9

In the crisp hush of early morning, just after finishing their morning chores - packing essentials, folding sleeping bags, sipping on hot chai and nibbling on parathas - the group set out, excitement bubbling in the cold mountain air. The snow-covered peaks ahead stood proud and vast, glittering under the soft rays of a sun hidden behind light clouds. Their breaths made little clouds in the air, and every crunch of boots against the soft snow felt like nature itself was listening.

The trail ahead was narrow, winding through tall pine trees dusted with white. Flakes of snow clung to their jackets, and the chill in the wind was biting. They walked in a loose line, some chatting, some quiet, some just taking in the breathtaking beauty around.

There was so much cold around.

"Yrr bhut thand lag rhi h," Pranvi said, her voice slightly trembling. Her ears were red, visibly cold, as she hadn't worn anything to cover them.

"To kisne bola tha heroin banne ko aur mat pehno cap or muffler," Arush replied with a mischievous smirk, tugging his muffler higher around his face as he teased her.

"Tum ruko," Pranvi snapped, narrowing her eyes at him playfully but with a mock-angry glare. Without a second thought, she bent down and scooped up a handful of soft snow.

She packed it quickly into a ball and hurled it toward Arush. But he was too quick - he shifted sideways with a laugh, and the snowball flew past him, hitting Ishan squarely on the cheek.

Startled, Ishan looked up, snow clinging to his face. Arush burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Ishan didn't need a second to retaliate. He packed his own snowball and launched it at Arush - but once again, Arush ducked with perfect timing, and the snowball ended up hitting Anushka instead, who gasped in surprise.

She let out a war cry, laughing as she scooped up her own snow and flung it across, hitting Vani directly. The chain reaction had begun.

Vani let out a shriek and threw a snowball at Uttar, who looked around in mock betrayal before launching one at Aman. Aman, laughing, picked up a double handful and sent it flying toward Arush, the original instigator.

Snowballs flew in all directions now. Laughter echoed between the trees. Some slipped, some ducked behind rocks and trees, and others just stood still, catching snow on their eyelashes. For those few moments, they weren't trekking - they were children again, letting go of worries, just playing in the snow.

As the laughter quieted, they brushed themselves off and resumed the trek, their cheeks pink, eyes bright, hearts full.

They climbed higher into the alpine trails. The trees became sparser, the snow deeper. The cold, though harsh, felt oddly welcoming now.

At one point, Pranvi trailed behind the group - not because she was tired, but because her shoe lace had come undone. She crouched down slowly, brushing snow off her knee to tie it back. Her fingers, already stiff from the cold, struggled.

She didn't notice when someone walked up beside her.

A shadow fell over her, and when she looked up, it was Ishan. Quiet. Calm. He didn't say anything at first - he just looked at her for a second, then gently removed the muffler from around his neck.

Without asking, he bent down slightly and wrapped it around her ears, adjusting it just right so it covered her from the wind. His fingers were cold, but his touch was gentle - careful, like she was something fragile.

She froze.

Her mind, just like her breath, stopped. Not because of the cold - but because of the way he did it. Without words. Without hesitation. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest. Loud. Fast. She couldn't think. She couldn't even tie her shoes anymore.

"Ise pehn lo," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers for a second - a second that felt like an entire story was told - and then he turned and walked ahead, his steps crunching softly in the snow.

She just sat there. Still. Her shoelaces forgotten. Her world suddenly warmer in the coldest place she'd ever been.

Swara looked back Pranvi's position,

"Oye vha kya samadhi lene ka irada h jaldi aa na idhar," Swara called out with a laugh.

"A..aa....ha....a rhi hu," Pranvi replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. She stood slowly, trying to gather herself, to understand what had just happened. Her hand touched the muffler gently, like she wasn't sure it was real.

She walked again - but her steps were lighter now, her eyes often drifting to the one walking ahead of her. Something had shifted. The cold was still there, but it didn't matter anymore.

She wasn't just trekking a snow-covered trail.

She was walking through a moment she knew she'd remember forever.

As the group finally reached the summit, gasps of awe filled the silent air. The mountain opened up into a vast, snowy expanse. The moon had risen - large, silver, and almost magical - casting a glow over everything. The snow sparkled like a blanket of stardust. It was beautiful. But not as beautiful as the feeling quietly blooming in Pranvi's chest.

They all stood together, in silence, under the moon.

And even in that quiet moment, her heart wasn't still.

