Okayyyy people, I know you're all curious. So, let's get into the story. Let's talk in the end!
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Three Weeks Earlier
The streets of Mumbai blurred past as Tara sat in the back seat of her car, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. The city's usual chaos-the honking horns, bustling crowds, and flashes of bright billboards-faded into the background as a deeper sense of unease settled over her. Something wasn't right, and she knew it.
For weeks, she had brushed off the dizziness, the small slips of memory, and the odd tremors in her hands. Busy people made mistakes, after all. It was natural to forget the occasional meeting or feel lightheaded after long workdays. But this... this felt different. More ominous.
She had booked an appointment with the most discreet hospital in Mumbai, a place known for its high-profile clientele and secure records. She wanted to be sure, that nothing was wrong.
She couldn't afford to let the world know she was undergoing medical tests. If word got out that Tara Raichand was seeking treatment, the rumor mill would explode, and her company would face an avalanche of speculation. She had a responsibility to keep things together-for her business, for Veer, and for herself.
As the car pulled up in front of the hospital, Tara's heart skipped a beat. The sleek glass exterior of the building seemed to reflect her own calm, poised appearance-an illusion. Inside, she was unraveling.
The hospital's private entrance was quiet, the lobby serene in a way that felt almost unnerving. She checked in with reception, keeping her head down, avoiding eye contact. Within minutes, she was led into the consultation room where she would undergo a series of tests. Every step felt heavier, as if her body already knew what her mind refused to acknowledge.
Hours later, Tara sat in the doctor's office, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her handbag. She had gone through the MRI, blood tests, and neurological exams. Now, as she waited for the results, a cold knot of fear twisted in her stomach. She had always been in control, but now, sitting in the sterile silence of the doctor's cabin, she felt utterly powerless.
The doctor entered, a middle-aged man with kind but serious eyes, holding a file that contained the answers she both dreaded and needed.
"Mrs. Raichand," he began, offering her a small, professional smile. "Thank you for your patience. We've received the results of your tests."
Tara swallowed hard, nodding as if she could somehow steel herself for what was coming. But nothing could prepare her for the words that followed.
"You've been experiencing some concerning symptoms, and after running the necessary tests, we've found the cause. You have a brain tumor."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Tara blinked, her mind struggling to process what she had just heard. A brain tumor? It felt unreal, like the doctor had spoken the diagnosis to someone else, not to her.
