The illegitimate daughter of a powerful businessman, she was sent to live with her six half-brothers after her father's sudden death.
The boys were born from privilege, pride, and perfectly manicured bloodlines. No one welcomed her. No one cared.
De...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She drifted into sleep as Shaurya Bhai gave her the medicine.
She is fine. I kept repeating it in my head, like a chant, forcing my heart to believe it.
Looking around, I realized none of us were in better condition. We all looked like we had aged ten years in one night.
"She is fine, right?" Atharyu Bhai asked Shaurya Bhai, his voice heavy with emotions.
Shaurya Bhai looked at her once more, then at Atharyu Bhai. "Yes. But she needs proper rest."
We all nodded. "Don't crowd around her. All of you should leave for your respective work. I'll stay here." With that, he settled back into the chair he had been occupying since last night.
"But Bhai," Aarav spoke up carefully, "you have a meeting in one hour. And you've already rescheduled it once. Postponing it again won't look good."
This is your time, Kabeer. Save the day.
"Me and Aarav will stay here," I said immediately. "You all can go. Like Bhai said, no need to crowd the room."
I looked at Atharyu Bhai with my most hopeful expression—the one I usually reserve for asking permission to buy something expensive.
After a few arguments, a few instructions, and a few Bhai-level warnings, they finally agreed.
Aarav and I would stay.
I smiled as I looked at my little baby sister sleeping peacefully. Who knows what version of her would wake up next?
She's dangerously unpredictable. Who knows, she'll wake up all sweet and soft, blinking innocently like a Disney princess. Or a full-blown psycho, ready to verbally assassinate us.
As the others left, a thought struck me.
I looked at Aarav. "You stay here. I'm going to my room. I have something important to do."
Aarav stiffened immediately. The idea of leaving them alone clearly terrified him.
"Can't you do it later, Bhai?"
I shook my head. "No. It needs to be done now. I'll talk to you later about whatever is going on in your head."
Before he could argue more, I dashed to my room.
The moment I opened the door, I froze.
Yep, I entered a disaster zone.
Clothes were scattered all over the bed, on the chair, and on the floor. lyric sheets, empty coffee mugs, snack wrappers, and what not?
My study table was the worst.
Glitter. Glue. Coloured papers. Stickers. Sketch pens without caps.
Right in the middle sat the reason for this artistic massacre—a half-made glittery scrapbook for Maheer.
I picked up clothes and threw them into the cupboard without folding. My growth is slow, okay? I shoved papers into drawers, wiped the table, and unexpectedly, I sneezed, and the glitter multiplied.
