Dehradun's cool breeze drifted through the open windows, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine trees. The sky outside was painted in soft hues of dusk, the golden sun slowly sinking behind the hills.

The crisp mountain air carried a gentle chill, making the large dormitory hall feel even colder than it already was.

The large dormitory hall stretched endlessly, filled with rows of neatly arranged dual beds.

The high ceilings and pale blue walls gave it a cold, distant feel-nothing like home. The faint echoes of laughter and chatter from other students in the distance only made the silence between Maya and Prachi heavier.

They sat together on Prachi's assigned bed, the thin mattress creaking slightly under their weight.

Prachi ran her fingers absentmindedly over the coarse fabric of the bedsheet, her gaze fixed downward, lost in thought. Maya sat beside her, her hands resting on her lap, her heart aching with every breath she took.

Outside, through the large, iron-barred windows, Salim Chacha stood near the entrance, talking to an elderly man-perhaps the school administrator.

His hands moved as he spoke, his brows furrowed, as if ensuring everything would be taken care of.

But inside, in this vast, unfamiliar room, there was only silence.

Maya finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you like the bed?"

Prachi didn't answer. She simply shrugged, still tracing invisible patterns on the bedsheet.

Maya swallowed, forcing a smile.

"It's near the window. You always liked having a window seat."

Prachi let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Does it matter?" Her voice was flat, emotionless. "The view isn't the same."

Maya's chest tightened. "Prachi..."

Maya finally exhaled, her breath visible in the cold air.

"Prachi, I'll be going to Bangalore soon," she said, her voice gentle, careful.

"I need to find work, something stable. Once I settle, I'll come back for you."

Prachi's fingers stilled against the fabric, her shoulders tensing slightly.

"Bangalore?" she repeated, her voice small, uncertain.

Maya forced a smile, but her heart clenched painfully.

"Yes. After whatever happened, they will not allow me to stay that's why chacha told me to move on. But I'll call you. You will make new friends here , you won't be alone."

Prachi didn't respond right away. Instead, she leaned into Maya, resting her head against her shoulder, her body trembling slightly-not just from the cold, but from something deeper, something unspoken.

Maya wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. She pressed a soft kiss to Prachi's hair, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"I love you, Prachi. More than anything in this world."

Prachi finally whispered back, her voice muffled against Maya's sweater. "I love you too, Di."

Outside, the wind picked up, rustling the leaves and sending a shiver through the trees. But inside, on that unfamiliar bed, two sisters held onto each other, trying to make this moment last-before everything changed.

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The air in Dehradun carried a biting chill, the kind that settled deep into the bones. The sky was a dull shade of gray, heavy with unshed rain, and the wind carried the faint scent of damp earth and pine.

The towering hills in the distance stood silent, as if mourning the separation about to unfold.

Prachi stood at the entrance of the boarding school, her thin arms wrapped tightly around herself. The oversized sweater she wore did little to shield her from the cold. But Maya knew-it wasn't just the weather that made her shiver.

Salim Chacha took his place in the front seat of the taxi, exchanging a few quiet words with the driver before glancing back at Maya.

His eyes held a sorrowful understanding, but he didn't say anything. Some pains were beyond words.

Maya opened the door and slid into the back seat. The moment she sat down, she felt it-the unbearable weight pressing against her chest. She turned her head quickly, her eyes searching for Prachi.

She was still standing there.

Silent. Motionless.

Not crying. Not calling out. Just staring.

The taxi's engine roared to life, and with a soft lurch, the vehicle began to move.

Maya twisted in her seat, her heart pounding. Her eyes stayed locked onto Prachi, drinking in every last detail-the way her messy hair fell over her face, the way her fingers gripped the fabric of her sweater, the way she stood frozen, as if moving would shatter her into pieces.

With each passing second, the distance between them grew.

Prachi didn't run after the car. She didn't wave. She didn't cry.

She just stood there, watching.

Maya pressed her hand against the cold glass, her fingers trembling.

