Bound by Ashes

Chapter 6: Shadows Between Us

The sound of laughter blossomed around the table, light and genuine, easing the tight knot of tension that had lingered like a shadow over the morning.

As the family passed around spoons and sampled the halwa, Shivani nodded with measured approval. "Perfect balance," she said quietly, "not too sweet, just right."

Arjun allowed himself a rare smile, his eyes reflecting a quiet pride. "Very good, Ruhanika."

Avyansh's voice carried warmth as he praised her, "This is excellent — you've got a knack for it."

Rudra nodded in agreement, "Honestly, I didn't expect this from a newcomer. You've made a believer out of me."

Priya added with a gentle laugh, "And don't forget, Rahi helped too—she stirred for two whole minutes without a single complaint."

Rahi beamed with pride, wiggling her sticky fingers in triumph.

Even Neelima and Ishika, whose early glances had been cold and skeptical, allowed themselves to admit, with barely perceptible nods, that the halwa was good — surprisingly good.

For one fleeting moment, the Rajvansh family table transformed from a battlefield of judgment and expectation into a place of fragile harmony. Sweetness mingled with tradition, laughter wove through unspoken words, and a child's simple greeting bridged the distance between past scars and hopeful beginnings.

In that suspended moment, beneath the glow of morning light and the watchful eyes of those who held the family's legacy, Ruhanika felt, perhaps for the first time, the tentative stirrings of acceptance — a delicate thread binding her to a new home.

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Scene 2:

The golden light of early morning had barely settled over the Rajvansh mansion when Ruhanika found herself standing by the grand bay window in the drawing room. Her gaze drifted over the sprawling gardens, where dew-laden leaves shimmered softly, and the distant chirping of birds threaded a fragile melody through the warm air. Outside, the world stirred peacefully, indifferent to the tangled lives inside the mansion's ancient walls.

But inside her chest, a restless tension hummed like a tightly coiled spring — the quiet pulse of responsibility that had never left her, no matter where she stood. Memories of hurried footsteps, sharp alarms, and lives hanging by threads flashed across her mind.

Her hand brushed a delicate curtain aside, fingers trembling slightly as the weight of yesterday's ceremonies and today's tentative hopes pressed on her thoughts. The fragile warmth of acceptance she glimpsed at breakfast was still too new, too delicate to hold firmly.

Then, piercing the quiet, her phone vibrated sharply against the cold marble tabletop — sudden, insistent, impossible to ignore. The screen flashed the hospital's name in bold letters.

Ruhanika's breath caught in her throat, a reflex sharpened by years spent in trauma wards, racing against time. Her heartbeat quickened, muscles tensing as adrenaline surged through her veins.

Near her feet, little Rahi played quietly with her wooden toys, her laughter like a soft anchor to a turbulent sea. A pang twisted through Ruhanika's chest — the painful knowledge that this moment of calm would not last

"This won't wait," she whispered to herself, steeling her nerves with practiced resolve.

She knelt slowly, smoothing the soft curls around Rahi's ear and locking eyes with her daughter's trusting gaze. "Beta," she said gently, "Mama has to go. There's an emergency at the hospital."