"Do you know Ramesh's family is coming the day after tomorrow to fix our marriage?" said the girl shyly as she and her friend walked through the forest to collect wood for cooking.

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Her friend, carrying a small bundle of sticks, glanced at her with a teasing grin.

"Ooye, don't mention Jijaji's name like that... You know it's considered a sin," she said, a playful glint in her eye.

"Just wait and see what Jijaji does to you after the wedding."

The shy girl blushed even more, swatting at her friend's arm lightly.

"Aaye, don't tease me like that!" she said, unable to hide her smile.

The two girls continued deeper into the forest, their laughter echoing through the trees.

The sun filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor as they chattered away about the upcoming wedding and the new life that awaited the shy girl.

Despite the seriousness of their task, the air was light with their joy and anticipation.

"Do you know what happened yesterday at Thakur Haveli?" the girl asked, her voice tinged with seriousness.

The playful atmosphere from their earlier conversation had evaporated, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

"Yes, this morning the neighbor aunty told my mom. It was a very dangerous situation there," replied the other girl, her face mirroring the concern in her friend's voice.

The usual sparkle in her eyes was replaced by a shadow of worry.

"They took Thakurine and Chote Thakur," the first girl added, her voice dropping to a whisper as if the very trees around them could eavesdrop on their conversation.

She glanced around nervously, the weight of her words sinking in.

"May God keep them safe," said the other girl, her voice heavy with sympathy.

They both fell silent, the gravity of the situation casting a somber mood over their usually cheerful routine.

As they continued their walk through the dense forest, the sunlight filtering through the leaves cast dappled patterns on the ground.

The girls kept their eyes on the path ahead, the serene surroundings now tainted by the grim news they had shared. The forest, usually a place of comfort and familiarity, seemed to close in around them.

Their conversation drifted to mundane topics, but an undercurrent of worry persisted.

The sound of their footsteps mingled with the rustle of leaves and distant bird calls. Suddenly, one of the girls paused, furrowing her brow.

"Did you smell that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The other girl stopped and sniffed the air, detecting the distinct smell of burned wood and a faint trace of smoke.

"Did you see this smoke?" asked one.

"It's coming from over there," pointed the other.

"Isn't it a forest fire?" asked one, her voice tinged with alarm.

"Let's go and see," said the other, her curiosity outweighing her fear.

They cautiously made their way toward the source of the smoke, their hearts pounding in their chests.

As they moved closer, the smell of burning grew stronger, and they could see a thin column of smoke rising through the trees.

Pushing through the underbrush, they emerged into a small clearing.

Their eyes widened in horror as they saw the charred remains of a campfire and, lying nearby, the unconscious forms of Tara and Manik.

Manik was crumpled beneath the shelter of a tree, his young form still and vulnerable.

In the center of the clearing, Tara lay exposed and battered, her body a testament to the brutality she had endured.

Their arms laden with forgotten firewood, the girls reacted swiftly, their hearts racing with concern.

One of them hurried to Manik's side, her movements careful yet urgent as she gently lifted his small, unconscious form into her arms.

Her face etched with a mixture of relief and worry, she cradled him close, reassured by the faint rhythm of his breathing.

The other girl moved swiftly to Tara, her eyes filled with compassion and sorrow at the sight of her bruised and bloodied friend.

With trembling hands, she swiftly untied her long dupatta, a vibrant contrast against the muted tones of the forest, and draped it carefully over Tara's naked body.

Her touch was gentle, seeking to restore dignity and provide comfort to Tara in her vulnerable state.

"Thakurine, please hold on," she whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion as she brushed a strand of hair from Tara's face.

"We can't carry them both alone," the first girl said urgently, her voice tinged with worry.

"We need to go back to the village and get help."

With a last, anxious look at Tara , the girl holding Manik in her arms turned swiftly and ran back through the forest.

Her footsteps pounded against the forest floor, the echoes blending with the stillness around them, as she hurried to summon aid and save the lives of those they had discovered.