It was dancing - for a reason she hadn't dared to name yet.

After the long, tiring trek through snow-covered trails and countless snowball ambushes, the group finally reached their campsite - a small open clearing surrounded by whispering pine trees and a blanket of white all around. The cold was biting, but excitement was high.

They quickly began setting up tents, though "quickly" for them meant: three people working, two giving instructions, and Arush claiming he was "managing from outside." After a fair amount of slipping on ice, shouting over tangled tent cloths, and pretending to read instructions, the tents were somehow up.

Night fell quickly, and with it came a spectacular sky full of stars. Everyone huddled around the crackling campfire, wrapped in blankets, sipping hot chocolate or soup, their laughter echoing through the forest.

That's when the inevitable happened:

Truth or Dare.

The bottle spun and landed on Arush.

"Dare," he said boldly, puffing out his chest like a warrior in a hoodie.

Aman and Uttar, who had been whispering for a while, exchanged evil smiles.

"Go to a girl and say 'Will you be my girlfriend?' Seriously."

Arush tried to play cool. "Bas itna hi?" But his eyes started darting around.

He first looked at Vani.

Instant regret. Flashbacks of her revenge during the water prank hit him like a slap of snow. Nope, not going there.

Then he scanned the circle and saw Swara, who was outside her tent, dusting her jacket and humming a tune.

"Perfect," he whispered. "She's chill. Right?"

He stood up, stretched dramatically like an actor getting into character, and started walking toward Swara.

The group behind him silently erupted.

Aman mimed giving him a flower.

Anushka whispered loudly, "All the best, beta."

Uttar made a heart shape with his hands, followed by finger guns.

Just before he reached, Swara casually walked inside her tent.

"Ekdam sahi timing," Arush muttered and slipped in behind her.

Three seconds later...

WHOOOOSH!

A chappal flew out of the tent like it had been launched from NASA.

"Bachao bachao koi!" Arush screamed, bursting out of the tent like a scared cat.

"Arey main mazak kar raha tha, dare tha!" he shouted as Swara started hurling whatever she could grab.

A rolled-up towel.

A pair of gloves.

A slipper.

A deodorant.

Even a hairbrush.

He ducked behind the firewood pile, yelling,

"Aaa...aaa... please sorry na!"

The rest of the group was on the floor - literally. Laughing so hard, Anushka had tears in her eyes, and Aman was wheezing.

"Yrr tum log kya tamasha dekh rhe ho, has has ke? Yha koi circus chal raha hai kya?" Arush yelled.

"Circus se kam bhi ni hai," Uttar replied with a straight face before bursting into laughter again.

But Swara wasn't done.

"Mujhe girlfriend banayega? Ruk tu!" she growled, hurling another shoe.

Arush caught it mid-air with surprising skill and instinctively threw it back like a game of dodgeball.

It hit Swara's head softly but perfectly.

Silence.

Then her expression changed from angry girl to angry goddess.

"Suar khi ke! Tum ruko!" she shouted, launching herself at him.

Arush ran. Around the fire. Around the tents. He tripped once, caught himself, and kept running like his life depended on it.

"Bachao bachao! Mujhe koi bachao!" he cried as Swara grabbed a half-filled water bottle. Cold water all over him.

His hoodie, his hair, his self-respect - all soaked.

He knelt dramatically. "Ab to chhod meri maa pair bhi padh lunga, tu kahe to rakhi bhi bandhwa loo lake!"

Swara froze, processing the offer. "Bhag yha se!" she finally snapped.

Defeated, Arush trudged to his tent, looking like a soaked potato. Five minutes later, he emerged in dry clothes, hair towel-dried, wrapped in a blanket - and slumped beside Ishan, trying to hide himself behind him like a school kid hiding from the principal.

The campfire gang? Still not over it.

"Sab badhiya?" Uttar said, nudging him with a wicked smile.

"Tu chup reh," Arush muttered, glaring.

"Aaj to free ka show dekhne mil gaya," Anushka added.

Vani was still laughing, holding her stomach, and Swara returned to the circle like nothing happened - sipping her hot chocolate like a queen who had just defended her throne.

And that night, as laughter echoed into the snowy silence, one thing was clear:

Arush's dare had become the legend of the snow trek.

After hours of laughter, stories of embarrassing childhood moments, ghost tales, and mimicry competitions, the fire started to dim. The group finally stretched their stiff legs, yawned dramatically, and moved to their tents - reluctantly accepting that this was their final night in the snowy paradise.

