POV: Preeti
The flight back from Mrs. Patel's party felt interminable, each minute stretched thin by the weight of the revelation I carried. My mind was a tempest of emotions: shock, disbelief, and an icy dread that gnawed at my insides. Diya was alive. The woman who had once been a ghost haunting the fringes of my marriage was now flesh and blood, and her return promised nothing short of catastrophe.
By the time the car pulled up to our secluded bungalow, my nerves were frayed. The opulent walls that had once felt like a sanctuary now seemed suffocating. I paused at the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the handle. I needed to be strong, for Manav, for Arya, but the weight of what I had to say threatened to crush me.
Inside, the soft glow of the lamps and the faint sound of Arya