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Prithvi awoke to the soft, diffused light of early morning seeping through the curtains, casting a gentle, golden hue across the room.

Beside him, Kusum, his mother, lay peacefully asleep, her head nestled on his arm. Her face, typically lined with care, appeared almost serene in sleep, though faint creases of worry marked her brow.

Despite the tranquil scene, Prithvi's mind was restless with thoughts of Tara and Manik.

The urgency to find them and ensure their safety pulsed through him, overriding any desire to linger in the comfort of the morning quiet.

With great care not to disturb Kusum, he gently disentangled her fingers from his arm and draped a warm blanket over her, ensuring she remained undisturbed in her slumber.

Moving slowly, Prithvi steadied himself against a lingering sense of dizziness, a reminder of recent turmoil.

He made his way to the wardrobe, his movements deliberate yet tentative.

Suraj burst into the room, panting heavily. The sudden entrance broke Kusum's slumber, and she stirred slightly.

Suraj's voice was breathless but urgent as he spoke the only words Prithvi had been desperate to hear,

"We found them."

In the hushed tranquility of the early morning, Suraj's urgent words reverberated through the corridors of Prithvi's ancestral home, jolting both Prithvi and Kusum into swift action.

Despite the lingering dizziness clouding his senses, Prithvi moved decisively out of the room, Kusum following closely behind.

Suraj hastened after them, ensuring to grab a blanket before joining their urgent procession.

"Did you inform the midwife to come?" Kusum's voice carried a note of urgency as they hurried down the stairs, each step echoing the gravity of the situation.

"Yes, maa," Suraj replied promptly, his concern palpable in the quickness of his steps.

Outside, the cartman urged his bulls onward with a sharp command, coaxing them to run faster as they pulled the cart along the dusty road towards the haveli.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense as the women sat anxiously with Tara and Manik. Worry and exhaustion lined their faces, etched by the strain of the harrowing ordeal.

Meanwhile, Prithvi stood at the threshold of the haveli's large iron doors, his eyes fixed on the approaching cart.

Each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity, his heart pounding with a tumultuous mix of hope and fear.

As the cart finally came into view, the sound of its wheels kicking up dust filled the air, adding to the heightened atmosphere of urgency.

Prithvi's hands clenched at his sides, his gaze unwavering as he willed the cart to move faster, desperate to reunite with Tara and Manik.

Behind him, Kusum, Suraj, and other family members including Manish stood in anxious anticipation.

They exchanged worried glances, their thoughts mirroring Prithvi's own turmoil and apprehension.

As the cart thundered past without stopping, Prithvi's heart raced with desperate urgency.

He sprinted towards it, his breaths shallow and rapid, only to be confronted with a scene that shattered his resolve.

There, amidst the dust and chaos, lay Tara and Manik-two figures so dear to him, now broken and battered.

The sight struck Prithvi like a blow to the chest, stealing the breath from his lungs.Prithvi stood frozen, caught in a haze of disbelief and fear.

The world seemed to spin around him as he struggled to comprehend the extent of the danger his loved ones had faced.

For a moment, Prithvi felt like he was trapped in a nightmare. The sight of Tara and Manik lying battered and broken was almost too much to bear. Reality hit him hard, a cruel reminder of the fragility of life.

His mind raced, but his body moved with determined clarity. Without saying a word, he took the blanket from Suraj's hand, his fingers trembling yet firm, and wrapped it tenderly around Tara.

He lifted her into his arms, cradling her protectively against his chest, every step heavy with the weight of his fear and love.

Suraj, his face pale but resolute, followed closely behind. He gently lifted Manik, holding him with a mix of care and urgency.

The boy's small, frail form seemed even more delicate in the dim early morning light. They moved as one, a silent procession of desperation and hope, making their way towards the haveli.

At the haveli's entrance, Kusum and the other family members stood frozen in stunned silence. Their faces were etched with worry and fear, eyes wide with disbelief at the scene unfolding before them.