But Vani stayed back.

She sat alone on a rock, legs pulled up, arms wrapped around her knees, staring at the moon above - glowing gently over the white mountains. Her breath formed soft clouds in the air.

Just then, Aman spotted her from afar and smirked.

"Ek last prank to banta hai," he whispered to himself.

He quietly tiptoed from the back, picked up a dry branch, and gently brushed it along her shoulder while making a low growling sound like a bear.

Vani jumped up with a scream, her reflexes faster than her brain and SLAP!

Aman staggered back, holding his cheek, utterly stunned.

"Sorry." she gasped, wide-eyed.

"Shut up." Aman muttered, more hurt in ego than face, and turned away without another word.

Vani stood still for a moment, blinking.

Then muttered under her breath with increasing volume and fury:

"Pehle khud dara raha tha yahan, prank khud ne start kiya aur fir mujhpe chilla ke chala gaya. Samajhta kya hai apne aapko? Rakshas kahi ka... Jaana hai to jaaye... chullu bhar paani mein doob mare!"

She marched back to her tent, still fuming.

Aman lay awake, staring at the ceiling of the tent. His cheek still tingled, but it wasn't the slap. It was something else, something heavier.

He sighed. "Mujhe mazak nahi karna chahiye tha... galti meri thi."

He sat up, considered going out, saying sorry but it was too late now. She was probably asleep and maybe mad.

"Kal subah... main bas note chhod deta hoon," he thought.

Vani stepped out of her tent after her peaceful morning prayer. The wind was chilly, but she stood silently, admiring the untouched snow, the quiet breeze, and the serene mountain.

Parth appeared behind her, rubbing his arms from the cold.

"Abhi koi nahi jaga."

"Haan, pata hai. Main bhi waapas jaane wali thi tent mein."

"Haan. Hum 12 baje waapas niklenge. So pack everything correctly, okay?"

"Yeahh... okay."

As she turned, Parth casually added, "Arush aur uske saare dost to ja chuke hain."

Vani froze mid-step.

"Kya? Kab?"

"They said they have to go airport, so they left earlier."

"Ohh... achha." she said softly and walked back to her tent, a sudden quietness settling in her chest.

And that's when she saw it - a small sticky note stuck on the outside of her tent flap.

SORRY FOR NIGHT PRANK.

BYE ⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•

- in Aman's messy handwriting.

She held the note for a moment, smiling to herself. "Pagal hai..." she whispered. Then looked at the sky. "Bye."

Everyone else slowly began waking up, groggy but already complaining about going back to "normal life."

Pranvi was folding her blanket when she noticed something tucked under her tent's zipper - a tiny, folded note.

Curious, she opened it.

YOU CAN KEEP THE MUFFLER AS A GIFT.

BYE.

- Ishan

Her breath caught.

She looked around instinctively - hoping, wishing, that maybe he was still nearby. But there was no one. Just cold wind and half-packed tents.

She clutched the note tight, the muffler still warm around her neck.

A small smile came to her lips, but behind it - the sadness of a goodbye she never expected.

"Idiot... number to le lena tha..." she mumbled to herself.

Meanwhile, in the car

Arush, Aman, Ishan, and Uttar were in their car, laughing over the events of last night.

"Us chapal ki trajectory dekh I swear, Swara Olympic mein phekti to gold le aati," Arush said.

Aman stayed quiet, staring out the window.

"Kya hua?" Ishan asked.

"Bas soch raha hoon... kabhi wapas aayein to us jagah fir se rukna chahiye."

They all nodded - somewhere deep inside, already missing the snow, the madness, and... the people they were leaving behind.

After few days,

[ A/N: This scene takes place on the same day as the opening chapter. ]

In the restaurant

After dinner, the group strolled lazily toward the parking lot, chatting and teasing each other like usual. The warm night air was filled with laughter-until suddenly, two quick pats landed on Aman and Ishan's heads from behind.

Both turned around, startled.

A girl walked past them with a cheeky grin on her face.

"Heyyy..." she said brightly.

Aman rolled his eyes the moment he recognized her. "Riya, what even was that? Who greets people like this?"

Before aman could say more , Riya chimed in with a dramatic sigh. "Oh please, like you're any better. Last time you 'greeted' me by pouring cold drink on me. Want me to remind you?"

Aman gave a smug little smile. "That was a memorable welcome."

