let him finish. I had said yes with tears in my eyes.

And now, it was all happening.

I took a deep breath and smiled at my reflection, barely able to sit still.

Then the door flung open behind me.

"Beta!"

[My child!]

I turned sharply and stood up, smiling before the sound even fully registered.

"Bhai!"

[Brother!]

Aarav stood in the doorway in a black kurta, sleeves rolled up, hair messily combed, and that classic grumpy look on his face. Typical. Even today, he looked ready to fight someone.

He walked in and wrapped me in a tight hug. I melted into his arms, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.

Even at twenty-one, I was still his baby.

"Tu abhi bhi sure hai na? Agar nahi, toh abhi shaadi cancel kar deta hoon."

[You're still sure, right? If not, I'll cancel the wedding right now.]

He pulled back and looked into my eyes.

"Mujhe waise bhi pasand nahi hai woh idiot."

[I never liked that idiot anyway.]

"Bhai!" I hit his arm gently and made a face.

[Brother!]

"Don't call him that. I love him, okay? And he loves me."

He rolled his eyes and flopped down onto the bed beside me.

"You're still my baby," he mumbled under his breath.

I sat next to him and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"I'm not a baby anymore."

He didn't reply. Just exhaled quietly.

Then his tone changed. Lower. Serious.

"Par agar usne tujhe kabhi rulaaya na... kasam se, main uski zindagi barbaad kar dunga."

[But if he ever makes you cry, I swear, I'll ruin his life.]

I looked up at him and smiled.

"You won't have to. He won't. Aap bhi na... itne filmy ho."

[You're so dramatic.]

That finally earned a small smile from him.

Then he suddenly shot up from the bed and slapped his forehead.

"Oh shit. Mumma ne bola tha tujhe mandap tak le jaane ko. Bilkul bhool gaya main."

[Mom told me to take you to the mandap. I completely forgot.]

He held out his hand with a half-grin.

Before I could take it, the door opened again.

Ishani walked in.

My older sister.

Calm. Composed. Silent.

She wore a pale gold saree with emerald earrings that matched the calm confidence in her eyes. Her hair was tied in a neat low bun, not a strand out of place. Her face was unreadable.

She looked at both of us.

"Agar tum dono ka emotional drama khatam ho gaya ho, toh chalo. Mumma bula rahi hai."

[If your emotional drama is over, let's go. Mom's calling.]

Her voice was as dry and direct as always, but not unkind. Just... Ishani.

She walked over to the dressing table, picked up my dupatta, and without saying a word, gently placed it over my head. She adjusted the veil carefully, tucking a loose curl behind my ear.

Her hands paused for a second.

Fingers brushed my shoulder.

She didn't speak, but that silence felt like something. Like quiet approval.

She offered me her hand.

I took it with my right.Aarav @took my left.

Between them, I felt grounded.

Safe.

Seen.

I walked with them down the stairs, heart thudding in my chest.

The scent of incense hit me. The soft music of shehnai echoed in the hall.

Guests turned to look. Some smiled. Some whispered.

Flashlights clicked.

Phones recorded.

And then I saw the mandap.

Draped in red roses and golden fabric. Sacred fire glowing softly in the center. Pandit ji was already chanting prayers, his voice calm and steady.

I sat down, adjusting the weight of my lehenga. My hands folded into my lap, fingers nervously clutching my bangles.

Any second now, Kush would walk in.

Any second now, I would become his forever.

Then

A loud crack.

So loud, it didn't belong in a wedding.

A gunshot.

Screams. Chaos. Gasps.

I threw my veil off in panic, turned around

And I saw him.

My father.

Lying on the floor.

Blood pouring from his chest.

Still.

Eyes open.

Mouth frozen.

No breath. No movement.

I ran.

I dropped to my knees beside him, hands pressing against the wound.

My palms turned red instantly.

My throat burned.

My heart shattered.

This wasn't happening.

Papa...

And then, everything around me dissolved into darkness.