The next morning, sunlight slipped gently through the wide glass windows of the Rathoure mansion. Breakfast was quieter than usual—no laughter, no teasing. Only the sound of spoons tapping against plates.

Kabir watched Advik, who sat across from him, calm as stone, eyes on his coffee. Something about that stillness was strange—too heavy. Finally, Kabir set down his spoon.

"Bhai, what's this behavior these days?" he asked softly, not accusing, just... tired of guessing.

Advik didn't look up. "What behavior?"

Kabir sighed, leaning forward. "You barely spoke to Innya yesterday. Not even when she smiled at you. She brought ice cream, man. You used to fight me for her attention before."

A pause. The air shifted slightly, a thread of silence stretching between them.

Then Advik finally spoke, voice low, steady but cracked at the edges.
"Kabir, if Innya doesn't feel well, she can call us. She knows that."
He lifted his eyes now—dark, restless.
"But she didn't."

Kabir frowned, confused. "You mean...?"

Advik's jaw tightened. "She called Ved."
He looked away again, his next words barely a whisper.
"Maybe she doesn't need us the same way anymore."

Kabir's lips parted, but nothing came out. For a moment, he just stared at his brother—the same Advik who never cared what people thought, now quietly breaking without making a sound.

He wanted to say you're overthinking, but the truth was sitting right there on the table between them, untouched like the cold toast on Advik's plate.

Down the hallway, the morning light flickered across the floor, and the mansion, once so loud with warmth, seemed to listen in silence.

Advik's words hung in the air, quiet but sharp. Kabir leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. The silence felt heavier than before.

After a while, Kabir tried to lighten it.
"Bhai, Ved already told us, naa?" he said carefully. "He accidentally found Innya that day. It wasn't like he went searching for her on purpose."

Advik's eyes flicked toward him, unreadable. Kabir shrugged, forcing a small laugh.
"Come on, yaar, let it go naa. She's fine now, happy. That's what matters."

For a second, Advik almost smiled. Almost.
But then he looked away, voice flat.
"Yeah... fine."

Kabir frowned, sensing that edge beneath the calm. "You still don't believe it, do you?"

Advik didn't answer. He stirred his coffee once, the spoon clinking softly against the mug.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. But tell me one thing, Kabir..."
He turned his gaze toward the window where sunlight spilled across the marble floor.
"Why did she call him first?"

Kabir had no answer this time. He watched his brother's reflection in the glass—composed face, but eyes that told another story.

From the far end of the hall, faint footsteps echoed. Innya's voice, soft and clear, drifted through the doorway.
Both brothers turned slightly, and Kabir whispered,
"Don't start again, bhai. Just... act normal."

Scence shift.....

Innya threw her arms around them, the weight of four long months melting into that single embrace. She felt their warmth, their steady breath against her, wild yet familiar.

When she pulled back, her gaze lifted—one stood tall, his coat glinting faintly in the golden light, a tiger 🐯, royal and calm. The other beside him was darker—his eyes like polished onyx, his stripes deeper, rarer—the magnificent Black Bengal Tiger.

Her throat tightened with joy. She cupped their faces gently, kissed them both on the forehead, and whispered with a shaky laugh,

"I missed you aloooottt 🥺💞🐾"

The air stilled around them. Even the mansion seemed to listen—its silence filled with awe, as if it, too, understood what they meant to her.

Ved stood a few steps behind, half in shadow, half in morning light. His hands slid into his pockets, but his eyes—steady, unreadable—didn't leave Innya.

She looked so alive now, her laughter echoing softly against the old stone walls, her fingers brushing through the fur of the two great beings before her—the tiger and the Black Bengal Tiger. The way they leaned into her, unafraid, spoke of history... of something deeper than words.

Ved exhaled, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He whispered to himself, barely audible

"She finally found her peace... even if the world never knows where."

The morning light shifted, catching the curve of her face, the flicker of the tigers' eyes, the strange serenity between them all.

Ved watched as Innya turned, eyes bright with mischief. She brushed her hand over the tigers' heads and said softly, almost like a promise

"Let's go... to our place."

The two majestic creatures stirred at her words, tails flicking in recognition. Ved followed quietly as they moved through the garden path that led to her private park, a secluded stretch of emerald grass bordered by towering trees and a calm stream running through.

They stepped into Innya's private park, a hidden haven tucked behind tall hedges and silent fountains. The sunlight slipped through the trees in golden threads, catching in the morning mist. It was a place built for peace—wide meadows, a glasshouse by the stream, and the faint scent of jasmine drifting through the air.

As soon as the gates closed behind them, the tigers came alive.
The golden one roared softly, stretching its massive frame before bounding toward Innya. The Black Bengal Tiger followed, slower but commanding, its deep eyes gleaming like onyx under the light.