Ishan chuckled, looking at Riya. "You came alone?"

Riya raised a brow. "What, was I supposed to bring a whole baraat with me?"

He laughed. "No seriously, just asking."

"Relax," she said, waving a hand. "I came to meet a friend and give her an invitation for my party."

Vani and Pranvi, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold, looked at each other in confusion.

"What party?" Aman asked, narrowing his eyes.

Riya gasped dramatically. "Wow. I knew you guys would forget. It's my birthday this weekend!"

"Oh damn, sorry," Ishan said, suddenly sheepish.

"Same," Aman added, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Slipped my mind."

Riya tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the group with a grin.

"I was actually planning to come to your place tomorrow to give the invitation," she said, turning to Aman. "But since I bumped into you here, let's just do it now."

She paused for a second, then added with a teasing smile, "And by the way, it's not going to be just a regular party. This time, it's special."

Aman and Ishan exchanged curious glances.

"Special how?" they asked in unison.

Riya's smile grew wider. "Do you guys remember Ritik?"

Ishan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah... your boyfriend, right?"

"Right," she said, a little dramatically. "I'm going to-wait."

She abruptly stopped mid-sentence and looked past the boys at Vani and Pranvi, who had been quietly observing the exchange until now.

"Okay, hold up. Who are these two girls?" she asked, tilting her head, clearly intrigued.

Aman raised a hand casually. "First tell us about the party, Riya."

But Riya wasn't letting that slide. She pointed at Vani and Pranvi with curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "Uh-uh, not so fast. First, introduce me to these two. Who are they? Don't tell me you two have girlfriends now! Wah, bade chhupe rustam nikle tum log haan!"

Both Aman and Ishan froze.

"Whatttt?!" they said in unison, their expressions hilariously exaggerated.

Vani and Pranvi immediately shook their heads, almost in sync, clearly saying, "No way."

"We're just friends," Ishan clarified, slightly awkward.

Riya lit up. "Nice! That's fantastic!"

Aman narrowed his eyes. "Fantastic? What's so fantastic about that?"

"Okay okay, listen up." She took a step closer and dropped her announcement like a bomb. "My birthday's this Saturday. And... I'm going to propose to Ritik for marriage."

The group stared at her in stunned silence.

"And it's going to be a themed party," she added with a grin. "Everyone has to come with a partner."

"Wait what-" Aman began, but Riya cut him off.

"And since you two having girlfriends would be nothing short of a miracle-which clearly hasn't happened-both of you are coming with these two." She pointed matter-of-factly at Vani and Pranvi.

"Uh, no no... that's not necessary," Vani spoke up quickly, waving her hands.

Riya gasped, placing a hand on her chest dramatically. "Excuse me? It's my special day! And if you're their friends, then you're automatically my friends too. So obviously, you're invited. And if you don't show up, I swear I'll drag you from your homes myself. Got it?"

Pranvi looked like she wanted to argue, but Riya shut it

down instantly. "No but-vut. All four of you are coming. Bas."

Pranvi blinked, then gave in with a small smile. "Okay."

Vani laughed softly. "Now that she's said it like that, I guess I have no choice."

"We were going to come anyway," Aman and Ishan said in perfect sync.

Ishan turned to Riya with a raised eyebrow. "Whose idea was this theme anyway?"

Aman smirked. "Come on, who else? Ritik's smart. It had to be her-Miss Khurapati Dimag."

Riya burst into laughter. "Hehehe... maybeee."

She reached into her bag and handed each of them a small, glittery envelope. "Okay guys, bye! Here are your cards. And seriously-read them properly, especially the theme rules and entry details!"

With a playful wave, she turned and headed to her car. The rest of them watched her go, still processing the wild turn of events, before they made their way home too-invitation cards in hand, and maybe just a tiny bit of excitement in their steps.

Pranvi stood just outside Dr. Parthak Malhotra's cabin, nervously biting her nails and pacing in a small circle. He had called her in the middle of her shift without any explanation. Her mind was racing-Had she made a mistake? Missed something important?

She was so lost in thought she almost didn't notice Ishan walking toward her.

"What happened?" he asked gently, his tone soft.

"N-nothing. Just... nothing," she replied, trying to sound casual, though her unease was obvious.

Ishan gave her a knowing smile. "Come on, he called you in, right? Let's go."

She nodded and followed him inside.

The moment they stepped in, Dr. Parthak looked up from his desk with a warm smile. "Welcome, Dr. Pranvi."

