Book #1 of Bounded series
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Sign the papers! She said
I'm not into child marriage Miss Mishra! Shaadi karke mujhe jail bhejne ka irada hai? His tone dripped with sarcasm.
"Can't you be serious with me at least for once Avyan?!!"
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The mirror in front of me was already fogged up from the chaos I'd created in the room. Lipsticks were scattered like fallen soldiers, jewelry boxes were open with nothing in them, and the pile of unused bangles on my bed looked like a rainbow had exploded. And me? I was standing in the center of it all—half ready, fully panicked, and entirely dramatic.
"Maaa!" I yelled for the fifth time in the last two minutes. "Where is my other earring?! I kept it here—right here on this table! I swear on my Chocopies!"
Mom’s voice echoed from downstairs, laced with that same half-amused, half-exasperated tone she used when I was younger and couldn’t find my socks. "Maybe the earring ran away because it couldn’t handle your drama anymore! You’ve turned the whole room into a vegetable market, Aditi."
I let out a dramatic groan and flopped on the bed. "This is a disaster. A total disaster. Avyan and his family is going to come today at our place to ask my hand in marriage, and I’m going to look like a jewelry-less potato."
I got up again, scanning the dresser. My Sharara was perfect—white with golden embroidery—but without all the right accessories, it just didn’t feel me.
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"Maaa! Where is my waist chain? The one with the tiny bells? The one Avyan likes!" I shouted louder this time, genuinely distressed. That chain wasn’t just an accessory; it was my thing. And Avyan—well, he’d told me I looked like a goddess wearing it. And even if he didn’t say that every time, I caught him staring at it more than once.
"Aditi, for God’s sake! Do you have to scream like someone stole your dulha?" Ma’s voice was louder now. Then, grumbling, I heard her climb the stairs. The poor woman probably regretted having a daughter who believed a waist chain was the key to eternal happiness.
She appeared in the doorway, holding one end of her saree in her mouth, her hands full with jewelry. Her face was already set in that look—equal parts exhausted and loving.
"Here—your earring, your bracelet, your anklet. But that chain? I haven’t seen it since your last tantrum. You probably threw it somewhere when your choker didn’t match your mood."
