For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
The rain continued falling.
Hard.
Relentless.
But somehow, Prisha could hear only one thing.
The baby's cry.
A small, frightened sound against the roar of the storm.
Avir stood a few feet away from the wrecked car, Arosha held securely against his chest.
He looked down at her.
She was crying harder now.
Her tiny face had turned red, her little fists moving helplessly against the blanket.
Avir had no idea what to do.
He had handled negotiations worth hundreds of crores without losing his composure.
He had walked into rooms full of men twice his age and made them listen.
He had faced threats without blinking.
But a one-month-old baby crying in his arms?
That was different.
He looked at Prisha.
"What do we do?"
She stared at him.
For a moment, she almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the question sounded so strangely ordinary coming from him.
"I don't know."
Avir looked back at the baby.
"She won't stop."
"She just lost her parents."
His eyes lifted.
Prisha immediately regretted saying it.
Avir's jaw tightened.
"Her mother might still be alive."
Prisha looked toward the car.
She knew.
But she also knew what they had seen.
Blood.
Stillness.
And the way Arhaan had spoken.
"He said she was gone."
Avir didn't answer.
The police vehicle was getting closer.
Prisha looked toward it.
"What if they're just coming to help?"
"They probably are."
"Then why did he tell us to run?"
Avir remained silent.
That was the problem.
He didn't know.
And he hated not knowing.
The police vehicle stopped beside the wreckage.
Two officers stepped out.
The students from the bus had gathered at a distance.
The professor was shouting for everyone to stay together.
One of the officers looked toward Avir.
"Sir! Don't move!"
Avir stopped.
Prisha's heart started beating faster.
The officer hurried toward them.
"Where is the child?"
Avir looked down at the baby.
Then back at him.
"She was inside the car."
"I know."
The officer's eyes moved toward the wreckage.
"Who took her out?"
Avir didn't answer immediately.
Prisha looked at him.
The officer stepped closer.
"Sir, we need to take the baby."
Arosha began crying again.
Avir instinctively pulled her closer.
The movement was small.
Almost unconscious.
But the officer noticed.
"So you have her."
"Yes."
"Give her to me."
Prisha stepped forward.
"She's freezing."
The officer looked at her.
"We have an ambulance coming."
"Then let us take her to the ambulance."
"I said give her to me."
His tone had changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
Avir noticed.
His expression became colder.
"Who are you?"
The officer showed his identification.
"Inspector Patil."
Avir looked at the card.
Then at him.
"Where is the ambulance?"
"On its way."
"How long?"
"Few minutes."
Avir glanced toward the road.
There was no ambulance.
Only rain.
Inspector Patil extended his arms.
"Give me the baby."
Avir didn't move.
The officer's eyes hardened.
"Sir."
Avir's voice remained calm.
"I'll hand her over when the medical team arrives."
"That isn't your decision."
"It is while she's in my care."
Prisha looked at him.
There was something different about his voice now.
The calm from the bus was gone.
This was the man everyone had been afraid of.
Controlled.
Sharp.
Impossible to push around.
Inspector Patil stared at him.
"You're interfering with an accident investigation."
"No."
Avir looked toward the wrecked car.
"I'm protecting a child."
A long silence.
Then the officer's radio crackled.
"Sir?"
He turned away to answer.
Avir's eyes immediately met Prisha's.
"Get on the bus."
She stared at him.
"What?"
"Take the baby."
"What about you?"
"I'll come."
"Where?"
"The bus."
She looked at the police officer.
Then back at Avir.
"You think they're dangerous?"
"I don't know."
"Then why are we leaving?"
"Because I don't know."
Prisha frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does when someone's life is involved."
He handed Arosha carefully toward her.
Prisha hesitated.
The baby was so tiny.
She held her awkwardly at first.
Arosha's crying softened.
Prisha looked down.
"She's still crying."
"She's probably hungry."
"You know that?"
"No."
"Then why did you say it?"
"I had to say something."
Despite everything—
Prisha almost smiled.
Then she looked at him.
"What is your name?"
For the first time since they had met, he seemed slightly surprised.
"Why?"
"Because I've been sitting beside you for more than an hour, followed you into a crashed car, watched you argue with a police officer, and now you're asking me to take a stranger's baby onto a bus."
Avir stared at her.
She continued.
"I think I deserve at least your name."
A pause.
"Avir."
She repeated it quietly.
"Avir."
He looked at her.
"And you?"
She adjusted the baby in her arms.
"Prisha."
Something about the name stayed with him.
Prisha.
Simple.
Warm.
It suited her.
Before either could say anything else, the professor called from the bus.
"Prisha!"
She turned.
Avir looked toward the road.
"Go."
She nodded.
Then stopped.
"You're coming?"
"Yes."
"You promise?"
Avir looked at her.
The question caught him off guard.
Because promises were not words he used lightly.
"Yes."
Prisha nodded.
She ran toward the bus with Arosha.
Avir waited until she was safely inside.
Then he turned back toward the accident.
Arhaan was still alive.
Barely.
The ambulance had finally arrived.
Medical workers surrounded the vehicle.
Avir walked toward them.
One of the officers blocked his way.
"Sir, you need to stay back."
Avir looked at him.
"Is he alive?"
The officer hesitated.
"For now."
Avir looked toward the car.