"Good morning, sir," she greeted, a little stiffly.

"Good morning to both of you," he replied, glancing between them. "How's everything going? Are you settling in well? Is the hospital environment and staff meeting your expectations?"

"It's actually better than I imagined, sir. Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity," she said sincerely.

"No, no," he chuckled lightly. "You've earned your place here. You're talented-it's only right."

"Thank you, sir." She smiled, a little more at ease.

"And Ishan, how are you, my boy?" he asked, turning to him.

"All good, sir," Ishan replied with an easy smile.

"As expected. You handled things really well in my absence. Good job."

Pranvi looked between the two of them, slightly puzzled by their familiarity.

Dr. Parthak leaned back in his chair. "Next month, I'll be heading to Paris for a vacation with my wife. She's been complaining non-stop-'You have no time for me, always work, work, work!'" He laughed heartily.

Ishan chuckled. "That'll be a well-deserved break, sir."

"Beta, now you can call me uncle, not sir. No formalities between us."

"Ji, uncle," Ishan said with a playful laugh.

Then Dr. Parthak turned to Pranvi, eyes twinkling. "And Pranvi, how's he treating you? I hope he's not troubling you-he's always been quite the mischief-maker!"

Pranvi straightened up, startled for a second. "N-no sir, not at all. He's very kind... to everyone here. And to me as well."

"Aha!" Parthak laughed. "He used to drive us crazy as a kid. Always getting into trouble."

"Uncle, pleaaase," Ishan groaned, making a mock-baby face.

Parthak chuckled. "Alright, alright. Get back to work now. And Ishan, don't forget to send me that report I asked for this morning."

"On it," Ishan replied.

They stepped out of the cabin, and Pranvi finally let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"He's so nice," she muttered under her breath. "And I was freaking out for no reason..."

Ishan turned to her. "Did you say something?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, just... he's really warm with you."

"Oh, that," Ishan smiled. "He's actually my uncle-well, not by blood, but he's one of my dad's closest friends. Practically family. He's always treated me like a son."

"Ohh," she said, nodding with a smile of understanding.

Then, slipping back into professional mode, Ishan checked his watch.

"Alright, I have a surgery scheduled now. Meanwhile, I need you to examine today's OPD patients-especially that tumor case we discussed yesterday. I'm officially handing it over to you."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Really?"

He nodded. "You're capable, Pranvi. Just be thorough. Make sure to compile the day's findings, and before you leave, drop off all the reports with me for review."

"Yes, sir," she said, her tone steady and focused now.

"Good. You'll do fine," he said before heading off toward the OR, leaving her with a faint but proud smile.

As Pranvi walked away, her thoughts lingered on something... or rather, someone.

He's so nice. So polite. So thoughtful... she blushed a little, pressing her fingers lightly to her warm cheeks. I wish I could tell him...

Shaking off the flustered feeling, she took a deep breath and headed toward the OPD, ready for the day's long line of patients.

The first was an elderly woman in her sixties, seated quietly with a hand pressed to her forehead.

"Acha... baaki to koi pareshani nahi hai na aapko?" Pranvi asked gently, flipping through her notes.

The woman smiled and shook her head slowly. "Nahi beta, ab to pehle se kaafi better hoon. Mera Ishan beta toh bohot hi accha hai. Usne toh mujhe itne dhang se samjhaaya, itna pyaar se treat kiya...ki ab koi preshani hi ni "

Pranvi smiled, that now-familiar warmth returning to her cheeks. Of course he did.

"Well," she said, pulling out her prescription pad, "I'm writing you a course of medication. Please take it as directed, and come back after the festival days for a follow-up checkup. You'll be completely fine soon."

"Thik hai beta. Dhanyawaad," the old lady said kindly, slowly getting up.

"Ji," Pranvi nodded, helping her gather her things.

Just then, a young boy-probably 10 or 11-walked in with his mother. He sat cross-legged on the bed, looking a little too comfortable for someone supposedly unwell.

Pranvi offered them a smile. "Hello. What's the problem?"

"Ma'am, he's been complaining of a headache since this morning," the boy's mother replied.

"Hmm... alright, let me check." She gently examined the boy-checked his vitals, his eyes, neck tension, and even lightly pressed his temples. There were no signs of discomfort, no fever, and certainly no signs of a migraine.

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes just slightly. This doesn't add up.