Maya's throat burned as she blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears threatening to spill.

Her vision blurred, and soon, the figure of her little sister became smaller... and smaller... until the mist swallowed her whole.

Even when there was nothing left to see, Maya kept looking back.

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The platform buzzed with the chaotic symphony of hurried footsteps, muffled announcements, and the distant wail of a departing train.

The evening air carried the scent of rain-soaked tracks, mingling with the smell of freshly brewed chai from a nearby stall.

The golden glow of the station lights cast long shadows on the worn-out floor, marking the final moments before Maya's departure.

Time was slipping away, and the weight of her imminent departure pressed heavily on her heart.

Surrounded by familiar faces-her makeshift family-the impending separation cast a somber hue over the moment.

She stood beside Salim Chacha, her hands tightly gripping the straps of her small bag.

Her other luggage was being loaded onto the train by a few of Chacha's garage men, their usual banter replaced by a heavy silence.

They worked quickly, but their movements lacked their usual ease-almost as if they, too, didn't want this moment to come.

Salim Chacha, a pillar of strength in her life, handed her a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled across it.

"Beta, I've arranged everything in Bangalore. Abdul will receive you at the station. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me,"

He assured her, his voice laced with concern.

His tired yet kind eyes lingered on Maya, searching her face for any trace of hesitation. But then, a deep concern flickered in them.

"Baccha, don't think me wrong, but how will Prachi live without you? You're her family, her everything. Just think about your decision once again. Is it right or not?"

The mention of Prachi made Maya's chest tighten. She understood the weight of his words, the gravity of the choice she had made. Yet, despite the storm of emotions within her, determination burned in her eyes.

"My Prachi is very strong, Chacha. She will stay without me. I've told her that once I get a job and settle there, I will take her with me. And if possible, please, Chacha, do try visit her sometime so she doesn't feel alone. Please, Chacha, it's my request."

Salim Chacha sighed, nodding.

"Of course, beta. I will. You don't need to worry about that." His voice was soft, but the unspoken pain in his words was evident.

The distant sound of the train horn pierced the air, a cruel reminder that her time here was running out.

Salim Chacha turned towards one of his men.

"Oye, Santosh! Did you bring the food?"

Santosh quickly handed him a tiffin, still warm to the touch.

Salim Chacha took it and placed it in Maya's hands, his fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.

"Achhe se khana, beta. Isme bahut khana hai. Bhooke mat rehna," he said, his voice filled with the warmth of a mother.

(Eat properly, child. There's plenty of food in this. Don't go hungry.)

Maya's fingers tightened around the tiffin as she lowered her gaze. A lump formed in her throat, making it hard to breathe. Thank you, Chacha... she wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out.

Salim Chacha hesitated before placing a firm hand on her head, his touch steady and comforting.

"If you ever have any trouble, just call. We are always here."

Maya's eyes welled up, and within seconds, silent tears spilled down her cheeks.

Salim Chacha let out a deep sigh and patted her head gently.

"Enough, enough. Stop crying now... If you cry, these guys will also start crying..."

Maya quickly wiped her tears. She forced herself to nod, even as her heart screamed for her to stay.

The garage men stepped back, and Maya climbed onto the train, gripping the metal bar at the entrance. The train jerked forward, its wheels groaning against the tracks.

She stood there, watching Salim Chacha's familiar figure slowly fade away as the train picked up speed.

Salim Chacha and his men lifted their hands in a final wave, and Maya did the same, even as her vision blurred with unshed tears.

And then-just like that-he was gone.

The platform disappeared behind her, swallowed by the distance.

Maya turned around and walked inside, her heart aching with every step.

She was alone now.

Truly, completely alone.

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The warm breeze of Bangalore City caressed Maya's face as she stepped out of the station, her heart pounding with anticipation.

The city hummed with life-honking rickshaws, hurried footsteps, and the occasional street vendor calling out his wares. This was it. A new beginning, a chance to rewrite her story.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for her contact. It didn't take long before a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard and a welcoming smile approached her.

