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It all happened too fast.

His foot slipped.

His balance faltered.

“Daadu!” Nandini’s scream tore through the villa like a jagged crack of thunder.

She watched in frozen horror as his body pitched backwards. The sound of his slipper scraping the edge of the marble step was followed by a heart-stopping thud as his frame slammed into the staircase, then rolled—limp and lifeless—down the remaining steps.

The air left her lungs.

Time slowed down.

Her knees hit the floor before her mind could register the fear. Her trembling hands reached for him, her fingers curling around his shoulder, his arm, anywhere she could touch him.

“Daadu?” she choked out, her voice breaking as fear overtook the initial shock. “Daadu, can you hear me? Please... say something!”

His eyes fluttered shut.

His shallow, staggered breathing sent fresh rush of terror down her spine. Behind her, Lakshmi Aunty screamed in panic, dropping the tray of curd and parathas she was holding. It hit the floor with a loud crash, porcelain shattering in all directions.

“Call the doctor! Call someone!” Nandini cried in panic, tears streaming down her face as Lakshmi Aunty hurried to grab her phone.

Nandini knelt beside her grandfather’s slumped form, her one hand holding his, her other stroking his head gently, her own body shaking uncontrollably.

“Daadu, please open your eyes,” she sobbed.

The new year had just begun. But within the walls of Raichand Villa, it already felt cursed.

And just then, she felt it. A sudden shift in the air. She looked up through her tear-blurred vision and saw a shadow moving fast across the foyer—tall, purposeful, his eyes wide with alarm.

Shaurya.

He was already through the door, his strides long and urgent, as their eyes locked across the chaos.

“Help.” That was all Nandini could manage to say.

Shaurya dropped to his knees beside them, taking in the sight of the unconscious old man.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered Lakshmi Aunty, who was already fumbling with her phone, her hand shaking.

His hand reached for Keshav Raichand’s wrist, checking for a pulse. Relief flickered in his expression as he found it, though it was faint.

Then his gaze turned to Nandini’s pale face and teary eyes.

“Is he breathing?” she asked, barely able to speak.

“Yes,” Shaurya replied quickly. “But we need to move him carefully. He could have hit his spine or leg.”

Nandini nodded, but the tears didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

All she could do was kneel there, clutching her grandfather’s fragile hand as everything around her felt like it was spiralling out of control. But in that chaos, she wasn’t entirely alone.

Unexpectedly and ironically, it was her grumpy, rude, impossible neighbour who was right there beside her, offering his quiet strength, helping her through a moment she never imagined facing.

CHAPTER 10