On the other side of the city, the wedding rituals were proceeding, yet Karan stood stiff, fists clenched, mind in turmoil. He couldn't shake off the suffocating rage burning inside him. Every fiber of his being screamed that this marriage shouldn't be happening. He believed that Preeta had betrayed him in the worst way possible. Shristi, on the other hand, had been restless, trying to find Preeta but Karan was far from reason, consumed by the fire of anger and heartbreak.
Then suddenly......he felt it.
A sharp, inexplicable pain clenched around his chest, stealing his breath. His heart pounded wildly, as if warning him of something devastating. A shiver ran down his spine, his hands trembled, and......before he even understood why.........tears burned in his eyes. He loosened the buttons of his coat, gasping for air, but it felt scarce, like the world itself was closing in on him.
Something was wrong.
Something was terribly wrong.
The bride and groom stood for the wedding rounds, only three rounds were done, when out of nowhere, Kritika's piercing scream shattered the air.
"Karan Bhai!!!"
Her voice was raw, desperate, fear laced into every syllable. She pushed past the guests, running straight towards him. The entire wedding hall fell silent, all heads turning toward her.
"Kritika, why are you shouting?! Act properly!" Karina scolded, glaring at her, but Karan barely registered her words.
Karan turned, his irritation vanishing when he saw Kritika's face......ashen, her terrified eyes brimming with tears. Her hands shook violently, and her entire body was trembling like a fragile leaf caught in a storm. Something in Karan's chest twisted painfully.
He held her shoulders. "Kritika? What happened?" His voice wavered. Rishab, who had been watching the scene from the mandap, quickly stepped forward, removing the knot between him and Sherlyn, concern etching his face. "Kritika, what's wrong?"
Kritika's lips quivered, her body sagging against Karan as she clutched his hands in a death grip.
"Brother... P-Preeta..." Her voice cracked, and Karan felt a sudden chill creep into his bones.
His stomach dropped.
"What about Preeta?" Karan's voice was barely audible. Shristi, who had been standing in the back, suddenly stepped forward as well.
"She... she has been shot," Kritika whispered, her voice barely a breath.
The world around Karan blurred. His ears rang, drowning out the collective gasps of horror around him. "Shot?" His voice came out hollow, empty... like he hadn't fully processed what was being said. How could that be? Was this another trick? A cruel scheme? Was she trying to play on his sympathy? His thoughts swirled in chaos, his world turning colorless.
Kritika sobbed. "The hospital issued a critical notice for blood donation... I just saw it on social media. She was taken to the hospital where she works. Her colleagues... they put up her name and picture...." she choked on her words. "I-I couldn't believe it, but... but... Brother, she's dying."
The words slammed into Karan like a brutal wave, knocking the air from his lungs. For a moment, everything around him ceased to exist. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his body frozen in sheer terror.
She's dying.
Preeta is dying.
The thought sent ice-cold fear slicing through his veins. His knees nearly buckled, and he gripped Kritika's arms to keep himself from collapsing. His breaths came out ragged, shallow, each one sharper than a knife. Shristi had already crumbled onto her knees, trembling. Sameer knelt beside her, his hands gripping her shoulders in silent support. But she wasn't listening. She couldn't.