He looked to be around 30 years old, dressed in a plain white kurta and faded blue jeans.

"Excuse me, are you Maya Verma, Salim Chacha's relative?" he asked in a polite yet familiar tone.

Maya turned towards him, her guard slightly up, but his mention of Salim Chacha reassured her.

"Yes, are you Abdul Bhai?" she inquired.

A broad smile spread across his face.

"Yes, sister. The one and only Abdul is here, and the taxi is ready for you. Please come; let me take your bags."

As she followed him to the taxi, she took in the cityscape-the contrast between old buildings with intricate architecture and shiny glass towers piercing the sky.

Seated comfortably, she let out a deep breath as Abdul started the engine. The city zoomed past them in a blur, but Abdul's curiosity sparked a conversation.

"So, sister, why are you here, and how do you know Salim Chacha?"

Maya, watching the road ahead, answered thoughtfully.

"I'm here to find a job. Salim Chacha is my guardian. He has always supported me. Actually, I used to work at his garage."

Abdul's brows raised in surprise.

"Oh, really? So, you know about cars and engines?"

"Yes, I do. I used to help at the garage a lot, fixing vehicles with Chacha and the boys."

Abdul let out an impressed whistle.

"Well, well, Chacha didn't mention that part! Anyway, as per his instructions, I've already found a house for you. It's not in the crowded part of the city but has all the necessary facilities. If you ever need anything, just call me. This Abdul is always free for his sister."

Maya smiled, touched by his kindness.

"Thank you, Bhaiya."

A comfortable silence fell over them as Abdul navigated through the winding roads. Green trees lined the streets, their branches swaying gently.

The air smelled fresher than the dusty railway station. Maya admired the city's vibrance, but her thoughts kept drifting to Prachi.

How was she? Was she missing her already?

Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed when the car came to a sudden halt.

"What happened, Bhaiya? Why did you stop? Is everything okay?" she asked, her brows furrowing.

Abdul leaned slightly out of the window, his expression puzzled.

"A car is blocking the road. You sit inside; let me check."

He stepped out and walked towards the stalled vehicle, where a middle-aged driver stood beside it, his face creased with frustration.

"Excuse me, Uncle. What's wrong? Why is your car in the middle of the road?" Abdul asked politely.

The driver let out an exasperated sigh.

"I have no idea, beta. It just stopped all of a sudden. I tried everything. I've already called a mechanic, but he's taking time to reach. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Abdul nodded understandingly and returned to the taxi, updating Maya.

"The mechanic is on his way. We'll have to wait a bit."

Maya tilted her head in thought.

"Can I go and check once?" she asked.

Abdul stared at her for a moment before suddenly bursting into laughter.

Maya blinked, confused.

"What happened, Bhaiya? Why are you laughing?"

Abdul wiped a fake tear, shaking his head.

"Oh, sister! I am such an idiot! When there's a mechanic sitting in my own car, willing to help, why did I even wait? How did it slip my mind?"

Maya rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a chuckle.

She stepped out of the taxi and approached the stalled vehicle, her sharp gaze scanning it.

"Excuse me, Uncle, if you don't mind, can I take a look?" she asked confidently.

The driver hesitated, glancing at her uncertainly.

Before he could respond, a deep, commanding voice interrupted.

"How much longer will it take to fix the car, Kaka? I have an important meeting to attend."

A tall man in his early 20s stepped out from the backseat of the stalled car. He had a sharp, chiseled face, neatly styled hair, and an expensive-looking navy blue suit. His eyes, dark and piercing, landed on Maya with mild curiosity.

"Who is she?" he asked, directing the question at his driver.

The older man cleared his throat.

"Beta, she said she can repair the car. The mechanic is taking time, so I thought-"

The suited man's brows arched slightly, his gaze flicking between Maya and the stalled vehicle.

"It's okay. Go ahead."

