Rudra drove in silence, his hands steady on the wheel. Outside, the world was a blur of streaking headlights and shifting shadows, but inside the car, everything felt painfully still—like a fragile glass sphere.
Siya sat beside him, her dupatta slipping loosely over her shoulders. Her fingers twisted together in her lap, restless and unsteady. The soft hum of the engine was the only sound between them, until Rudra turned onto the narrow lane that led to her parents' mansion.
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