CANVAS OF COURAGE [Ongoing]

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As they pulled into the hospital parking lot, the ambulance doors swung open, and the paramedics rushed Siddarth and Sanvi inside. Eshan hurriedly parked the car, throwing open the door and sprinting toward the entrance, Arya and Kaira close behind.

The cold, sterile corridor outside the operation theater was filled with a suffocating tension. Eshan paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the silence. His mind raced, filled with images of Siddarth and Sanvi, unconscious, fragile. Why couldn't I have stopped this? he thought, his fists clenched in frustration. His jaw tightened as he replayed the scene in his head over and over, each thought heavier than the last.

Arya sat on one of the metal chairs, her face buried in her hands, her body trembling with suppressed sobs. "They're in there, fighting for their lives," she whispered, her voice breaking. Her shoulders shook, her hands gripping her face like she could hold herself together. "I can't... I can't lose them."

Kaira, sitting beside her, placed a steady hand on her back, her movements gentle and comforting. "Arya, listen to me," she said softly, her voice calm but laced with emotion. "They're strong. Siddarth and Sanvi—they're fighters. They'll make it through this. You have to trust them." Her words were reassuring, but her own eyes betrayed the fear she was fighting to hide.

Arya looked up at her, her tear-streaked face filled with anguish. "You really think so?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Kaira nodded firmly, though her heart ached. "I do. And we have to be strong for them. They need us to believe in them right now." She paused, her fingers pressing gently into Arya's shoulder. "Sanvi's parents are on their way. They'll be here soon."

Eshan stopped pacing for a moment, turning toward them. His face was tense, his emotions tightly controlled. "Arya, Kaira's right," he said, his voice steady but heavy. 

Kaira looked at Eshan, her eyes meeting his for a moment. She saw the weight he was carrying, the way he was pushing down his own emotions to be the pillar for them both. She gave him a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of his strength.

As they sat waiting in tense silence, they suddenly heard hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor of hospitals. Sanvi's parents appeared their faces etched with devastation. Sanvi mother's sobs broke the stillness as she rushed toward them, her hands trembling uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face, her cries raw and filled with agony. "Sanvi! My baby! What happened to her? Kaira?" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling as though each word physically hurt.

Kaira immediately stood, her heart aching at the sight of Sanvi's shattered mother. She moved closer, her voice soft but steady, trying to console her while explaining the situation. "Aunty," she said gently, her hands brushing the older woman's arms in an attempt to comfort her. She spoke in calming tones, skipping the details, but her voice carried the weight of reassurance. "The doctors are doing treatment. She's in good hands."

Sanvi's father followed closely behind, his gait brisk and tense. His usually composed demeanor was crumbling—his eyes were bloodshot, and unshed tears shimmered in their depths. He reached for his wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he tried to steady her. "Leela, please," he said, his voice quiet but firm, though it trembled faintly with his own fears. "We have to stay strong—for Sanvi." Yet even as he spoke, a tear escaped, rolling down his cheek. He blinked rapidly, as though trying to mask the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

Her mother shook her head, her cries intensifying. "How can I, Harsh? How can I be strong when my child—my baby—is in there?" Her voice cracked, the anguish raw and unfiltered as she clutched at his shirt, seeking some semblance of support.