Marigold garlands hung in bright strands against pink stone. In the shade, a group of women sat weaving more flowers, their voices rising in wedding songs that had not changed in centuries.
The lyrics spoke of brides. Of waiting. Of first nights. Of whispered promises. Until yesterday, she would have blushed hearing them. Now every line felt far too personal.
Her eyes dropped as she moved past, seeking her room, seeking silence.
A car entered through the main gate. It rolled to a stop near the parking area.
Rajveer Singh Sisodia stepped out. Amar Singh followed. Both walked toward Abhinav’s office.
Warmth spread through Meera’s chest.
Of course. This would end today. Clean. Decisive. Anand Mahal would remain with the family it belonged to.
Relief rushed in so fast it left her lightheaded.
She could have turned away. Instead, she followed. Not close enough to draw attention. Just enough.
She wanted to hear him refuse.
The corridor stretched head. She moved quietly. She knew these paths. Which stones echoed. Which corners deepened enough to hide a person.
She had grown up inside these walls. She knew how to disappear within them.
Outside his office, she stopped. The door stood slightly open. Voices reached her through the gap. She pressed against the wall beside it, hidden.
“…the map confirms the boundaries,” Amar’s voice. “The valuation matches current market rates.”
Meera frowned.
That didn’t sound like refusal. Formalities first, perhaps.
“The contracts are ready,” Rajveer added. “We may proceed.”
Paper shifted. Pages turned.
Her breath slowed. She waited.
“The payment terms are acceptable.” Abhinav’s voice. Calm. Controlled.
The same voice that had brushed against her skin hours ago. The same voice that had confessed he did not know how to return to the man he had been before her. The same voice that had asked her to marry him.
I want all of us together.
The memory rose instantly.
I want your father to know everything he gave came back to his daughter.
And now… “Let’s finalize this.”
For one impossible second, her mind simply refused to understand the words.
Cold spread through the corridor so sharply it felt physical. The stone beneath her palm leeched warmth from her skin. Her thoughts scrambled desperately for another explanation that would make sense.
There had to be one.
There had to be.
A pen moved across paper. One signature. Another. Ink sealed the decision.