After a moment, she leaned close to the boy's mother and whispered near her ear, "I don't think he actually has a headache."

"What?" the woman blinked, surprised. "But he insisted-"

"Maybe... just maybe... he's trying to avoid something?" Pranvi offered with a slight smirk.

The mother frowned, confused. "You think?"

"Let's test him." Pranvi nodded and turned back to the boy with an exaggeratedly serious face.

"Dekhiye," she said in a dramatic tone, "yeh jo aapko ho gaya hai na... yeh kaafi badi bimari hai. Humein turant operation karna padega."

The boy's eyes widened, and Pranvi continued, pointing toward a large syringe on the table. "Woh bada waala injection dekha? Pehle woh lagega. Aap behosh honge. Phir hum aapka sir kaat ke... operation karenge."

"Doctor aap jo theek samjho, kar dijiye," the mother said innocently, playing along now.

The boy immediately shot up from the bed. "No, no! I'm fine! Mujhe koi dard nahi ho raha. Actually... mujhe school nahi jaana tha. Aaj test hai..."

"Acha!" his mother glared. "Tu ruk, abhi chhod ke aati ho tujhe school!" She grabbed his ear and yanked him up.

Pranvi chuckled. "Arey... rehne dijiye, bachcha hai."

"Ji, thank you," the mother said, embarrassed, as she dragged her son out of the cabin, still muttering.

Once the door closed, Pranvi let out a proper laugh.

Kids.

By the time she had checked on at least a dozen more patients, her energy was beginning to dip. But there was one case she'd been mentally preparing for since morning-the tumor case Ishan had handed over to her.

She sat down with the file in hand, flipping through the previous reports. Male patient. Late 40s. Symptoms: frequent fainting, severe headaches, episodes of blurred vision, and occasional memory lapses. The MRI scan, attached to the file, showed a lesion in the left temporal lobe-likely benign, but dangerously placed.

She furrowed her brows. The tumor hadn't grown significantly in size, but its location could potentially affect speech and comprehension if left untreated. The last report had some notes from Ishan-sharp, precise observations, but even he had underlined a line in red: "Monitor closely. If symptoms worsen, surgical intervention required."

Pranvi sighed, reviewing the medications prescribed so far, then glanced at today's vitals. She'd need to meet the patient personally, assess responsiveness, coordination, cognitive abilities. She also needed to speak to his family-surgery wasn't confirmed yet, but they had to be prepared.

Grabbing her notepad, she wrote down a few preliminary notes and a checklist of what she needed from radiology, neurology, and the psych evaluation team.

This case was serious. And now, it was officially hers.

But instead of fear, a quiet confidence settled in her chest.

You can do this, she told herself.

And with that, she rose from her chair, ready to meet the patient-ready to prove herself.

Pranvi stepped into the private room, clipboard in hand. The man lying on the bed looked up slowly. He was in his late forties, his face pale, eyes sunken, and a gentle tiredness hung around him like a weight he was used to carrying.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dinesh," she said softly, walking to his bedside with a calm smile.

"Good afternoon, doctor," he replied, his voice raspy but polite.

"I'm Dr. Pranvi, I'll be handling your case moving forward," she explained, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. "I went through your reports, but I'd like to ask you a few things myself. Is that okay?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"Can you tell me how you're feeling today? Any headaches?"

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "It started again in the morning... not sharp, but... dull and constant. Like a drum tapping in my skull."

"And any blurring of vision?" she asked, gently.

"A little. It comes and goes. Yesterday I forgot where I had kept my phone. It was in my hand." He chuckled softly at himself, but there was something heavy in his smile.

Pranvi smiled back, but her gaze stayed focused. "Do you ever feel confused while speaking or remembering words?"

He nodded slowly. "Sometimes. I try to speak and... the words just slip away. Like my brain knows it, but my mouth forgets."

She made a few quick notes on her clipboard, then looked up. "I know this must be frustrating, but you've been very brave."

He looked at her, almost surprised. "Brave?"

"Yes," she said sincerely. "Most people panic or shut down. You're still smiling. That matters."

He gave a small laugh. "If I don't smile, my wife will cry. If I panic, my daughter will worry. So I try... to be normal."

Pranvi's heart ached a little at that. "We're going to take good care of you, Mr. Dinesh. I'll be requesting a few more tests to monitor any changes. It may not mean surgery right away, but we'll keep a close eye."

He looked at her carefully. "Do you think I'll need surgery?"