Blood.
Broken glass.
Rain.
And a man who had handed his entire world to a stranger because he had no other choice.
Avir closed his eyes briefly.
He had promised.
He hadn't said the word aloud.
But he had promised.
Inside the bus, Prisha sat near the window.
Arosha was in her arms.
The professor stood beside her, confused.
"Prisha, what is going on?"
"I don't know."
"Where did you get the baby?"
"From the car."
"Yes, I know that."
He lowered his voice.
"But why is she with you?"
Prisha looked down at the baby.
She didn't know how to explain it.
A stranger had died.
His wife was dead.
His enemies wanted his daughter.
And somehow—
the child was now in her arms.
"I'll explain later."
The professor looked worried.
"Where is the man who was with you?"
"Avir?"
The professor looked at her.
"You know his name?"
"Now I do."
"And where is he?"
"He'll come."
The professor didn't look convinced.
Prisha looked out the window.
Avir was still standing near the accident.
She didn't know why she trusted him.
She barely knew him.
But something inside her believed him when he said:
I'll come.
Twenty minutes passed.
Then thirty.
The police began clearing the road.
The students grew restless.
Some were calling their parents.
Some were taking photographs.
The professor was trying to get everyone to remain calm.
Prisha didn't hear any of it.
Her entire attention was on the baby.
Arosha had finally stopped crying.
She was asleep.
Her tiny fingers were curled around Prisha's little finger.
Prisha stared at her.
"Your parents didn't even get to choose your first memory."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"You don't know what happened, do you?"
The baby slept peacefully.
Prisha's eyes filled.
"You don't know that you're alone."
She gently touched her cheek.
"And you shouldn't have to."
A tear slipped down Prisha's face.
She wiped it quickly.
Then she looked outside.
Still no Avir.
Her worry grew.
Then the bus door opened.
Avir stepped inside.
His clothes were soaked.
There was blood on his sleeve.
Prisha immediately stood.
"What happened?"
He looked at her.
"Arhaan Raichand is dead."
The words landed heavily.
Prisha looked down at the baby.
Arosha slept peacefully.
As if the world hadn't just changed forever.
Avir walked toward her.
He looked at the baby.
Then at Prisha.
"We need to leave."
"Where?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Where is safe?"
He didn't answer.
Prisha stared at him.
"You don't have a plan, do you?"
"No."
She exhaled slowly.
"At least you're honest."
Avir looked at her.
"Your family."
"What?"
"Call them."
Prisha blinked.
"Why?"
"Tell them you won't be coming home tonight."
Her eyes widened.
"You want me to lie to my family?"
"I want to keep them away from this."
She stared at him.
"My family will worry."
"I know."
"Then what am I supposed to tell them?"
Avir looked down at Arosha.
His voice softened.
"Tell them you're helping someone."
Prisha looked at him.
"That's not a lie."
"No."
A pause.
"It's just not the whole truth."
The bus finally started moving.
Mumbai was still far away.
Prisha sat beside the sleeping baby.
Avir sat across the aisle.
For the first time since the accident, neither spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable anymore.
It was heavy.
Full of things neither knew how to say.
After several minutes, Prisha whispered:
"Avir?"
He looked at her.
"What?"
"Do you think he was right?"
"About what?"
"That people will come looking for her."
Avir looked at Arosha.
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I don't."
"Then why are you so sure?"
Avir's eyes moved toward the dark road outside.
"Because a man who was dying didn't give his child to a stranger unless he had already run out of choices."
Prisha swallowed.
"What happens now?"
Avir looked at her.
"I don't know."
Then his eyes fell on the baby again.
"But whatever happens..."
His voice became quieter.
"She stays alive."
Prisha looked down at Arosha.
Then back at him.
"Together?"
Avir held her gaze.
There was no contract.
No document.
No witness.
Only two strangers sitting in a moving bus with a baby neither of them had planned to hold.
But he nodded.
"Together."
Prisha nodded too.
Neither of them knew that they had just made the first promise of a life neither had chosen.
Three hours later, the bus finally reached Mumbai.
The students began gathering their bags.
The rain had weakened.
Prisha looked down at Arosha.
The baby was still asleep.
Avir stood near the bus door.
His phone rang.
He answered.
"Hello?"
Yuvan's voice came from the other end.
"Where the hell are you?"
Avir glanced at Prisha.
"I'm in Mumbai."
"Your meeting was hours ago."
"I know."
"You're impossible."
Avir didn't respond.
Yuvan's voice became serious.
"Avir."
"What?"
"There is something you need to know."
Avir's expression changed.
"What?"
"The Raichand family just released a statement."
Avir's eyes narrowed.
"About what?"
Yuvan was silent for a moment.
Then—
"They've announced that Arhaan Raichand and his wife died in an accident tonight."
Avir looked toward Arosha.
His grip tightened around the phone.
Yuvan continued.
"And they've also announced something else."
Avir's heart sank.
"What?"
"They said Arhaan and Maahirah Raichand had no children."
Avir slowly looked at the sleeping baby.
At the tiny face.
The little hand curled around Prisha's finger.
And suddenly, Arhaan's last words echoed in his mind.
Never let the Raichands know she exists.
Avir's eyes hardened.
Because now he understood.
The danger wasn't coming.
It was already looking for her.
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