Innya laughed, a sound that didn't belong to the hospital or the silence of recovery—it was real, bright, almost childlike. She started to run, her shoes brushing against the grass, the tigers chasing her with playful growls. She'd glance back, teasing them, her laughter echoing like a melody through the park.

They caught her at last. The golden tiger nudged her arm, almost purring, while the darker one lowered its head to her lap. She sat down between them, fingers buried in their fur, face glowing with warmth.

A little farther away, Ved sat at the old oak desk, the same one she used to write at. He watched them through his camera lens—click... click... click. Each frame captured something words couldn't: her peace, their loyalty, the impossible softness in their eyes.

The breeze carried petals across the grass; sunlight painted everything in shades of honey.

Ved lowered the camera after a while, just watching.
For a moment, he wasn't a doctor or a caretaker. Just a witness—to her happiness, to the strange harmony between human and beast.

The park breathed with them—alive, secret, sacred.

After a long morning of play, they returned to Innya's mansion, the tigers padding silently behind her. The sunlight had shifted, casting soft shadows across the marble floors.

Both took showers, letting the warmth wash away the traces of grass and excitement. Innya wrapped herself in a towel, stepping out with a bright smile.

She knelt beside Leo and Alex, the golden tiger and the Black Bengal Tiger, and whispered softly, "Goodbye, my loves. Be good."

The tigers' eyes met hers—a silent farewell, deep and full of understanding. No words were needed; the bond was unspoken, eternal.

Ved helped her with her bag, and soon, they drove off toward the Rathoure Mansion, the car gliding through quiet streets, windows down to let the breeze in.

Partway through the drive, Ved spoke, his tone calm but firm.
"Innya... I have to go to Dubai. Urgent work."

Innya's lips formed a small pout, her eyes flicking to his, nodding reluctantly.
She whispered, almost teasingly, "Okay... go then."

The car moved steadily on, the road stretching ahead, both of them aware of the miles that would separate them, yet bound by the quiet understanding of trust and shared secrets.

The car rolled up the familiar driveway of Rathoure Mansion, the gates opening wide as if welcoming them back. The sun was higher now, spilling warmth across the sprawling lawns and the polished marble paths.

Inside, the mansion felt alive with quiet activity—servants moving about, soft echoes of voices, the faint clinking of breakfast dishes still being cleared. Ved guided Innya through the grand entrance, each step measured, deliberate.

As they entered the main hall, the family looked up. Zayan, Kabir, and Rudra paused mid-task, glancing at Innya with surprised smiles. The way she moved—radiant, refreshed, and undeniably happy—caught them off guard.

Ved helped Innya with her bag and gave a subtle nod, letting her take a moment to adjust. He leaned close, voice low, "I'll be back soon... Dubai. You know the plan."

Innya nodded, her lips forming the same small pout from earlier, eyes soft but steady.
"I know," she whispered, her tone a mix of teasing and trust.

The mansion seemed to exhale with their presence, quiet corridors and tall windows absorbing the calm before the next wave of the day's events.

That evening, Ved gathered everyone at the dinner table, the long polished wood gleaming under the chandelier light. The aroma of food mingled with the faint scent of jasmine from the garden, creating a calm, homey atmosphere.

He spoke clearly, "I'll have to leave for Dubai on urgent work tomorrow morning. Just wanted everyone to know."

The elders around the table nodded thoughtfully, accepting it with quiet understanding, their expressions calm and composed.

The boys, however, felt a different kind of happiness bubbling quietly in their hearts—relieved that things were settled, yet secretly glad for the warmth Innya carried back into the mansion.

Dinner continued with soft conversation, clinking utensils, and occasional smiles, but a lightness lingered in the air—a subtle joy that only those who truly cared could feel.

Once the meal ended, everyone slowly got up, exchanging polite nods and soft goodnights. The family dispersed to their rooms, the mansion settling into a gentle quiet, each corner holding echoes of laughter, love, and a day that had stitched itself into memory.

After everyone had gone to their rooms, Innya sat on her bed, the soft lamplight spilling across her black outfit and the scattered papers of her day. She carefully packed her things, folding clothes neatly, tucking small personal items into her bag. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as if savoring the last quiet moments before tomorrow's journey.

Her fingers lingered on a small notebook and a pen—a reminder of her private world, of thoughts she hadn't shared. She smiled faintly, thinking of the morning in the park, of Leo and Alex, and the way the tigers' eyes had mirrored her joy.

Finally, with everything packed and ready, she slipped under the covers, curling into the warmth of her bed. The mansion outside had gone still, the quiet settling around her like a soft blanket.

Her eyes fluttered shut, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. Sleep came slowly, carrying her through the night, dreams filled with tigers, laughter, and the anticipation of the days to come.