Maya nodded and crouched beside the car. She ran her fingers along the engine components, checking the battery connections and fuel lines. It took her less than a minute to diagnose the issue.

With deft hands, she adjusted a few wires, tightened a loose connection, and then stepped back, wiping her hands on her dupatta.

"Uncle, try starting it now."

The driver hesitated before turning the key.

The engine roared to life instantly.

A smile of relief spread across the driver's face.

"Wah! Beta, you did it! Thank you so much!"

The suited man, who had been observing quietly, finally stepped forward.

"Impressive. Thank you, Ms...?"

Maya dusted her hands and straightened up.

"Maya Verma."

The man nodded, offering a firm handshake.

"Ajit Mehta."

Their hands met briefly, and for a moment, Maya felt an odd spark of familiarity. There was something about him-his confidence, his commanding presence-that made him stand out.

Ajit glanced at his luxury watch and then back at Maya.

"Where did you learn to fix cars?"

Maya shrugged.

"Worked at a garage for years. It's second nature now."

Ajit smirked slightly, his curiosity piqued.

"Interesting. Anyway, thanks again, Ms. Verma. We'll meet again, I'm sure."

Maya simply nodded, stepping back as Ajit's car sped away.

Abdul leaned against their taxi, arms crossed, a knowing look on his face.

"I think he was impressed, sister."

Maya rolled her eyes and got back into the car.

"Let's just go home, Bhaiya. I've had enough excitement for today."

As they drove away, she couldn't shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much bigger.

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The taxi rattled along the uneven road, moving farther away from the city's glow. The streets grew quieter, the buildings more sparse, until they disappeared entirely, giving way to dense trees and endless silence.

The air smelled of earth and damp wood, a stark contrast to the gasoline and concrete of Bangalore's bustling core.

Maya peered out of the window, her brows furrowing. Where were they going?

Beside her, Abdul Bhai, sturdy and ever-reliable, caught her worried expression and chuckled.

"I know what you're thinking, sister. 'Where on earth is this place?' Right?"

Maya gave a hesitant nod.

"I won't lie, Bhaiya. It's... isolated. Are we still in Bangalore?"

Abdul laughed.

"Technically, yes. But listen, Maya, finding a rented house in the city on a small budget is impossible. I searched a lot, and this was the best option. The landlord lives abroad, doesn't care about the place, and the rent is dirt cheap. No nosy neighbors, no problems."

Maya took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the straps of her bag.

"But it's so lonely... Who even lives around here?"

Abdul sighed, his usual playfulness giving way to honesty.

"Very few people. Some old families, a handful of workers who travel to the city, that's it. But that's a good thing, no? No one to bother you, no noise, just peace. It's safer than it looks."

Maya looked outside again. The trees loomed tall, their dark silhouettes swaying against the evening sky.

A solitary house stood at the end of the dirt road, small but sturdy, with an old wooden door and faint traces of moss creeping up its walls. It looked untouched, forgotten by time.

The taxi stopped, and Abdul hopped out, stretching his arms.

"Alright, we're here!" He grabbed Maya's bags from the trunk and gestured toward the house.

"Come, let's check it out."

Maya followed, her footsteps crunching against the gravel. Abdul pushed open the creaky wooden door, revealing the dusty but spacious interior.

The house had two rooms, an old cot in the corner, and a tiny kitchen with barely any furnishings. The air smelled of dust and aged wood.

"It's not bad, right? Just needs some cleaning, and it'll feel like home," Abdul said, placing the bags inside.

Maya stood in the middle of the room, absorbing the silence. It was a far cry from the chaotic streets she had imagined-no honking cars, no bustling crowds-just the rustling of leaves and the occasional distant hoot of an owl.

"It's... different," she admitted.

Abdul clapped his hands together.

"That's the spirit! Now, let's clean this place up. But first-" He pointed a finger at her.

"Call Salim Chacha. He'll be waiting for your update."

