Episode 6 : "Hope life doesn't come back to return Favor"
892 Words
(Neha’s POV)
It was 2 a.m., but I couldn’t sleep.
My arm throbbed slightly beneath the bandages, but that wasn’t what kept me awake. My mind kept drifting back to that moment—the shot, the blood, the face of the man I had saved.
Who was he?
He had such a commanding presence, like someone powerful. His eyes were fierce, but when he looked at me… I don’t know. There was something else in them.
I reached over to the side table and picked up the folded note Rohit had given me at the hospital.
I slowly opened it and read:
“To the girl who didn’t hesitate to save a stranger’s life... thank you.
If there’s ever anything you need, this world owes you.
You were brave when you didn’t have to be. That makes you extraordinary.”
Thank you, brave girl.
– D.K."
Neha’s eyes fell on the logo on the envelope. She traced the lion’s sharp eyes, noticing how its mane melted into the globe.
"The logo bore the image of a majestic lion’s head, its mane subtly morphing into a globe, with continents woven into its fur and fine lines of longitude and latitude running across it. At the lion's forehead, where its strength radiated, was a small golden laurel — a timeless symbol of wisdom and peace."
“Who the hell is D.K. and what does this logo represent ?” I whispered to myself.
At first glance, it screamed power—untamed and regal. But a closer look revealed something deeper. The lion wasn’t roaring. It was watching, calm yet unchallenged. Dominant, but not cruel. Fierce, but not heartless.
I placed the note back down and sighed. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. I tried to shut my eyes and sleep, but questions danced in my mind like wild flames.
---
(Third Person POV)
The next morning, Neha woke up to find Disha already bustling around the kitchen, her face still tight with worry.
"You're not going to work today," Disha said firmly as she set a bowl of porridge on the table.
"But I’m fine," Neha protested.
"You're not. Your arm is bandaged. You're going to rest today, and that's final," Disha snapped.
Neha groaned. “Ugh, you sound like a grumpy nurse.”
“Grumpy nurse who loves you and doesn’t want you passing out in a bakery.”
Neha smiled softly. “Thanks, Disha.”
They ate in silence for a few moments before Disha spoke again.
“You really don’t remember who that man was? The one you saved?”
Neha shook her head. “No. But his name—or at least his initials—are D.K. That’s what he wrote in the note.”
Disha frowned. “D.K.? Sounds like one of those mafia-type names from Netflix thrillers.”
Neha laughed. “You and your wild theories!”
“I’m serious! Imagine if he is some mafia kingpin. You could’ve just saved Delhi’s biggest gangster.”
“Well,” Neha said with mock drama, “if he’s dangerous, let’s just hope he doesn’t come back to return the favor.”
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(Elsewhere – D.K.'s POV)
I stood at my office window, staring out at the bustling streets below.
Her face kept flashing in my mind.
That girl… Neha.
I didn’t even know her last name. But she didn’t hesitate—not even for a second—before throwing herself in front of that bullet. For me.
People fear me. They obey me, follow my orders, do my bidding. But no one had ever done something like that for me.
“Sir,” Rohit said, stepping in. “We found her information. Neha . Twenty-three. Works two jobs. Lives in a small apartment in Saket with her friend. Orphan background. No family.”
I turned, facing him fully. “No family?”
Rohit nodded. “Only one close contact. Her best friend—Disha.”
I clenched my jaw. That girl had been through a lot.
“She saved my life, Rohit. Keep an eye on her.”
“Sir?”
“Discreetly. Make sure she’s safe. If she ever needs anything, it should be handled before she even asks.”
“Yes, sir.”
I walked back to my desk, but her face wouldn’t leave my mind. The way she smiled despite the pain…
Why did it affect me like this? Why did I feel a connection?
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(Neha’s POV)
The next two days were strangely peaceful.
Disha kept a watchful eye on me, and Anu Aunty insisted I rest. I stayed home, read books, tried new dessert ideas in my notebook, and occasionally wondered if I’d ever see D.K. again.
But something else began to bother me.
I noticed strange things—like the auto arriving right on time when I stepped outside, or the fruit vendor offering me a discount before I even asked.
One day, a parcel showed up at our door.
Inside was a box of exotic chocolates with a note:
> “For the sweetest girl who saved a life. From a grateful stranger.”
No name.
Just like the note from the hospital.
Disha looked at me, alarmed. “You sure he’s not stalking you?”
I didn’t answer. Because deep down, I didn’t feel afraid.
I felt… protected.
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- Writer