She paused before answering, her voice calm but honest. "It depends. If the symptoms progress or the tumor shifts even slightly, we might have to. But right now, we're monitoring. Nothing is final."

He nodded, visibly processing the answer.

Pranvi closed the file gently. "Try to rest for now. I'll be back later today after discussing everything with the neuro team. If you feel anything unusual-pain, dizziness, speech issues-just call the nurse, alright?"

"Alright," he said. "Thank you, Doctor."

As she stood up, he added, "You speak with kindness. It helps, more than the medicine sometimes."

Pranvi smiled warmly. "Then I'll make sure you get both-good care and kindness."

And with that, she walked out of the room, the weight of the case heavy on her shoulders-but her resolve even stronger.

The kitchen was filled with nothing but the sound of a spoon clanking aimlessly against an empty steel plate.

Vani stood staring at the gas stove, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed.

"Dead," she muttered dramatically, giving the cylinder a gentle kick. "Absolutely, completely dead."

She had already tried calling the gas agency five times. No answer. She even left a message-still nothing. After giving up, she did what she did best in emergencies: curled back up in bed.

With no breakfast.

No lunch.

No motivation.

Evening sunlight was now pouring through the curtains when her phone started buzzing relentlessly. Groaning, she picked it up and squinted at the screen.

Maa calling.

"Hello..." she answered, voice still drenched in sleep.

"TU SO RAHI HAI ABHI TAK?" her mother's voice exploded through the speaker.

Vani winced, holding the phone away. "Arrey dheere bolo na! Poore Jaipur ko apni awaaz sunani hai kya?"

Meera ignored her. "Subah uth gayi thi toh phir soyi kyu?"

Vani rubbed her eyes. "Uthi thi, par gas cylinder khatam nikla. Owner ne khali hi chhod diya tha. Khana nahi bana toh kya karti... so gayi."

"To order kar leti na kuch!" Meera scolded.

"Mmmmmm..."

"Subah se kuchh khaya bhi hai?"

"Alas aa raha tha..." Vani said, stretching like a lazy cat.

"Order karne mein ya khane mein?" her mom asked sarcastically.

"Khaane mein..." she said with a little laugh.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Vani perked up slightly. "Ok, mummy koi aaya hai... raat mein baat karti hoon," she said quickly, cutting the call before her mom could lecture her more.

Back at her place, Meera looked at the phone and shook her head. "Ye ladki bhi na..." she muttered, turning back to her housework.

Meanwhile, Vani dragged herself out of bed and shuffled toward the door. She opened it with half a frown.

"Hello ma'am, your cylinder," the man at the door said politely.

Vani blinked at him for a moment, then exploded.

"Abhi aaye ho? Ek mahine baad ate ? Subah se call kar rahi thi, message bhi drop kiya, aur ab aa rahe ho? Matlab insaan bhookha mar hi jaaye, haina?"

The delivery guy looked at her-wide-eyed and slightly terrified.

"Sorry ma'am," he said meekly. "Par yeh daant sir ko dijiye... call unke number pe jaati hai. Main toh sirf cylinder le aaya hoon..."

Vani opened her mouth to argue but paused. Then huffed. "Tum... khair chhodo. Chalo, ab andar cylinder laga do."

The guy held up his hands. "Sorry ma'am, yeh toh hamara kaam nahi hota."

Her eyes narrowed. "Tum chal rahe ho chup-chap ya nahi .... Agar cylinder blast hu mere lagane pe to me keh doongi you did it ?"

He blinked. "Okay ma'am, I'll do it."

A few minutes later, the cylinder was installed and the man quietly left, probably swearing never to deliver to her again.

Vani plopped back onto her bed, grabbing a pillow and burying her face into it. "Aaj bahut neend aa rahi hai... ab Pranvi aayegi tabhi uthungi. Tab order kar lenge kuch. Haan, yehi sahi rahega."

She yawned, pulling the blanket over herself.

"Chalo... good night, Vani," she muttered, even though it was barely 6 PM.

And within moments, she was out cold-again.

It was almost 8 PM when the front door creaked open.

Pranvi stepped inside, her bag hanging off one shoulder, tired but calm as always. She slipped off her shoes at the entrance and looked around the dimly lit room.

"Vani?" she called softly.

No response.

She walked toward the bedroom and found her exactly where she expected-curled up under the blanket like a human burrito.

"Vani..." she said again, nudging her.

