Author's pov-
Siara's sobs were relentless, raw, tearing through the silence. She lifted her tear-streaked face, her vision blurred, as she turned to the people she once trusted with her life.
Her brothers.
The same ones who had called her their little sister, their angel, their protected one.
Her lips quivered as she choked out the words, "Y-you said I-I can't even hurt an insect... then how could you all b-believe that I could k-kill someone?"
Her voice cracked, splintering like glass, but the pain inside her did not shatter. It remained-a living, breathing thing, clawing at her insides, sinking its teeth into her soul.
"IT HURTS" she sobbed, her voice raw, pleading. "I-it's hurting too much."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Not a single one of them had an answer. Because there was no justification, no excuse that could ever erase the years of pain they had carved into her soul.
And in that moment, she was not the woman who had endured. She was not the survivor who had avenged herself.
She was simply a daughter. A sister.
A girl who had needed them.
And they had not been there.
Reyansh staggered forward, his legs barely holding him up before they gave out beneath him. He fell to his knees at her feet, his shoulders shaking with silent, wrecked sobs. He was utterly destroyed, stripped of everything he once believed in. There was nothing left-no certainty, no pride, no solace. Just the unbearable weight of regret crushing his chest. His world had ended the moment he realized the lies he had been fed, the betrayal he had unknowingly been a part of. And now, as he looked up at her, all he saw was the weight of their failure carved into her broken soul.
With trembling hands, he reached out, placing his palm gently on Siara's head. His fingers shook, as if afraid she would disappear, as if touching her would confirm that she was real-that she was still here despite everything.
"You are strong, doll," he whispered, his voice barely holding together. "Stronger than I ever thought you could be." His breath hitched as a fresh wave of agony crashed over him. "That day..." His throat closed up, remembering the moment he had told her to leave, the moment he had cast her away like she meant nothing. His voice broke entirely. "That day, I thought I lost my child... I actually did. I lost you."
Tears slipped down his cheek, and he let it fall. "I was the first one to hold you after Maa." His fingers curled against her scalp, holding onto her like she was the only thing anchoring him to this world. "You were so small, Siara. So tiny. And I swore I'd always protect you." A bitter chuckle escaped him, laced with grief. "Do you remember how I used to protect you from every little thing?" He looked at her through tear-blurred eyes, searching for a trace of the girl he once knew. "You know why?" His lips trembled as he whispered, "Because you were too pure for this world. You still are."
Siara harshly wiped her tears, but they wouldn't stop. She let out a bitter chuckle, one that carried no humor-only pain, only disbelief.
"Pure? And me?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, hollow and jagged like broken glass. "If getting raped by four men and then killing them like this makes someone pure, then sure-I am the purest of them all." Her voice was sharp, cutting, echoing through the suffocating silence like a cruel symphony of suffering.
Reyansh's breath caught, his hands trembling as he reached for her. He gently wiped her tears, even as his own continued their steady descent.
"You are," he whispered, his voice raw, barely holding together the weight of his breaking soul. "You are the purest, unlike us. If brothers are like us... then it's better to not have one. W-we deserve your hate." His words were a confession, a curse, a truth too heavy to bear.
Mahir stood nearby, watching but not interfering. He knew this was not a wound he could soothe, not a battle he could fight for her. This was hers. This was theirs.
One by one, her brothers came forward, their steps unsteady, their hearts heavier than they had ever been. Without a word, they sank to their knees beside her. Not as protectors, not as family-just as broken men drowning in their own guilt, rage, and helplessness. They set in the suffocating silence of a room painted in bloodâthe blood of the men their sister had slaughtered with her own hands. It clung to the floor, to their clothes, to the air itself. It was proof of her vengeance. Proof of her suffering. Proof of the justice she had been forced to take.
Siara's gaze lifted, her eyes hollow yet piercing as they locked onto Reyansh. Her voice, hoarse from unshed screams "H-hate? You think I can hate you? That I can hate the people who once gave me a beautiful life?
She let out a breathless, bitter chuckle, shaking her head as fresh tears burned their way down her face. "Then took it back as their compensation."
