Falling Destiny

Episode 28 : “Strings of Truth”

(Neha POV)

There’s something surreal about entering a life you don’t belong to.

That’s what I kept feeling the moment I stepped out of that sleek black Mercedes, standing at the gates of a mansion that looked like it had walked out of a dream—or maybe a movie. Even the breeze felt different here. Too calm. Too controlled.

I wasn't just nervous. I was trembling inside.

Not because I was stepping into a new job.

But because for the first time in six weeks… something felt like change. Like movement. Like maybe, just maybe… something was going to break the silence that Sanchit’s disappearance left behind.

I haven’t heard from him in six weeks.

Forty-two days.

A thousand moments.

And I have felt every single one of them like a heartbeat without a rhythm.

Every night I check my phone hoping there will be a text. A call. A missed notification. But nothing.

Just silence.

And Disha—she’s trying to be brave. For the baby. For herself. For Sanchit.

But I know she’s falling apart from within.

She thinks I don’t hear her crying in the washroom at night.

She thinks I don’t notice how her fingers linger over Sanchit’s chain he gave her, when she thinks I’m not looking.

But I do.

So when Veer Singh Roy—that stranger who saved me that terrifying night—offered me a chance to earn good money and support Disha, I said yes.

I didn’t know then how much his world would shake mine.

---

When I entered the mansion, I was stunned.

So many guards. Maids rushing around, polished floors that reflected everything. Chandeliers like stars caught in crystal cages. Everything was too… quiet. Too pristine.

Veer welcomed me personally, his smile calm, confident, but distant. He didn’t look like the man who’d thrown punches for me in a dark alley. No, this Veer looked like he belonged to empires. Cold. Composed. But oddly respectful.

He introduced me to his sister—Ruhani.

She was… beautiful. Graceful. With eyes that seemed too sharp for someone her age. But she smiled at me, warmly, and I felt oddly comforted. Like maybe I was safe here.

We went to the dance hall—a grand space with mirrors stretching from wall to wall, and a polished wooden floor that echoed every step. Ruhani was a quick learner, eager, and surprisingly humble. She asked questions, laughed when she got a step wrong, and smiled every time I corrected her.

But while I was teaching her the steps to the rhythm, I felt it again.

Eyes on me.

Not the innocent kind. Not the curious kind.

The kind that watched your every movement like they were calculating something behind the scenes.

When I turned slightly, I saw him.

Veer.

He stood leaning near the glass door, watching. Quiet. Unreadable.

His presence was intimidating—but not in a threatening way. More like… powerful. Like he could walk through a storm without flinching.

I dropped my gaze quickly, focusing on Ruhani’s movements, trying to act like I hadn’t noticed him. But my heartbeat had already picked up pace.

---

After the class, Ruhani offered me juice. She said she wanted to talk more about dance, about performances she loved, and even showed me a few dance videos on her phone. She was sweet, gentle. And yet… there was something unreadable about her too. Like a hidden layer beneath that smile.

Veer passed by once or twice. Polite nods. Brief words. He didn’t say much after introducing me earlier. But every time he was near, I felt like I was under a microscope.

As I sat there, sipping the cold juice, I couldn’t help but think…

Why is someone like him helping someone like me?

He could’ve asked for any top-tier dance tutor in the city. He could’ve chosen someone with more experience, more prestige. But he picked me. The girl he saved in the street.

Why?

There’s a part of me that feels thankful.

But another part… it whispers, be careful.

Because this doesn’t feel like luck.

This feels like something else.

---

On the ride back home, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Veer.

> "Thank you for today. Ruhani really liked you. Hope to see you tomorrow at 11:00 sharp. - Veer"

Short. Formal. Polite.

I replied with a simple:

> "Thank you, sir. Looking forward to it."

Another message pop up

> "Don't call me sir, just Veer"

I put the phone down, but the unease hadn’t left.

What if Sanchit’s still out there, hurt?

What if he needs us?

I watched the world blur outside the window. Streets passing by. People going about their normal lives.

And here I was, dancing in someone else’s world, trying to hold my pieces together, trying to keep Disha from breaking apart.

---

When I reached home, Disha was already preparing dinner. She looked better today—she had tied her hair up and was humming a little while chopping vegetables.

“Hey,” I smiled, placing my bag down, “How was your day?”

She smiled back faintly. “Managed not to throw up today. So… improvement.”

I laughed. She laughed. For a moment, it felt like the past hadn’t happened. Like we were still living in the world before everything went wrong.

But I saw it again—that distant look in her eyes when I mentioned Sanchit later.

“He’d be so happy to see you like this,” I said softly.

She didn’t respond.

Just quietly stirred the curry.

Maybe one day… he will see her again.

And maybe by then, we’ll both know what this new chapter with Veer really means.

Because I can’t help but wonder…

Is this the beginning of something healing?

Or the calm before another storm?