"Mmm..." came a sleepy grumble from the depths of the comforter.

"Did you sleep this whole time?"

"Wapas mat uthao mujhe..." Vani's muffled voice protested.

Pranvi raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess-you still haven't eaten?"

Vani peeked out like a child caught in mischief. "I was waiting for you..."

"You've been asleep for hours," Pranvi said, dropping her bag on the chair.

"I didn't have a choice!" Vani whined. "The gas was gone, cylinder delivery guy showed up late, I almost fought him, then I got tired and-well, here we are."

Pranvi sighed, trying not to laugh. "You could've ordered something."

"I was saving that emotional moment for when you got home so we could suffer together."

"Wow. How generous." Pranvi chuckled. "So... what are we eating?"

Vani suddenly sat up. "That's the energy I was waiting for. Should we go with pizza or momos? Or biryani? Or all three?"

"I just came from the hospital, not a hunger strike rally," Pranvi said, giggling.

Vani clasped her hands dramatically. "You're the sensible one, you decide."

"Okay," Pranvi said, pulling out her phone. "We'll order veg biryani and something sweet-because clearly, your mood depends on sugar."

"Yes!" Vani shouted, throwing her hands up. "Finally, some direction in life."

As Pranvi placed the order, Vani looked at her, eyes twinkling. "Did I tell you today how amazing you are?"

"Twice yesterday," Pranvi said without looking up.

"Well, now it's three times. You're the real MVP."

They both laughed. For a moment, the tiredness of the day melted away into the comfort of their friendship, the promise of warm food, and a peaceful night ahead.

Thirty minutes later, the food had arrived.

Biryani. Gulab jamun. And, thanks to Vani's last-minute add-on, extra paneer tikka "just in case."

Pranvi sat cross-legged on the bed, half-asleep, picking lazily at her plate.

Vani, on the other hand, was sitting at the small study table, laptop open, scarf tied around her head like a warrior, multitasking between eating and typing.

"You know," she said, mouth full of biryani, "I really think I was a queen in my past life. Ruling kingdoms. Ordering food. Getting things done."

Pranvi blinked slowly. "You've been awake for two hours, Vani."

"And in these two hours," Vani pointed dramatically with a spoon, "I've cleaned the kitchen, paid the light bill, fixed our Wi-Fi, submitted my assignment, AND made a to-do list for tomorrow. Meanwhile, you're... wilting like old coriander."

Pranvi groaned and let her head fall back against the headboard. "You do realize I've been examining patients since 9 AM? One pretended to have a brain tumor to skip school."

Vani grinned. "Legend. I'd vote for that kid."

Pranvi just shook her head.

Vani stood and walked over to her with a sticky gulab jamun in hand. "Here. Sugar. Emergency energy dose."

Pranvi looked up at her like a grateful, overworked puppy. "You're spoiling me."

"That's what roommates are for." Vani plopped down beside her. "Now eat this and tell me-what's the deal with that tumor case? You looked like a detective on a Netflix series when you opened that file yesterday."

Pranvi sighed, chewing thoughtfully. "It's complicated. The tumor's in a sensitive spot-left temporal lobe. He's stable for now, but... I might have to push for surgery if symptoms progress."

Vani nodded, serious now. "You're handling it?"

"Yeah. Ishan handed it to me."

Vani smirked. "Oho. Look at you. Earning his trust and his files."

Pranvi rolled her eyes. "It's not like that."

"Yet," Vani teased, then stood up again. "Okay, enough flirting-via-medical-report. Let's focus. We have a birthday party to attend this weekend and you're wearing something other than your sad beige kurta."

"You mean my professional beige kurta?" Pranvi defended.

"No, I mean your dead-plant beige kurta," Vani corrected. "Now that the food's done, I'm planning outfits, booking a salon slot, and maybe even finding you some eyeliner that doesn't scream 'I haven't slept in years.'"

"Wow," Pranvi laughed. "Who even are you tonight?"

"A goddess of productivity, obviously," Vani said, twirling in her loose tee and messy bun.

Pranvi leaned back and watched her. "Honestly? I'm glad you're like this. Keeps me from turning into a complete hospital zombie."

"Good," Vani said, pulling out her planner. "Bec

ause tomorrow morning, I'm waking you up at 7. Yoga. Then tea. Then skincare. Then brunch."

Pranvi groaned. "I regret everything."

Vani smirked. "Too late. You've accepted my friendship. No refunds."

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