She leaned against the cold, unyielding wall, her body weary, her spirit exhausted. The tears didn't stop. They never did. She then pointed towards vivek, the youngest brother "You think I can hate him, who almost died once..to save me"
She turned to Avyaan, her lips quivering as memories bled into the present. "Or him?" Her voice cracked. "Who dressed as a fairy just to make me smile on my school play?"
A broken laugh escaped her, choked with agony. She shook her head. "I-I canât hate any of you." Her eyes searched theirs, pleading for somethingâanswers, reasons, something to mend the gaping wound in her chest. "But tell me⦠how am I supposed to forgive you?"
And then, Aryanâwho had been silent, who had been holding himself together with fraying threadsâbroke.
His sobs came suddenly, violently, shaking his entire body as he collapsed forward.
"D-dollâ¦" His voice was unrecognizable, strangled with agony. "I s-swear on you, I didnât mean any⦠any of those words. I really d-didnât." He gasped for breath between his cries, his hands clutching at his chest as if trying to hold himself together. "Give me any punishment," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Iâll bear it. I swear, I will."
"But pleaseâ¦" His voice broke completely, raw and aching. "Just donât give up on life."
She looked at him through the blur of her tears, her voice trembling but sharp like a blade. "Life? What life?"
Her chest rose and fell erratically, her fingers digging into her arms as if trying to hold herself together. "The one that gave me pain? The one that took away my everything? Or the one that forced me to become something I never wanted to be?"
Her broken laughter echoed in the room, empty and bitter. "Tell me⦠which life should I hold on to?"
Her father also fell to his knees before her, his hands trembling as he joined them in front of her, his shoulders shaking with every ragged breath. His tears, hot and unrelenting, fell onto the blood-stained floor, mixing with the remnants of the past they could never erase.
"W-we can never undo the crimes of our past," he choked out, his voice breaking beneath the weight of his guilt. "But I can'tâ" His breath hitched, his heart shattering as he looked at his daughter, his little girl, drowning in pain. "I can't see you like this, beta⦠I can't bear it. Not anymore."
His forehead nearly touched the floor as he wept. "I beg you, doll. Pleaseâ¦don't kill yourself like this" His sobs made his words tremble, his soul pleading with her in a way he never had before. "My daughter is strong. I never raised a weak girl. You were meant to be happy, to be free⦠not to carry this darkness, not to bleed for our sins."
His fingers clenched together as more tears streamed down his face. "What happened years ago⦠it is not your shame to bear. It is ours. It is mine." He gasped for breath, guilt clawing at his throat. "You were the child I swore to protect, and yet I let the world break you. I let you walk alone when you should have been in my arms, safe, loved."
His head bowed further, his body trembling with the depth of his regret. "Hate me. Curse me. Punish me, doll. But please, I beg youâdon't let our sins take you away from life."
Siara let out a hollow chuckle, one that carried no mirth. Her fingers curled into fists against her lap as she looked at the man who had once been her heroâthe father who should have shielded her from every storm, but instead had become a ghost in the moments she needed him most.
"You know," she whispered, her voice hauntingly calm, "when I woke up from that coma, my first thought wasnât of pain or fear." Her breath hitched, but she forced the words out. "It was of you. Of M-mumma." A bitter smile trembled on her lips. "I thought⦠she must have been crying. And youâ" her gaze locked onto his, raw and unflinching "âyou must have been blaming yourself."
Her voice wavered, but the rage, the heartbreak, the devastationâit all stood strong. "I kept staring at the door" A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, but she didn't wipe it away. "Waiting. Just waiting for my papa to come."
Her lip quivered as she let out a shaky breath. "No one came."
The silence after those words was deafening. A pause heavy enough to suffocate the room, to crush the weight of their guilt deeper into their chests. Her father flinched as if she had struck him.
"And trust me," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried more weight than a scream, "when I cut my wrist that nightâ¦" She swallowed, her throat burning. "It was the last peaceful thing I remember."
The tears came harder now, slipping past her lashes like silent confessions. "Because at least then, I wasnât waiting for anyone anymore."
