Revive Reunite Revenge

⚠️ Trigger Warning !!!!

 This chapter contains intense emotional scenes, violence, and themes of child trauma. Please take care of yourself while reading. If you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, it's okay to take a break. Your mental health matters.

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~ Flashback of ten years ago continue ~

SHIVAAY POV

It's been two weeks since I found out I have a twin sister... a real family.

And not just any sister—my fairy. I started calling her, because she's always glowing. Not like shiny-shiny glowing, but... warm. Safe. Like magic that hugs you.

In these past days, she's told me everything—about everyone. Our brothers. Our big brother—Dadda, she says I can call him that too.
At first, it felt strange. But she smiled so proudly, her eyes shining when she said, "You're my twin, you have every right."
And I believed her. Because I want to.

I don't get much time with her.
I only get to see her for five hours each day, when that bald Ganju uncle is away. He went back to his own house for a while. Before he could return, I ran from there and hid where they couldn't find me. Now I'm the one who takes food to her. That's the only reason they let me go.

But the food they give—ugh. It's dry. Stale. Hard. It smells like something left outside for days. I would never give that to her. So I started hiding two warm chapatis and a bit of mango pickle in my hoodie—what the people pretending to be my guardians gave me. They never noticed. And even if they did, I didn't care.
I'd rather stay hungry if it means she gets to eat at least once.

Oh, and Oreos. I always try to bring Oreos. It's her favourite. Mine too. But when I see her eyes light up after opening the packet, it feels like I just gave her a treasure. She eats them slow, like they're precious.

That smile she gives me... it's my favourite thing.

But... every time I go, I see new bruises. On her arm. Her back. Her neck. Big ones. Small ones. Some look old. Some are fresh.

I hate them.

I hate how she hides them.

I hate how she still smiles like they're not even there. Like she's used to pain.

I told her I wanted to fight the people who hurt her. I wanted to shout and break everything. She got scared when I said that. She held my arm so tight and shook her head. "They'll hurt you too," she whispered. "I won't survive that."

I told her I don't care if they hurt me. I really don't.

But then she cried.

Not small crying. She cried like her heart was breaking. Like she'd been holding it all in and it finally spilled.

She hugged me and cried into my shoulder. I didn't know what to do. I just hugged her back. And then... I cried too. I didn't mean to. My face got itchy, my eyes burned, my nose made weird sounds.

I hate crying. But that time, I didn't stop.

After that, I promised not to fight. Not like that. But I never stopped thinking.

I even tried to call Dadda.
She taught me his number. She made me memorise it, say it again and again until I could recite it in my sleep.
I found a cafe in the market that had a landline. I dialed and waited. It rang... but never connected. I kept trying, day after day.