Avni sat rigidly on the hard chair outside the operation room, her palms pressed together so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. The fluorescent lights above flickered faintly, casting a cold glow over the sterile hospital corridor. Her heart was still racing, her mind replaying the moment that had brought her here.

Flashback

The children had already scattered when they saw the blood. A silencer gun had been used, and the echo of the shot still seemed to linger in her ears. She was completely alone now.

I should call an ambulance, Avni thought.

But just as she was about to move, a faint tug on her hand stopped her.

She looked down and froze. Rudrnash was holding her hand-both their palms sticky with blood, rain washing it away in thin, trembling rivulets. The world around them seemed to blur, the storm fading into a quiet stillness that left only the fragile connection between them.

Her eyes locked with his, half-closed and glazed with pain. Each heartbeat sounded like a drum in her ears, matching the thundering of her own pulse.

He tried to speak. A rasping, barely audible whisper escaped his lips.

Avni leaned closer, straining to hear.

"Pastel girl..." he murmured, his voice fading as he finally slipped into unconsciousness. His hand slipped from hers.

Avni froze, her chest tightening. Is he dead? Her eyes widened in panic. She leaned closer, checking his chest, feeling the slow, uneven beat of his heart. He was alive-but barely.

At this rate... he won't make it, her mind screamed.

Without wasting another second, Avni scrambled to her scooter. Her fingers shook violently as she dialed 101, praying someone would pick up quickly.

The line connected on the first ring. A wave of relief rushed through her.

Cutting the call, she rushed back to him, her dupatta already in her hands. She pressed it firmly against the wound near his heart. She had been told not to press bullet wound too hard-but the bleeding was relentless, far too much for hesitation.

Her chest tightened as she looked at his unconscious face, pale and lifeless under the stormy sky. His lips were parted, his breath shallow.

Hold on she whispered in her mind, a silent plea wrapped in desperation.

End of Flashback

The light above the operation theater glowed an unrelenting red. Avni stared at it until her eyes burned, until the color seemed etched into her vision. It had been more than an hour already. The silence in the corridor pressed against her ears, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant shuffle of hurried footsteps. Her legs refused to rest, so she got up from the hard metal chair and paced, back and forth, her sandals clicking softly against the tiled floor.

Her mind replayed the incident again and again. The bullet had passed so close to her ear that she still felt its whistle, a phantom rush of air that made her shiver. She should have been thinking about herself-how narrowly she had escaped, how fragile her life suddenly seemed. But she wasn't. Her thoughts were fixed entirely on the man fighting for his life inside that room. A stranger. Someone whose name she didn't even know.

Just then, the door creaked open and a doctor stepped out. His gloves were stained, his face drawn with fatigue, his eyes grim.

"How is he?" Avni blurted out, her voice more desperate than she intended.

The doctor barely shook his head. "Can't say anything. He has lost too much blood. Excuse me." His words were clipped, rushed, as he moved past her, probably to arrange more units of blood.

Avni's heart sank. She sank back onto the chair.

She looked at the glowing red light again. What did you do, to get shot in the middle of the day? The question lived only in her mind, but it echoed like a whisper she couldn't ignore.

The doctor returned a few minutes later, his urgency sharper now. "Did you call his family?" he asked, his tone firm but not unkind.

Avni blinked, guilt washing over her. In all the chaos, she had completely forgotten.

"No... I-" Her voice faltered.

"Do call them." The doctor didn't wait for her reply. He turned and hurried back inside.

Avni lowered her gaze to her lap, heat rushing to her cheeks. She had his phone.

How do I call? she thought, staring helplessly at the locked phone in her hand. She had grabbed it when she saved him, but now it was useless-the pattern lock wouldn't let her in.

Her eyes flickered toward the operation room where the red light still glowed, unyielding, cold. I should call Abhimanyu, she decided suddenly, her mind racing.

She recalled-I saw this man at Khushi's wedding... yes, he was talking with Abhimanyu. Then Abhimanyu must know him.

Without wasting another second, she pulled out her own phone and dialed Abhimanyu's number.

"Abhimanyu, utha lo..." she whispered desperately, listening to the endless ringing echoing in her ear. No answer. Her chest tightened.

She tried Khushi next, hoping she might be with him, or at least pass the message on. But the call went unanswered too.

She cut the call in frustration. A sigh escaped her lips-half exhaustion, half despair.

Just then, the doors of the operation theater swung open, and the doctor stepped out, his gloves still stained faintly with blood.

