Melbourne , Australia
The sterile, white walls of the hospital seemed to mirror Siaraâs heartâcold, unyielding, and devoid of color, she doesn't use her surname as it reminds her of her parents and her happy family. She walked down the bustling corridor with purpose, her sharp heels clicking against the polished floor. Every step she took commanded respect. Nurses nodded as she passed, junior doctors straightened their backs, and patients whispered her name like it was a miracle. Dr. Siara, the world-renowned neurosurgeon, the woman with hands steady enough to rewrite destiny.
But behind her success was silence. Not the comforting kind, but the void that came from years of solitude. Siara doesnât laugh, doesnât cry, and speaks only when necessary. Her words are always clipped, efficient, and impersonal. She had perfected the art of existing without attachment.
For six years, she had buried herself in work, shielding herself from the worldâs cruelty. She was a machine, a force, a shadow of the girl who once filled rooms with her chatter and her light. That girl had been left behind, the night her family turned her away, accusing her of a betrayal she never committed. That night had killed something inside herâa flame that no amount of success could reignite.
Siaraâs office was pristine, devoid of any personal touches. No photographs, no flowers, nothing to hint at a life beyond the white coat she wore like armor. She was reviewing a complex case when her assistant entered, hesitating at the door.
âDr. Siara, thereâs⦠a call for you. Itâs urgent.â
Siara didnât look up. âTake a messageâ she said coolly, her pen gliding over the patient file.
âItâs⦠from India. A man claiming to be your grandfather.â
The pen stopped mid-stroke. For the briefest moment, something flickered in her eyesârecognition, maybe even painâbut it was gone as quickly as it came. She set the pen down with deliberate calm and gestured for the phone.
Her grandfatherâs voice was weaker than she remembered, frail and trembling under the weight of age and sorrow. âSiara, meri bachhiâ¦â
It had been years since someone called her that, years since she had allowed herself to feel the warmth of such words. Yet, her voice was steady, devoid of emotion. âWhy are you calling, Dadu?â
A long pause followed, filled only by the sound of his labored breathing. âIâm dying, Siara. I wanted to see you⦠one last time. My last wish⦠is for you to come home.â
Home. The word felt foreign now, a place buried in the rubble of her past. She tightened her grip on the phone âDadu, you know I donâtââ
âSiara, please.â His voice cracked, desperation bleeding through. âIf you ever loved me, even a little, come back. For me. Not for them. For me.â
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Siara closed her eyes, her jaw tightening as she suppressed a surge of buried emotions. âIâll book my flight,â she said finally, her tone clipped.
She hung up before he could say anything else. The sound of the dial tone lingered, a hollow echo in the quiet room. Siara stared at the phone for a moment, then pushed it aside and resumed her work, as if the call had never happened.
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Siara pov-
Delhi,India
Two days later, I arrived at the Malhotra family home. It looked the same, yet felt entirely different. In all these years I never tried to connect to them nor they did. Every day, I wake up with a single purposeârevenge against the rapists who shattered me. But even after all this time, I still donât know who they were. Except⦠except for him, I would have killed him, as now I'm capable enough of fighting back..heck I break bones without a single ounce of regret but that bastard died in a car accident just three days after that night.
The grand gates that once welcomed her with open arms now seemed imposing, like they were bracing against my return Yet deep down, I know my brothers and my parentsâthey care. They always have. But they wonât admit it, not after what they believe I did. I want to cry, I want to scream and tell them how fucked up my past was but I no longer have the emotions to do so. I didn't do anything yet here I'm standing far away from the people who are my life, my home, my world.
I am no longer their doll who used to dance her way in the entire house. I am their doll who they lost when no one showed up after I woke up from coma. Hell they didn't even know about it but they didn't even try to find me....Well, that's a story of some other time.
As I stepped inside, the air was heavy with unspoken words.
Family-
Aarav Malhotra-
Aarav Malhotra is a man of tradition, honor, and unyielding principles. Once the doting father who spoiled his youngest daughter, he now carries the cold aura which no one can see through. His stern demeanor masking the ache of a father who deeply misses his âdoll.â Heâs cold on the surface, but late at night, he looks at her childhood photos, wondering if he could ever forgive her causing his oldest daughter in laws death and doing that sinful act or could she ever forgive him for abandoning her midnight.
Adhira Malhotra-
Adhira- Mother of Siara was the warm, nurturing heart of the family, the one Siara always turned to for comfort. But after the fateful night, she withdrew into herself, her grief turning into a quiet, distant resolve.
Adhiraâs love remains, but sheâs too consumed by her fury to break the wall between them and she was never a mother in law who made differences between her daughter in law and daughter. Even if she thinks of forgiving her for the other sin she committed, She cannot forgive her one daughter for causing the death of her another daughter.
Reyansh Malhotra (Oldest Brother)-
Reyansh, the eldest, CEO of Malhotra Empire, one of the youngest Billionaire in the world is the anchor of the family, a man who bears the weight of every responsibility. He was Siaraâs protector, her first confidant, and the one who tried to shield her from the world. But the night of betrayal broke something in him. He lost his wife, his baby. Now, he is a stoic, imposing figure who claims to no longer have any love left for his doll..his doll who never cared about her studies except her dance and used to radiant his life with her crazy talks.
Ekansh Malhotra
Ekansh, the second brother, CEO of Zadus Gamings is pragmatic and sharp. He was the voice of reason in the family, always the problem solver. After Siaraâs exile, he hardened himself, convincing everyone that they did the right thing. Yet, every time he thinks of her, he feels the sting of losing the sister who once looked up to him. His guilt is masked by a façade of indifference, but his longing to reconcile is buried deep.
Avyaan Malhotra
Avyaan is the quiet, introspective brother, CEO of Alpines- the most evolving tech company is the one who spoke the least but felt the most. He was Siaraâs secret keeper, the one who listened when no one else did. The rift between them haunts him, but he can't forgive her, he thinks that she no longer deserves all the love they used to shower on her.
Aryan Malhotra
Aryan, the second youngest, is fiery, arrogant and impulsive. He was the first to lash out the night everything fell apart, his anger stemming from his inability to believe his sister could do something like that, he was the one who told her things which still haunts her, he was the one who called her dance, her way of seduction. Now, his harshness hides a deep regret about the words he used but his hate overcomes that regret.
Vivek Malhotra (Youngest Brother)
Just a year older than Siara, Vivek was her partner-in-crime, her best friend. Their bond was the strongest, and losing her broke him in ways he couldnât articulate. His hatred for her now runs almost as deep as Aryanâs, laced with anger, resentment, and the pain of betrayal. But on Rakhi, when the house fills with laughter and the scent of festive sweets, his eyes betray him. Beneath all that rage, there are unshed tearsâsilent, aching proof that no matter how much he tries to hate her, a part of him still grieves for the sister he lost.
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