Maya nodded and pulled out her phone. The network was weak, but she managed to get a signal.

After a few rings, Salim Chacha's voice came through.

"Maya beta! Did you reach safely?"

"Yes, Chacha. I just arrived. Abdul Bhai is with me, and he found a good house. It's a bit far from the city, but it's within budget."

Salim Chacha hummed thoughtfully.

"Hmm... If Abdul found it, then it must be fine. Beta, if you ever feel unsafe, just call me. And remember, don't trust strangers too quickly."

Maya smiled.

"Don't worry, Chacha. I'll be careful. And thank you for everything."

"Always, beta. Take care."

The call ended, and Maya let out a breath. She glanced at Abdul, who was already wiping the dust off an old wooden chair.

"All good?" he asked.

"Yes. Now, let's start cleaning. But-" Maya smirked, remembering their earlier conversation. "You better not forget our deal. The day I get a job, you're getting a feast."

Abdul grinned.

"That's the best motivation ever. Now, come on, let's make this place livable."

As they set to work, the house slowly shed its abandoned look, dust giving way to a sense of warmth. The loneliness of the forest no longer felt suffocating-instead, it carried a quiet promise.

A new beginning, tucked away from the world.

Maybe, just maybe, Maya could make it work.

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As the evening set in, the house was finally starting to feel a little more like a home.

Abdul wiped the sweat off his forehead, stepping back after finishing his work on the ceiling fan. It hummed steadily, bringing much-needed relief from the heat.

Maya noticed his exhaustion and quickly went to fetch a glass of water. She handed it to him, and he drank it in one go before sighing in relief.

"Ahh, nothing feels better than cold water after hard work," he said, stretching his sore muscles.

Maya took a seat on the floor beside him.

"Bhaiya, you've done so much for me today. I really don't know how to thank you," she said sincerely.

Abdul waved her off.

"Stop with the thank-yous, sister. If you keep thanking me, I'll start charging you rent for every word," he joked, making Maya chuckle.

They sat in a comfortable silence, the room now filled with a soft breeze from the fan.

After a while, Abdul leaned against the wall and sighed.

"You know, this reminds me of home. Back when I was a kid, we lived in a small house, nothing fancy, but it was always filled with warmth."

Maya glanced at him.

"Tell me about your family, Bhaiya," she asked gently.

Abdul gave a small smile.

"My mother-she's a strong woman, the strongest I know. She raised me and my sister alone after our father passed away."

Maya listened quietly.

"I was just eleven when it happened," Abdul continued.

"My father was a driver, a hardworking man. One day, he left for work and never came back. An accident. Everything changed overnight."

Maya's heart ached at his words.

"It must have been really hard," she said softly.

Abdul nodded.

"It was. My mother worked in houses, took up whatever jobs she could find to raise us. I always wanted to help, but I was just a kid. When I grew older, I took up whatever work I could find- waiter, driver, delivery boy-anything to support her."

Maya saw the pride in his eyes when he spoke of his mother.

"And your sister?" she asked.

Abdul's expression softened.

"She's married now, settled in her life. I made sure she studied well, had a good future. Maa is still in our old house, she always says I work too much," he chuckled.

Maya smiled, admiring his dedication to his family.

After a brief pause, Abdul clapped his hands together.

"Alright, enough about me! Now listen, there's no way I'm letting you stay here alone tonight. This house still needs work, and it's not safe."

Maya frowned. "But Bhaiya, I-"

"No arguments! You're coming to my house for dinner, and you'll stay the night. Maa will be happy to meet you, and you'll get a proper meal," Abdul declared firmly.

Maya hesitated, but Abdul's insistence left no room for debate.

With a sigh, she nodded.

"Fine, but only for tonight. Tomorrow, we'll come back and finish setting up."

Abdul grinned. "That's my sister! Now come on, let's go before Maa starts scolding me for being late."

Maya chuckled as she grabbed her bag. For the first time since arriving in Bangalore, she felt a little less alone.

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𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿..