The rain had become heavier.
What had started as an inconvenient monsoon shower had now turned into a curtain of water so thick that the world outside the bus seemed almost unreal.
Prisha rested her forehead against the window.
She couldn't see much beyond the glass.
Only blurred headlights.
Water.
Occasional flashes of lightning.
And the red glow of brake lights stretching endlessly along the highway.
Behind her, a few students had started complaining about the delay.
"Are we seriously going to sit here for another hour?"
"We've already been stuck here forever."
"I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry."
"Because I have basic human needs."
Prisha smiled faintly at their argument.
She turned toward the seat beside her.
Avir was still working.
Of course.
The man had spent nearly an hour on a college bus and somehow managed to turn it into an office.
His laptop was open.
His expression was unreadable.
His sleeves were rolled slightly up his forearms, and every few seconds his fingers moved across the keyboard.
Prisha looked at him.
"You know, you could take a break."
His eyes remained on the screen.
"I'm working."
"I noticed."
Silence.
She looked outside again.
"You're going to miss the entire trip."
"I wasn't supposed to be on the trip."
"That explains the personality."
His fingers stopped.
Slowly, he looked at her.
Prisha immediately realized what she'd said.
She bit back a smile.
"I meant—"
"I understood."
"You looked offended."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
"I wasn't."
She smiled.
"Okay."
He returned to his laptop.
A few seconds later, she noticed the smallest movement at the corner of his mouth.
She smiled to herself.
Maybe he wasn't as scary as everyone thought.
Then—
A scream came from the front of the bus.
"LOOK OUT!"
Everyone turned.
A vehicle came rushing through the rain.
Too fast.
Far too fast.
The black car seemed almost out of control.
Its tires lost grip on the flooded road.
For one terrifying second, it swerved toward the bus.
The driver slammed on the brakes.
The car spun.
CRASH.
The sound tore through the rain.
Metal collided with concrete.
Glass shattered.
The car slammed into the divider and stopped at an angle, half-submerged in the floodwater.
For a second—
nobody moved.
Then everyone started shouting.
"Someone's inside!"
"Call the police!"
"Call an ambulance!"
"Sir!"
The professor rushed toward the front.
"Everyone stay here!"
But before he could finish—
Avir was already standing.
Prisha was right behind him.
"Don't go!" the professor shouted.
Neither stopped.
They ran into the rain.
The water came almost to their ankles.
Prisha's sandals slipped against the wet road.
"Careful!" Avir caught her arm before she fell.
She steadied herself.
"I'm fine."
They reached the car.
The front windshield was shattered.
The driver's side was crushed badly.
A man was behind the wheel.
His head had struck something.
Blood ran down the side of his face.
His eyes were closed.
"Sir?"
Avir pulled at the driver's door.
It wouldn't move.
"It's jammed."
Prisha moved toward the passenger side.
Then she froze.
"Avir."
He looked at her.
Her voice had changed.
"There is a baby."
He immediately moved toward her.
Through the broken window, they could see a tiny bundle lying against the back seat.
A baby.
A very small baby.
Perhaps only a few weeks old.
She wasn't crying.
That frightened Prisha more than anything.
"Oh God."
She tried the door.
Locked.
"Avir, we need to get her out."
He looked around.
A group of students was now running toward them.
"Move back," he said.
He grabbed the edge of the damaged door.
The metal groaned.
He pulled harder.
Nothing.
Again.
His jaw tightened.
"Move."
Another pull.
The door finally gave way enough for him to reach inside.
Prisha climbed in immediately.
"Wait—"
"I have her."
She reached for the baby.
The little girl moved weakly.
A tiny sound escaped her.
Prisha's heart clenched.
"She's alive."
Avir carefully lifted her from the seat.
The baby was so small.
Too small.
Her tiny face was damp, her little hands trembling.
Prisha immediately removed her dupatta and wrapped it around her.
"She's cold."
Avir held the baby close to his chest.
Something about the weight of her in his arms made him go completely still.
He had held important documents.
Business deals worth millions.
People had trusted him with companies, properties, secrets.