She rose from the blood-soaked floor, her movements slow but deliberate, like a queen reclaiming her throne amidst the ruins. She wiped her tearsâfor the last timeâbefore lifting her chin, a quiet finality settling in her gaze. This time, she refused to let them fall again. When she spoke, her voice was cold steel wrapped in fire.
"Forget you ever had a daughter." She exhaled, steady and unshaken. "Forget you ever had a sister."
Her next words were not a plea, not a requestâbut a sentence.
"Family arrives when it mattersânot a decade too late. Ten years of silence spoke louder than your words ever could."
She turned around, stepping away from the wreckage of her pastâthe shattered remnants of those who had destroyed her. Some lay lifeless in their own blood, while others, though still breathing, were just as broken as the corpses beside them.
But she had done what she vowed.
She had bled, yesâbut she made sure every single one of them drowned in the same agony they had once inflicted on her. There was no mercy, no redemption. Only justice, carved in blood and sealed in silence.
She paused for a moment, glancing at Mahir, who had been silently observing the carnage unfold. Her voice was calm, almost detached, as she asked, "Are you planning to clean this mess?"
He didnât flinch, didnât even glance at the bodies. Instead, he shook his head.
She exhaled sharply, tilting her head. "Then walk."
His lips curled slightly, amusement flickering in his dark gaze. "Sarcasm feature unlocked again," he murmured.
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Soon they were in the car. The air inside was thick with the weight of everything that had transpired, yet Siara sat composed, her expression unreadable. Mahir, ever perceptive, let the silence stretch, understanding that some battles were fought within, without the need for words.
Without warning, he pulled the car to a slow stop in front of a small, charming ice cream parlor. The scent of vanilla and freshly made waffle cones wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the blood and chaos they had left behind.
Siara finally broke the silence, her voice calm but edged with curiosity. "Why are we here?"
Mahir leaned back, one hand lazily draped over the steering wheel, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. "Generally, people eat ice cream at places like this.."
She crossed her arms, staring at him blankly. "What am I? A kid?"
Under his breath, he muttered, "Yes, a very stubborn one."
He stepped out of the car, coming around to open her door with exaggerated patience. "Come on"
Siara remained seated, arms still crossed. "I donât eat sweets."
Mahir sighed, rubbing his temple. "That's how you maintain your scary reputation."
Siara tilted her head. "Exactly."
Mahir bent down to her level, his face mere inches from hers as he unbuckled her seatbelt with deliberate slowness. "Come out, Mrs. Sehgal, or Iâll carry you inside."
Siara placed both hands on his chest, and pushed him back. "I'm never saving you again from that woman."
He let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed. Instead, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her. "Here, wear this. Your clothes are stained with blood."
She took it without arguingâonly because he was right, of course. Mahir smirked, stepping aside and motioning towards the door. "Lead the way, Mrs. Sehgal."
Siara scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Mrs. Sehgal? You say that like I willingly signed up for this."
Mahir leaned in, his voice teasing yet low. "Willingly or not, but you did. For life, sweetheart."
She narrowed her eyes. "Bold of you to assume that."
Mahir chuckled, unfazed. "Rebel all you want, just do it after you eat your ice cream."
Siara crossed her arms. "What if I donât?"
He smirked, stepping closer, his voice a husky whisper. "Then Iâll have to feed you myself."
She shot him a glare. "Touch me with that spoon, and Iâll stab you with it."
Mahir merely shook his head, amused, as he opened the door for her. "Looking forward to it, Mrs. Sehgal."
Mahir asked her once they were inside, "Which flavor?"
Siara just shot him a cold glare.
He tapped his chin, pretending to analyze. "From that glare⦠letâs go with dark chocolate. Bitter, intimidating, and leaves a lasting impactâjust like you."
Siara raised a brow. "And what about you?"
Mahir smirked. "Vanilla, obviously. Classic, irresistible, and goes well with everything."
She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Self-praise at its finest. Should I step aside so your ego can have its own seat?"
Mahir chuckled, shaking his head as he bought their ice creams. Siara just stared ahead, a strange feeling settling in her chest. It had been yearsâno, a decadeâsince she last had ice cream. The memory was distant yet vivid, wrapped in laughter and the warmth of her brothers before everything fell apart.
