The air felt thin. My blood drained from my face.
Marriage?
“No money,” he added firmly. “No settlements. My daughter is not for sale.”
My legs felt unsteady. This had gone far beyond a complaint. This was a trap. Somewhere behind that closed door, Kavya was silent. She never once came out. Never once denied it. Never once looked at me.
I had never imagined even in my worst dreams that she would do this. And for the first time since I had read that legal notice, real fear took hold of me.
Because whatever game this was…I was no longer the one controlling it. My life, my career, my future…they were now in someone else’s hands.
________
Chapter 5
KAVYA
I promise I’ll arrange the money. Please … please stop this marriage, Pa.
God knows how many times I repeated the same sentence in front of my father. I begged him, pleaded with him, even kneeled at his feet. For an entire week, I did nothing but cry, beg, and hope. And every time, he turned his face away as if I didn’t exist. He wasn’t ready to listen. He was forcing me to marry Saurav Chauhan, the same man who believed I had put false charges on him. The same man I hadn’t spoken to since our last meeting. I tried to reach out, to explain, but before I could do anything, my father locked me inside a room with my little sister, Kirti, and didn’t let me step out. As if trapping me would break my will. As if I hadn’t already broken enough. As if I had not faced the same thing before. He had been doing this for twenty three years. I was used to his cruelty and violence.
I glanced at Kirti as she lay silently on the bed, her small body swallowed by white sheets. Machines surrounded her like guards as monitors blinking, wires tangled, the steady beep… beep… beep cutting through the silence. An IV was attached to her fragile arm. Every sound in that room reminded me how thin the line was between her breathing and losing her forever.
Everything we had done, everything I had sacrificed was for her to live a normal life. But her body had grown too fragile. She was living on machines now. Her heart was too weak, and her soulwas too tired to carry it. She was only seventeen and she had been confined to this bed for the last one year, fighting for her life every single day.
I still remembered the day it all began. She had come home glowing, her eyes shining brighter than I had ever seen. She got first rank in school. That day she wouldn’t stop talking about medical college, about becoming a doctor, about saving lives. Who knew she would end up needing a doctor for the rest of her own life?
That night, she collapsed. By morning, doctors told us her heart was too weak. She needed surgery, it was urgent, expensive, life-saving. And yet, till this day, she lay here, battling silently while time and money worked against us. Every day felt like borrowed time. Pa said Kirti could live like a normal person if I managed to arrange six lakh rupees.
Six lakh.
For him, it was just a number but for me, it was my entire existence. He promised that if I brought the money, we could be a happy family again. That Kirti would walk, laugh, and dream. I believed him. I worked day and night, sold my time, my dreams, and my dignity. But every time I arranged something, they demanded more. More money, more sacrifice, until finally, they found the perfect solution.
Trap Saurav Chauhan.
They wanted to marry me off so they could squeeze as much money as they wanted. And I knew it, deep in my bones that even if I handed them six lakh rupees today, they would nevertruly cure my sister. Kirti was just an excuse and money was the goal.
My stepbrother was a drunkard and a gambler. He buried us under debts that were never mine, and yet I paid every single one. All the money I earned vanished into clearing his mess. And still, it was never enough.
I took care of everything: house, groceries, clothes, hospital bills and Kirti but still it was not enough for them. It would never be enough for them. They were so greedy that even if I died, they’d sell my body parts just to make money.
I looked at Kirti as she looked exactly like Ma. She had the same soft features. Ma died when I was ten. Kirti was only three back then. Not long after, Pa married another woman, one who fit the role of a stepmother a little too perfectly. She always had cruel words and carried colder silences. Then it was Nitin, our stepbrother, he was spoiled, reckless, and careless.
Two years ago, my stepmother died, leaving all of them behind. And the burden? It all fell on me. I became the parent, provider and shield. I became everything so Kirti could survive.
I carefully ran my fingers through Kirti’s hair, afraid even my touch might hurt her. Then I froze when her eyelids fluttered. Slowly, painfully, she opened her eyes and stared straight at me.
“You’re back from your practice?” she mumbled, her voice weak, breath shallow.
I nodded quickly.
“How is it going?” she asked.
“It’s… going good,” I said, forcing a smile, feeling a stone settle deep in my chest. Practice. The word burned. I left it. I left dance so I could earn money for her surgery. My dream had shrunk into one single wish: seeing Kirti live a normal life. Nothing else mattered. Not my passion. Not my future.
Maybe I would chase my dreams in another life. In this one, I only wanted my sister to live.
“Only good?” she asked softly, studying my face the way only she could. “Aren’t you going to dance on stage this year?” My throat tightened. “You promised me,” she continued, a small smile playing on her lips. “You said you would.”