But this—
this tiny life—
felt different.
Prisha looked toward the front.
"What about the parents?"
The driver groaned.
His fingers moved.
"Sir?"
Avir immediately turned.
The man's eyes opened.
Barely.
His breathing was shallow.
He looked at Avir.
And something changed in his expression.
Recognition.
His blood-covered eyes widened.
"You..."
Avir frowned.
"Can you hear me?"
The man swallowed painfully.
"You're... Avir Suryavanshi."
Avir paused.
"Yes."
The man looked at the baby.
Then back at him.
A strange relief crossed his face.
As if he had finally found the person he'd been searching for.
"You... you gave your word..."
Avir leaned closer.
"What?"
The man's lips trembled.
"Your word..."
"I don't understand."
"You're a man of your word."
His voice was barely audible.
Prisha looked at Avir.
The man in the driver's seat coughed.
Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Avir's expression hardened.
"Don't speak. Help is coming."
"No."
The man gripped Avir's wrist.
His strength was surprisingly firm for someone who could barely remain conscious.
"Listen to me."
Avir looked at him.
The man's eyes moved toward the baby.
"My daughter."
Avir's eyes dropped to the little girl in his arms.
"She's yours?"
The man nodded.
Tears mixed with rain and blood on his face.
"She... is all I have."
Prisha's heart broke.
She looked toward the woman in the passenger seat.
She wasn't moving.
"Her mother—"
The man closed his eyes for a second.
When he opened them again, something in them had changed.
Acceptance.
Not of his own death.
Of what he had to do before it came.
"She's gone."
Prisha's breath caught.
She looked away.
The man's hand shook.
"Take her."
Avir stared at him.
"What?"
"Take my daughter."
"No."
Avir's answer was immediate.
"You need medical attention."
"I don't have time."
"You do."
"I don't."
The man's eyes filled with desperation.
"Please."
The word was barely a whisper.
Avir had heard powerful men beg before.
People who had millions behind them.
People who had lawyers, influence, entire companies.
But this man wasn't begging for money.
He wasn't begging for his life.
He was begging for his daughter.
The man looked at Prisha.
For a moment, he studied her face.
Young.
Gentle.
Terrified.
But standing there despite everything.
He looked back at Avir.
Then at her.
He misunderstood the relationship between them.
Perhaps he thought they were married.
Perhaps he simply needed to believe that the two people standing in front of him were together.
A family.
Someone his daughter could belong to.
His eyes softened.
"Your wife..."
Prisha's eyes widened.
"What?"
The man struggled to breathe.
"Please..."
Avir opened his mouth.
But the man continued.
"Don't let them find her."
"Who?"
"The Raichands."
Avir's expression changed.
The name meant something.
He knew the Raichands.
Everyone in the business world did.
A powerful family.
And a complicated one.
The man tightened his grip on Avir's wrist.
"Listen carefully."
His breathing became more labored.
"If they know she exists..."
He stopped.
His eyes moved toward the baby.
"They will kill her."
Prisha instinctively moved closer.
"Why?"
"Money."
His voice cracked.
"They want everything."
He coughed violently.
Avir caught his shoulder.
"Don't speak."
But the man shook his head.
"No."
His eyes were desperate now.
"I need you to understand."
Avir stared at him.
"Who are you?"
The man looked at him.
"Arhaan."
A pause.
"Arhaan Raichand."
Prisha's eyes widened.
Avir went completely still.
The man continued.
"They cannot know."
Avir looked at the baby.
"Does your family know about her?"
Arhaan shook his head.
"Not all of them."
His voice became weaker.
"I hid her."
"From whom?"
"Everyone."
Prisha stared at him.
"How old is she?"
"Thirty-two days."
Prisha's eyes filled instantly.
Thirty-two days.
A month.
A tiny child who had barely entered the world.
And already—
someone wanted her dead.
Arhaan looked at Prisha.
His eyes pleaded with her now.
"Please."
Prisha shook her head.
"Mr. Raichand, we need to get you to a hospital."
"Please listen."
His voice cracked.
"If I die..."
