She froze—

She wanted to say something… but no words came out.
But then—her mind caught something.

Chauhan.

The surname.

Ek minute… ye Chauhan hai… matlab Aarika? Usne ek baar bola tha—
“Mere dada ji ke pehle tak sab Chauhan hi the… par papa ka Singh ho gaya, nahi to mera naam Aarika Singh Chauhan hota.”
Matlab… Aarika iski behan hai?
Par kya main ispe bharosa kar sakti hoon?
Kuch bhi karke mujhe Aarika tak pahunchna hai… par kaise?

She looked at him and asked,
“Aapki… behan hai?”

He seemed taken aback by the sudden question,
but he nodded slowly.

Hope flickered in her eyes.

She spoke again, carefully this time—
“Unka naam? Humara matlab… hum unse kabhi mile nahi hai, isliye pehchaan nahi paaye.”
His brows shot up slightly.

Damn… maine explain kyun kiya…

“Aarika,” he said.

The name left his lips—

and she froze.

Kya? Seriously…? Itna easy?
Bhagwan… rasta khud chalke mere paas aa gaya?

Without wasting another second,
she quickly searched for a parchment.
When she finally found one, she wrote—

Aarika,
Haan, main hoon.
Tu kahaan hai? Ye letter mila na to please reply kar.
Lakshita ka bhi message mila—uski situation alag hi hai.
Tu bas reply kar, main sab samjhaungi.
— Teri dost,
Krittika

She folded the parchment and held it out to him.
“Kripya… ise apni behan tak pahucha dijiye,” she said.
“Agar sambhav ho… to unhe humse milne ke liye kahiye. Humari unse milne ki ichha hai.”

He didn’t take it immediately.
His brows furrowed.
“Aapko achanak humari behan ki yaad kyun aayi, Rajkumari?”

She stilled.
Great… ab kya bolu?
“Rajkumar, main future se aayi hoon aur hum sab yahan phas gaye hai”? Wah Krittika… perfect.

She forced herself to stay calm.
“Woh… hume unse kuch kaam hai,” she said.
A slight pause.

“Par… yeh baat hum aapko nahi bata sakte.”

He looked at her—
long and hard.
Suspicion clear in his eyes.
She tried not to squirm under his gaze.

Bas le lo letter… please le lo… warna sab khatam…

He looked at her with narrowed eyes.

For a moment—

it felt like he could see right through her.

Then, slowly, he took the letter.

“Yeh hum pahucha denge,” he said quietly.
A pause.

His gaze darkened slightly.

“Par yaad rakhiye, Rajkumari…
agar isme kuch bhi galat hua—”

He leaned a little closer.

“—toh iska zimmedar aap hongi.”

His words lingered in the air— heavy , almost like warning.

And just like that—
he disappeared into the darkness.

For a moment, she stood there… still.

The letter was gone.
The risk was taken.

And now—there was no turning back.

Or had she just trusted the wrong person?​

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