Her Only Saviour

97. Irony of support

𝕸𝖚𝖏𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖕𝖓𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖕𝖊,
𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖉𝖎 𝖘𝖎 𝖏𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖍 𝖉𝖊 𝖉𝖔

𝕸𝖚𝖏𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖓𝖆 𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖐𝖎,
𝕶𝖔𝖎 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖏𝖆𝖍 𝖉𝖊 𝖉𝖔....

~~~~~

Then, softly, Dadi asked from where she sat, her voice brittle with age and sorrow, “And… Raha? What about her?”

She didn’t say the rest, but she didn’t need to.

Nandini’s expression didn’t falter. She turned to her with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, Dadi. I remember Raha.”

She paused, as if giving the name a moment to echo in the silence, then continued, “Well… that’s a different story altogether. She thought she could have what’s already mine. She thought she could replace me. Challenge me. Play her sweet little games around my husband.”

She looked around the room, her tone as serene as a lullaby, yet the weight behind it pressed like iron against every chest.

“And I…” She smiled again—graceful, eerie, unshaken.
“…I’m territorial.”

A longer pause. She let her words sink in, burn their way into every conscience seated around her.

“So I respectfully killed her.”

The finality in her voice was haunting.

Shock morphed into quiet devastation across the Oberoi family. Gauri covered her mouth, kaamini took a step back, Dadu looked away, his eyes wet.
Even the walls seemed to absorb the cold confession, holding it deep in their cracks.

And Anirudh? Still unmoving. Still silent.

Only watching.

As if the man he had once loved, protected, and stayed back for was now a ghost in front of him—one he couldn’t decide whether to grieve, fear, or forgive.

"Everything that happened over the past few months was entirely my doing — and I have no regrets. If you all want me to leave this house…” Nandini’s voice finally broke through the heavy silence, low but unwavering.

“I can go. I know I’ve done things none of you can accept… and I won’t fight it. I have nothing left in my control now. I won’t argue, I won’t beg. If you all want to throw me out of here… or even file a case against me, I’ll understand. I’ll take it… happily.”

Her voice trembled only slightly toward the end, the weight of her truth finally settling like dust after a storm.
She stood still, her posture proud yet fragile, her hands clasped as if bracing herself for rejection.

But before anyone could respond, a firm voice cut through the tension—one she hadn’t heard in that tone since they were kids.

“No, baacha.”

Rajvir stepped forward, his eyes burning—not with disappointment or shock, but fierce protectiveness. His jaw clenched, nostrils flared, as if challenging the world to speak against his sister.

He moved toward her without hesitation and took her hand firmly in his.

“Nothing will happen to you,” he said with raw emotion. “You did nothing wrong. You did what no one else had the courage to do. And you… you’re coming with me.”

Nandini’s eyes glistened, her lips parting, but before she could respond—another voice echoed in the grand hall.

“I don’t know about everyone else,” Anika said, stepping forward with her chin held high and her eyes filled with pride, “but I’m proud of you, Nandini. You made me believe in women power again. You showed me what it means to take a stand when the world is against you.”