Today, for the first time in ten years, she felt like she should indulge. Not for nostalgia. Not for sentiment. But as a quiet celebrationâof finally stealing a breath that didnât taste like pain.
They ate their ice creams in comfortable silence, but Mahirâs gaze never left her. He watched as she took slow, measured bitesâalmost as if she were rediscovering the taste, the feeling of something simple, something normal.
Once done, Siara stood up and walked to the counter. Mahir frowned, following her with his eyes as she placed another order.
"Who are you getting it for?" he asked, curiosity laced in his tone.
She didnât even glance at him as she replied, "Circus."
Mahir blinked, momentarily thrown off. Then realization dawned. Amused, he leaned in slightly. "Buy one for Avi too. Heâs at our place."
Siara rolled her eyes. "Great. One more clown to the collection."
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As soon as they pulled up to the house, Siara frowned and blinked twice before turning to Mahir. "Weâre at the wrong house. I canât hear anyone yelling."
Mahir just leaned against the car door, completely unfazed. "Wait for it."
Right on cue, a loud scream echoed from inside.
"AVI, YOU IDIOT, IâM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
Followed by, "DIVYA, YOU LUNATIC, STAY AWAY FROM ME!"
Mahir gestured toward the door. "Correct house."
Siara sighed but stepped inside, only to find complete chaos unfolding in the living room. Avi and Divya were at each other's throatsâAvi dramatically clutching his arm as if he had been gravely injured, while Divya looked one step away from throwing something much heavier than a pillow at him.
The moment Avi saw Siara, he practically sprinted toward her, pointing at his arm like a wounded soldier. "Dii! Thank god youâre here. These people belong in an asylum!" He dramatically exhaled. "This crazy girlâjust look at my arm! She scratched me! Can you believe it? I was kidnapped. They dragged me here without my consent! This is a violation of human rights!"
Divya rolled her eyes and, without hesitation, picked up a pillow and hurled it at him. It smacked him right in the face. "SHUT UP, YOU DRAMA QUEEN!"
Avi gasped, clutching his chest. "See, Dii?! VIOLENCE! Pure, unprovoked violence!"
Mahir, completely unfazed, walked past them and muttered, "This house needs a disclaimer: âEnter at your own risk.â"
Siara casually walked to the table, ignoring the chaos behind her, and placed the ice creams down with a loud thud. "Ice cream for the not-so-grown-up kids," she announced, deadpan.
Myra gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "Are you implying Iâm immature, bhabhi?"
Siara arched an eyebrow. "Iâm not implying, Iâm stating."
Kabir plopped onto the couch with a groan. "Forget ice cream, I need therapy. Bhabhi I'm married, you're hurting my sentiments"
Mahir, leaning against the wall, chuckled. "That is the therapy, Kabir. Sugar calms hyperactive children."
Avi pointed at divya. "EXACTLY! Divya, eat more of it, you need it!"
Divya threw another pillow at him. "SHUT UP, AVI!"
Shivay, watching the madness unfold, sighed heavily before grabbing his ice cream. He turned to Siara, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile. "I know you bought it."
Siara didn't bother replying.
Just then, the elders arrived, and of course, their beloved Dadi dropped a bombshell. "Tomorrow, I have arranged a puja," she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Siara, you are the eldest daughter-in-law of our family. You will cook 56 items for the offering. Alone. Make sure everything is ready by 9 in the morning."
The room went silent.
Kabir, in the middle of enjoying his ice cream, choked so hard he nearly fell off the couch.
Dadi? She didnât wait for responses. She simply turned on her heel and walked away, leaving behind a stunned audience.
Siara watched her retreating figure, her expression blank but her mind screaming: What am I? A chef? But, of course, she didnât say it out loud.
Meanwhile, Mahirâs mother turned to Rajeshwari, her voice filled with concern. "Maa⦠how is she supposed to do all that alone? Why would you put her through this?"
She just simply smirked. "Your son claims to love her," she said, amusement laced in her tone. "Letâs see how much he does. If he doesnât help her, Iâll personally throw him out of this house tomorrow."
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