"Did you make the call? We need to take immediate action-we need the family's consent," he said, his tone brisk but edged with urgency.

The phone felt heavy in Avni's hands. Her palms were damp, her throat dry.

"Gosh... Bhagwan ji, help me," she whispered under her breath, clutching the phone like it might slip away if she loosened her grip. The lock screen blinked at her, mocking her helplessness with its endless little dots. A simple pattern was all that stood between her and the lifeline she needed.

She began trying to guess the lock-what a worst situation for this nonsense.

***

More than ten minutes had passed. She had tried so many combinations already-straight lines, diagonals, circles, zig-zags-that the phone had begun punishing her failures. First thirty seconds, now a full minute. Each time, the countdown ticked like a cruel reminder that she was wasting precious time. Every beep from the monitors inside the operation theater made her heart skip, every faint sound of surgical tools clinking carried the weight of life and death.

Fifty-nine seconds... fifty-eight...

Avni's eyes stayed glued to the screen, as though sheer willpower could make the seconds hurry. Her nails dug into her palms. In another corner of the hospital, she imagined Abhimanyu and Khushi, the two strangers who had helped her bring him here, pacing with the same helplessness, maybe even praying. Everyone was hoping against hope.

Her chest tightened. The timer finally reset, the grid of nine dots lighting up again like a challenge thrown at her. Avni sucked in a sharp breath, closed her eyes for a second, and whispered again, "Please God... let this be the one. Let me get through... please."

Her finger trembled as it touched the first dot. She dragged slowly, carefully, through the pattern she had pictured in her mind, tracing it like a fragile prayer. Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it in her ears. Every second felt like walking a thin rope suspended over darkness.

And then-

The phone unlocked.

Avni froze, staring at the screen. For a moment, she couldn't even believe it. She blinked once, twice, her brows furrowing in disbelief. "Is this for real?" she murmured, her lips parting in astonishment.

Before her thoughts could spiral, a voice startled her. "Did you call the doctor?" one of the nurses peeked in, her voice hushed but urgent.

Avni jerked her head up. "Calling!" she said quickly, though her voice cracked under the pressure.

Her fingers shook as she fumbled with the phone, navigating to the call history. Right at the top, one name stared back at her: Mom. Avni didn't think twice. She hit dial, praying silently that someone would pick up.

The line rang once, twice, and then a voice answered, heavy with concern. "Hello? Rudrnash? Where are you? We are-why did you leave Laksh too? Where are you, beta?" His mother's voice poured through the speaker, a mixture of relief and irritation, unaware of the storm waiting on the other side.

Avni swallowed hard. Her lips parted, but for a second, no words came out. She almost couldn't bring herself to speak. Then, gathering courage, she whispered, "Aunty ji..."

Silence fell on the other end. A cold, heavy silence.

"Who?" the woman demanded, suspicion lacing her voice.

Avni gripped the phone tighter, her pulse racing. "Your... your son is in the hospital. He... he is in critical condition," she blurted out in a single breath, guilt wrapping around her chest. Her eyes burned as she realized how cruel it was, telling a mother such a thing. What kind of messenger had she become?

The woman gasped audibly. "What? Where? What happened to him?" Panic cracked her voice, turning it sharp and desperate.

"Give it to me," a firm voice interrupted from beside Avni.

She turned, startled, and saw the doctor who had just come out of the operation theater. His gloves were still on, smudged faintly with blood, his mask pulled down around his neck. His eyes were tired but steady.

Avni wordlessly handed him the phone.

The doctor spoke quickly, explaining the situation to Rudrnash's mother. He spoke in clipped, professional tones-words like "blood loss," "critical," and "consent" echoed in Avni's ears, making her stomach twist. He asked for immediate permission for a procedure, and though Avni couldn't hear every detail.

Finally, he hung up and handed the phone back to her, nodding briefly before striding away again, disappearing behind the red-lit doors of the theater.

Avni stared at the phone in her hand. The call was still connected. She lifted it back to her ear.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was raw now, stripped of authority, heavy with fear.

"ji, aunty ji..." Avni said softly .

"Stay there until we come. Please," the lady said, and then the line went dead.

The silence that followed pressed against Avni's ears. She lowered the phone, staring at the black screen as if it might still hold answers. Slowly, her hands dropped into her lap. Her body slumped against the wall, her head falling back against the cold plaster.

She lifted his phone and stared at the locked screen, her thoughts swirling.

The lock pattern was 'P' . She guessed from him mentioning 'Pastel Girl' earlier."