Prisha swallowed.
"Don't say that."
"If I die, she has nobody."
He looked at the baby.
"She doesn't even know what fear is yet."
His voice trembled.
"She is too small to be afraid of the world."
Prisha couldn't stop her tears.
Arhaan looked directly at her.
"Please let her stay that way."
Prisha shook her head helplessly.
"I don't know what you want us to do."
"Raise her."
Silence.
The rain continued to hammer against the road.
Even the sounds around them seemed distant.
Avir stared at him.
"You don't know us."
"I know him."
Arhaan looked at Avir.
"I know what kind of man you are."
Avir said nothing.
"I've watched you in business."
Arhaan's breathing became weaker.
"You don't break your word."
He looked at Prisha.
"And you..."
He swallowed.
"I don't know your name."
"Prisha."
A faint smile appeared.
"Prisha."
He repeated it as though memorizing it.
"Please love her."
Prisha's lips trembled.
"Like she's your own."
She looked at the baby.
Her tiny fingers were curled into the fabric of her dupatta.
Prisha reached out and gently touched her cheek.
"She doesn't know anything."
Arhaan's eyes filled.
"I know."
"She doesn't know why she's here."
"I know."
"She doesn't know who you are."
"I know."
"Then how can you ask us to—"
"Because I have no one else."
That silenced her.
Arhaan looked at Avir.
"Be her shield."
Then he looked at Prisha.
"Be her home."
Prisha's tears fell.
Avir stared at him.
"Mr. Raichand—"
"Please."
Arhaan's hand trembled as he reached toward the baby.
For one second, his fingers touched her tiny cheek.
His entire face changed.
The businessman disappeared.
The powerful man disappeared.
There was only a father.
"My princess..."
His voice broke.
"I am sorry."
Prisha covered her mouth.
Arhaan looked at Avir one final time.
"If she ever asks about me..."
He struggled to breathe.
"Tell her I loved her."
Avir's jaw tightened.
"Tell her yourself."
Arhaan looked at him.
There was a strange sadness in his eyes.
"I wish I could."
Then—
a police siren pierced through the rain.
Arhaan's eyes widened.
"No."
Avir turned toward the road.
Red and blue lights were approaching through the rain.
"We need to stay here," Avir said.
"No!"
For the first time, Arhaan's voice became loud.
He grabbed Avir's shirt.
"Take her and go."
Avir stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because they cannot find her."
"Who is coming?"
Arhaan's eyes filled with terror.
"I don't know who they have bought."
Prisha looked toward the approaching lights.
The police vehicle was getting closer.
Arhaan pushed the baby toward Avir.
"Go!"
Avir instinctively tightened his arms around her.
Arhaan grabbed his wrist.
"Listen to me."
Avir looked down at him.
"Never let the Raichands know she is alive."
Avir's expression hardened.
"Your own family?"
"Anyone related to them."
Arhaan's breathing became weaker.
"Especially them."
Another siren sounded.
Closer.
Arhaan looked at his daughter one final time.
"My princess..."
His voice became almost inaudible.
"Don't let anyone take her."
Avir stared at him.
Then at the baby.
Then toward the flashing lights.
Prisha stood beside him, frozen.
Avir made his decision.
"Come."
He grabbed Prisha's hand.
They turned.
They ran.
The rain swallowed their footsteps.
Behind them, the wrecked car disappeared into the darkness.
Inside Avir's arms, little Arosha began to cry.
For the first time in her life—
someone other than her father was holding her.
Avir looked down.
"It's okay."
His voice was quieter than Prisha had ever heard it.
"I'm here."
But neither of them saw the police vehicle stop beside the wreckage.
Neither saw the officer step out.
Neither saw him look inside the destroyed car.
And neither heard the phone call he made seconds later.
"Sir... we found the car."
A pause.
His eyes moved toward the road where Avir and Prisha had disappeared.
"But the baby isn't here."
Silence.
Then his expression changed.
Because the voice on the other end had asked only one question.
"Who took her?"
The officer looked into the rain.
And smiled.
"I'm finding out."
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