The usually bustling courtyard was eerily quiet, the only sound the hurried footsteps of Prithvi and Suraj.

As Prithvi and Suraj approached, the family could see the pain and determination in their eyes. Kusum's breath caught in her throat, her hands instinctively clutching at her chest.

The sight of her daughter-in-law and grandson, fragile and vulnerable, brought tears to her eyes.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kusum rushed beside Prithvi and Suraj as they took Tara and Manik into different rooms.

She stayed close to Prithvi, her presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the turmoil.

Prithvi carried Tara with a mix of strength and tenderness, every step deliberate. Suraj followed with Manik, his steps equally careful.

The family watched, their silent prayers filling the air, as Kusum and Prithvi disappeared into one room, Suraj into another, each holding onto hope for the safety and recovery of their loved ones.

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Prithvi paced outside the corridor, his mind consumed with worry. In different rooms, both Tara and Manik were being treated, and the waiting felt endless. The dim light cast eerie shadows on the walls, reflecting the turmoil in his heart.

Soon, the door to Manik's room creaked open, and Prithvi rushed inside. The sight before him was devastating.

Manik lay unconscious on the bed, clad only in his short pants. His small face was covered with a paste of herbal leaves to reduce the swelling from a harsh slap.

Tiny cuts and bruises marred his little body, a testament to the violence he had endured.

Prithvi's heart ached as he approached his son, his steps faltering with the weight of his emotions. He gently touched Manik's cheek, careful not to disturb the paste. The boy's warmth was a cruel contrast to the cold fury building inside Prithvi.

"We have given him medicine," the doctor said quietly, breaking the heavy silence. "He will stay unconscious for a few more hours like this."

Prithvi nodded, barely hearing the doctor's words. His eyes were fixed on Manik's vulnerable form, and a torrent of emotions-fear, anger, helplessness-raged within him.

Slowly, he lifted Manik into his arms, cradling him protectively. He stared at his son's face, his anger boiling over.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder, and Prithvi turned to see Kusum standing beside him. Her eyes were filled with empathy and sorrow.

"Whoever did this will suffer, Maa," Prithvi whispered, his voice trembling with a promise of retribution. "I will not leave that bastard."

Outside, Padma stood silently, listening to Prithvi's vow. The tension in the air was palpable, and the sense of impending justice hung heavily around them.

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After some time, a maid entered the room, her face etched with urgency and concern. She approached Prithvi and Kusum with a sense of dread in her eyes.

"Bhaiyaji the midwife's assistance is calling for you," she said softly.

Prithvi carefully laid Manik back on the bed, ensuring he was comfortable. He turned to the maid and instructed, "Stay here with him. If he needs anything, come find us immediately."

The maid nodded. "Yes, Bhaiyaji"

With one last glance at Manik, Prithvi and Kusum left the room, their steps quickening as they moved down the corridor.

The air felt heavy with unspoken fears. As they approached the door to the room where Tara was being treated, the midwife's assistant stood outside, her face pale and anxious.

"What happened? Is Tara okay? And the baby, is the baby is alright? " Kusum asked immediately, her voice trembling with worry.

The assistant seemed nervous, struggling to find the right words. She looked down, taking a deep breath as if the words themselves were thorns in her throat.

"Thakur Sahab..." she began, her voice low and strained. "Her condition is not good... She..."

"Just tell us, is she and the baby is fine? " Prithvi demanded, his voice edged with desperation.

The assistant looked up, tears welling in her eyes. "The baby is already dead in her womb... She has been raped brutally," she said, her voice breaking.

"We have to take the baby out as soon as possible... otherwise it will be too late to save her," the assistant said, her voice trembling with urgency.

The others standing at a distance heard everything. Their faces reflected the shock and sorrow of the moment.

Kusum could no longer contain her grief and collapsed to her knees.

"Haaye bhagwaan!!! Konsi ki gunaah ki saja de raha tu !!! Jaan leni hai toh meri le le!! Mere bachho ko chod de!!" she cried out, her voice rising in anguish and desperation.