Thinking that when he mentioned 'Pastel Girl,' he must have been thinking of someone close to him.

"Pastel girl... who are you?" she wondered silently.

"I should have called her too... he must really care about her," she thought.

she unlocked the phone.

"Sorry, for going through your phone... but maybe you need her, right? Otherwise, why would you even mention her name in that moment?" she reasoned, her gaze flicking toward the locked operation room door.

She scrolled through his call history and contact list, searching for anyone saved as "Pastel girl."

Her brows furrowed as she found no contact under that name.

Her fingers froze mid-scroll, and her mind whispered, "He must have called me that while holding my hand."

"Does he?" Avni asked herself.

She glanced down at her dress. I'm not even wearing pastel colors, she thought, confused .

Before her mind could wander further, she heard a familiar voice calling out:

"Rudransh!"

Avni looked up and saw a family approaching the emergency room. Her eyes caught the woman's face on the screen-she guessed it must be his mother.

"How is he?" Devika asked as she neared Avni, her voice tight with worry.

Avni bit her lip, unsure of what to say. He's almost dying... she thought, but she only managed a steady voice:

"He'll be fine," she said, forcing a calm she didn't feel.

The woman stepped forward and wrapped Avni in a warm, grateful hug. Avni froze for a moment, startled by the sudden closeness.

"Thank you for helping him... for bringing him to the hospital," Devika murmured softly.

Avni gently pulled back, shaking her head. "Don't thank me," she said quietly.

At that moment, the heavy door of the emergency room swung open.

"How is he, doctor?" Devika called again, her anxiety clear.

Avni glanced toward the bustling scene, realizing it was time to leave.

I should take my leave now... his family is here, she thought, quietly stepping back.

She started to walk away, the sounds of hurried voices, medical monitors, and urgent conversations filling the air behind her. The family now spoke directly to the doctor.

Before she fully stepped out, she turned for one last glance at the operation room.

" I have to go. It's late, and Mom and Dad must be worried. Don't die, Mr. Handsome... it would be such a waste of beauty," she whispered under her breath.

Before she could say anything more, her phone rang. It was her dad.

Picking up the call, Avni made her way toward the hospital exit.

" Dad, I'm coming," she said quickly, her voice tight with urgency, and hurried out into the night, her footsteps echoing against the empty streets.

---

By the time Avni reached home, night had already fallen. The house was quiet, the soft glow of the lamps casting gentle shadows across the walls.

She sank into a chair and told her parents everything that had happened.

Though the danger seemed to have passed, worry still gnawed at her. For some reason, she wished she could stay at the hospital a little longer-she didn't know why.

Her father placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You did your part. Don't worry. He will recover," he said softly, his voice steady and comforting.

Avni nodded, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

"I should change," she murmured, standing up.

"Go" her father said with a gentle smile.

As she went to her room, she couldn't shake the lingering image of Rudransh lying there, and the strange pull she felt toward him.

***

As Avni changed into her night suit, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The events of the day replayed vividly in her mind-the chaos, the fear, the sight of him lying there, fighting for his life.

Her thoughts refused to leave him.

She sat on her bed, hugging her knees, her gaze distant.

I remember him... I saw him at Khushi's wedding. We collided... A small smile curved her lips at the memory. It was like a scene from a TV serial-flowers falling around us... she thought, letting herself get lost in the moment.

But the smile faded quickly. Nothing about me is like those TV female leads. What a waste of a moment, she sighed, exhaling slowly.

She leaned her head against the headboard, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I hope he'll be fine... I don't even know what he was doing there, and who shoot in broad daylight?" Her mind raced with questions, but no answers came.

A gentle voice pulled her back to the present.

"Avni," her mother called softly.

Avni looked toward the door.

"Avni, come eat something," her mother said, entering the room.

"I'm not hungry, Mom," she replied, sitting up straighter.

Her mother sat beside her on the bed and placed a comforting hand over hers. "He'll be fine, Avni," she said with quiet confidence.

Avni nodded, but her thoughts remained restless. I'll only know for sure by checking tomorrow... she thought.

Yeah... maybe... or say definitely... I was thinking of checking. I don't know why. I don't even know him, but somehow... if he dies, I don't think I'd like it, she admitted silently, a strange, heavy feeling settling in her chest.

She hugged her knees tighter, the room quiet except for the faint hum of the night outside. Despite the darkness, a flicker of concern-and something she couldn't quite name-kept her awake, replaying his image in her mind.

The night seemed quieter than usual, almost holding its breath, as if waiting for what would come next.