YOU NEVER WALK ALONE

69-Pari

I’m really sorry this chapter took so long.

I had exams, then a short trip with my cousins, and after that something happened that I won’t be discussing here. It was traumatizing, and it took me a few days to really come back from it. Thank you for your patience and understanding🧿🤍

(Panauti hu bhai, kuch nahi ho pata hai thik se😭🙏🏻)

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Inline comments would be appreciated.👉🏻👈🏻 Vo thode se purane dino jaise comments mil jate toh, bohot sare.....maza ajata 🥹toh kardo comments 😭🙏🏻

Happy reading 🤍

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AUTHOR'S POV-

Sarakshi's heart stopped.

Her heart stuttered, then stopped completely, as if someone had pressed a hand to her chest and frozen everything inside.

Her legs weakened under her, turning into nothing but trembling, useless weight. A cold rush spread through her veins...fear, disbelief, recognition, all twisting together so violently she felt light-headed.

She clutched the edge of the table, knuckles white, trying not to collapse as the world around her blurred into a distant hum. The laughter from the hallway. The chatter downstairs. Even Prachi's soft humming.

All of it faded.

Only the photograph existed.

Only that little girl.

Her vision wavered, and a shaky, broken sigh escaped her lips, the kind that comes when something deep, buried, and painful cracks open.

A single tear slid down her cheek.

Then another.

Her throat tightened so hard she couldn't swallow. Her palms grew cold and sweaty, trembling uncontrollably as she brought the photo closer to her face.

Her breath hitched....sharp, hollow.

"No... no... ye... kaise..." she whispered to no one, her voice shaking so violently it barely formed words. Her trembling fingers traced the jagged edge of the old photograph as if touching it would anchor her spinning world.

Rashvik, who had been laughing at something Rakshit said, froze mid-smile. His heart lurched painfully when he saw her expression—wide eyes, pale cheeks, trembling lips. In two long strides he reached her.

"Sarakshi? What happened?" he whispered urgently, cupping her cheeks.

She grabbed his hand with a desperate strength he had never felt from her. Her whole body shook with fear, shock, emotion—he couldn't tell, but it terrified him. A soft, broken sob slipped out before she could stop it. Her knees buckled; he caught her instantly, pulling her into his arms as her breath came in ragged bursts.

She barely heard him. A storm of recognition, painful and dizzying raged inside her, threatening to pull her under. She knew this face. Not from someone's words or a story. From inside her own blood.

Her chest constricted painfully. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lifted the photograph again, closer, her fingers trembling violently.

The little girl in the picture wasn't a stranger. She had seen her in faint flashes of memory, in blurred dreams, in the mirror every morning till day. She wasn't just emotional. She was shattering, quietly, helplessly as twenty one years of forgotten truth clawed their way back into her consciousness.