"Saab barbaad ho gaya!!" she wailed, her cries echoing through the corridor. Manvi rushed over and held Kusum, trying to offer some comfort.

"Maa... please calm down," Manvi said softly, her own eyes filled with tears as she held Kusum tightly.

Prithvi, overwhelmed by the weight of the news, lost his balance. Suraj quickly stepped forward and caught him, providing support as Prithvi struggled to stay upright.

"Stay strong, Bhaiya," Suraj whispered, his grip firm on Prithvi's arm. "You need to be strong for Bhabhi and Manik."

Prithvi, struggling to hold himself together, slipped out of Suraj's grasp.

Leaning against the wall for support, he slowly made his way out of the scene, needing space to process the overwhelming emotions crashing over him.

Suraj, watching his brother with a pained expression, turned back to the midwife's assistant.

"Please, do whatever you need to do to save Bhabhi," he implored, his voice thick with desperation.

The assistant nodded, her determination clear despite the gravity of the situation.

"We'll do everything we can," she assured him before hurrying back into the room where Tara lay.

Suraj remained by the door, his thoughts racing and heart aching for his brother, Tara, Manik and their unborn child.

He glanced back at Kusum, still weeping in Manvi's arms, and felt a surge of protectiveness and resolve.

"We'll get through this," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else, as he stood guard outside the room, waiting and hoping for a miracle.

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Prithvi stumbled down the corridor, using the walls to keep himself upright. His mind was a storm of rage, sorrow, and helplessness.

He could barely breathe, his chest tightening with each step.

The sight of Manik, battered and bruised, and the devastating news about Tara and their unborn child weighed heavily on him.

Reaching a secluded corner of the haveli, Prithvi collapsed against the wall, his legs giving way as he slid down to the floor.

The cool stone pressed against his back, contrasting sharply with the heat of his turmoil.

He buried his face in his hands, the full weight of his anguish crashing over him.

His shoulders shook with silent sobs at first, the pain too intense to vocalize. Tears flowed freely, soaking his hands.

He pressed his palms against his eyes, as if trying to block out the images that haunted him - Manik's swollen face, Tara's broken body, the midwife's words echoing in his ears.

With a strangled cry, Prithvi let out the sobs he had been holding back.

His cries filled the empty corridor, a raw, guttural sound that spoke of a heart shattered beyond repair.

He pounded his fist against the floor, the pain in his knuckles a brief distraction from the agony in his soul.

"Why?" he whispered hoarsely. "Why them? Why my family?"

Every breath he took seemed to tear at his chest, each exhale a struggle against the suffocating grief.

He thought of Tara, her strength, her kindness, and how she had been violated in the worst way imaginable. He thought of Manik, his innocent son, suffering for no reason.

The anger and helplessness mingled with his sorrow, a toxic mix that consumed him.

For what felt like an eternity, Prithvi remained there, lost in his grief. The walls of the haveli seemed to close in on him, the shadows growing darker, the silence more oppressive.

But gradually, as the torrent of tears began to subside, a new feeling started to take root within him - a fierce, unyielding resolve.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Prithvi wiped his tears. His eyes, red and swollen, hardened with determination.

He knew he couldn't afford to break down; his family needed him. He had to be their strength, their protector.

The fire of vengeance burned brightly in his heart, but it was tempered by the love he felt for Tara and Manik.

Slowly, Prithvi pushed himself up from the floor, his legs still shaky but his resolve unwavering.

He leaned against the wall for support, gathering his strength. With one last deep breath, he straightened, wiping away the remnants of his tears.

"Whoever did this will pay," he vowed, his voice low and trembling with fury. "I won't rest until they suffer for what they've done."

Determined, he turned back towards the corridor, ready to face whatever came next.

His family needed him, and he wouldn't let them down. As he walked back, he silently promised to protect them at any cost, his resolve hardening with each step.

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𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿....