At the tender age of five, the absence of her caregivers was unbearable. It was upsetting to come home to an empty house and only a nanny who wasn't quite bothered with her other than doing the bare minimum required. She missed the warmth and love from her mom. She missed the reassurance and smile of her dad after school and when she didn't do well on a test.

I guess mom was still nice sometimes. I know she still cares. But dad. I don't even know him anymore. And that knowledge sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the chaos brewing in my head.

She didn't quite grasp the concept of the void she felt inside. It didn't hinder her daily activities. She was still happy and a relatively normal person. There wasn't an urge to consistently defy authoritative figures and rebel against everything. Her mental health was fine from what she could tell. She was on a plateau. Yet there was this empty spot hammered into her chest by her expectations being crushed over and over again by the people she expected to look after her. There are moments when it becomes overwhelming and all she wants is to quell the dull ache.

It only seems to stop when she's around the people that she loves. The ones she can count on to hold her through the night.

Eight-year-old Ragini sniffled under the piles of blankets she was covered in. she wiped at them uselessly. They didn't stem instead fell faster than she could get rid of them. A cry of frustration left her lips before she slapped her hand over her mouth and stiffened her small body. This wasn't her house. She prayed to whoever was sitting up there that her scream didn't wake the Singhanias up. The clock ticked in eerie silence and Ragini watched the door like a hawk.

She knew this feeling. "It's called missing someone." She felt it many times since her parents started to make more trips overseas.

After a rough day at school, all she wanted was to be greeted with a kiss on the cheek and a hug from her mother and father. Instead, she was at her best friend's residence in one of their guest rooms vainly crying herself to sleep.

The young child tore her scrunched gaze from the cream door to the pale ceiling when no one came through. She didn't know if that was better or worse.

She was starving for physical closeness and emotional warmth.

A child that young doesn't know what these terminologies mean. They don't know what it means to be feeling lonely. What it feels like to face a cruel unforgiving world without guidance. But Anjali was a grown adult- a mother. She knows what this is. She can see the toxic stress hormones doing their job. She acts immediately covering the distance from the door to the bed in seconds.

"Ragini," she sets a gentle tone, pulling the cover back slightly to reveal the child in the fetus position looking at the roof. She seemed to freeze as if just registering the adult's presence.

"Aunt Anjali?" she blinked confused. Then her eyes widened slightly and an apologetic look covered her features. "Sorry. I woke you up. I didn't mean to"

"It's okay, darling. Why were you crying?" She asked to shift so she was leaning against the headboard with Ragini cradled in her lap. "Did something happen at school?"

"Bad day. I don't think the test went well," she mumbled against her older woman's chest. She didn't know why but she felt calm in her presence. Maybe it was the hug and warmth she was finally receiving. Either way, Ragini was thankful for it.

"Oh, that's okay. We can't learn if we don't make mistakes. Failure is the road to success."

"But I won't get a good grade."

"You will for your next test when you find out what you did wrong this time. I'll even get Aditya to go through it with you. I am sure he would be happy too."

Ragini looked up at her with her mouth slightly agape. "Really?"

"Of course." Anjali planted a kiss on her forehead.

The child settled into her comfortable position again and allowed herself to drift off. "Thank you."

Anjali smiled and began to rock the primary school kid to sleep. She hummed a tune softly into the quiet night. "Mommy used to sing that. I miss her." That was the thought Ragini went to sleep with that day.

She couldn't express how grateful she was to the signanias who without hesitation took it upon themselves to stand in for her parents. She owed what she was today to them. But now at the age of eighteen, she finally understood what the hole was.

Ragini Khanna was, despite all, a victim of parental neglect. There was no one else responsible other than the woman that stood in front of her right now and her husband of hers who was nowhere to be seen.

The two teenagers didn't expect to see Sanjana standing in the living room when they came through the door. They stopped a few feet in front of the threshold, glanced at the married couple briefly and finally settled on the woman in question. Divya took a step forward, pushing Ragini behind her protectively. There wasn't anything that would actually endanger her but she did it anyway. "Why is she here?" she hissed at the insult to all caregivers, not even bothering to conceal her malic and hatred.

"I was going to ask the same question, mommy dearest."

---broken promises---

Hatred sets off after a sizzle of fire. It is a wildfire that spreads across his limbs, charring everything in its wake. He can't stop it, only letting it encompass his very being. The flames sitting just outside of reach. Occasionally his fingertips graze the heat and he flinches back immediately. It's almost draining on days all he wants to feel is hurt and not hatred. But they are unfortunately accomplices.

But In time Lakshya learned that hatred is a pointless waste of time and he began to understand that it is a marker of love misused. It comes from a place of hurt and is acceptable to feel that way. Instead of being vacuumed by it, he lived alongside it. He learned how to be its master.

As the occasional internal words on these documents were read by him, the wildfire spread. He willed it around like a master, putting out the sparks just before they could erupt into a ball of fire that would swallow him whole.

Shikar sighed for the umpteenth time that day. "Remind me again how this is going to work."

"For starters, it's not going to work if you continue sitting there and watching me instead of helping.'' Lakshya scowled from his position on the ground. He was picking up the papers that had fallen off a cupboard when they tried moving it.

"I am comfortable," the younger boy shrugged his shoulders. They were teenagers. How were they supposed to do what Lakshya suggested? "This was your idea."

Sweat framed at this dark eyebrow that he wiped off in a swift motion before wiping it on his pants. "It was your idea to check the garage that had been abandoned for decades. Of anything you should definitely be the one cleaning this up."

"That was before I found out it was a dorm for sinister ploys.'' He gave a lopsided smile and wiggled his fingers for dramatic effect.

"That's dramatic. even for you." Lakshya commented, sounding absolutely done with his brother. "Can you just get your ass here and help me already?"

"Bossy," Shikar muttered under his breath. He hopped off the rusty table and began picking up the papers scattered around. He wanted to help those kids just as much as his brother. But he wasn't about to be stupid about it neither will he let Lakshya. Handing over their findings to the police would be a sound option. Hopefully, they would be willing to reopen the case. What am I saying, of course, they would. This is basically what they have been looking for for years. His stomach dropped as more and more paper piled up on the table. How many lives did this asshole destroy?

Shikar didn't think he could hate his father even more than he already did. Yet, here he was cursing him with all the colourful language he could think of. "Lucky, it's going to take hours like this. There are at least a few thousand profiles here. We need to get the cleaners to help us out."

Despite every bone in him protesting the idea of involving anyone else, Lakshya agreed. They called the cleaners in and together finished off making the room look a little more presentable. It wasn't the best. wood was still chipping off the edges of tables. It still smelled like a thousand rats died in there and the paint was wearing off giving it an even more gloomy look that matched its contents of it.

"So what now?" Shikar asked, stretching out his limbs. It was a moot question. They could have left it for tomorrow or another day when they were well rested. He could tell just by looking at the dust coating the papers that the ink of some may have faded along with time. They had been in here more than a few hours if the darkened sky was anything to go by.

"We sort them out." the guitarist said warily, eying the stacks of papers.

The drummer grumbled, throwing his hands up in the air. "Why didn't villains digitise their data back then."

"Cause that was still the early two thousands," Lakshya moved closer to the table that the papers had been placed on. He contemplated for a few seconds on how to arrange them. Year, age, gender. There were quite a few options. "Okay. we can do this." he nodded, wiggling his hands.

"How?"

"These are records of child trafficking rights. That means there are kids that were sold and there are kids that were...received," he cringed at the use of diction written on the front of the files and papers. "So we go about separating them from the kids that they gave away from our country to the kids that came to Mumbai. Since that is already written down it will be faster. After that, we can separate them further."

As they got to work, shikar kept glancing at his older brother, trying to figure out if he was okay. He knows how hard this is for him. After all, in some ways, he still held himself accountable for what happened. From what he could gather, Lakshya was determined more than anything. "Are you okay?" he asked finally.

"Yeah," he answered absentmindedly. His focus was taken wavy from the task at hand when shikar slapped him about the head. "What the..."

"Are you really okay with this?" he questioned again.

The guitarist thought about it for a second. The old him would have probably burned the place down the minute he discovered what these were. He would be furious, guilty and go into a state of being alone.

But now, he doesn't need to do that. There was nothing to be guilty about. Sure, he still hated his father with a strong passion but he wasn't pissed at himself. This was an opportunity to do what he wanted all along. Help the children that lost their happy lives in this dirty game of child trafficking.

"I am fine. I'm happy in fact. This is what I've wanted to do all along. Help these children. Maybe this is it."

"The kids on here could be in their adult years by now. The pictures are at least thirteen years old if we count from the time dad got arrested."

"I know but," Lahskya rubbed his hand over his face in exhaustion. "I have to try shikar. There has to be some information in these files that can locate the families of these children."

Shikar held his gaze for a while. He ran over possible scenarios of how this could turn over really good or really bad. Maybe the kids had found a nice family, were settled in them and didn't want to go back to their old lives. Maybe they were in foster care and liked it there. Maybe prying into forgotten trauma would cause a psychotic break. Maybe some families mistook other children as their own with them looking alike. With the happiness of having their loved one back, the fallacy hadn't dawned on them. Taking that away could trigger a series of unfavourable events.

On the flip side, they could find the families and children in the same city and are able to reunite them. Maybe informing the families about the orphanages the kids were in would get them together again. They could travel to the country to meet their child if Lakshya and he were unable to. Maybe going back home could help with the childhood trauma. Being around people one was familiar with, even just sitting in silence could be comforting to many.

With so many years in between, anything was possible. Maybe, just maybe, what Lakshya was trying to do would work. Every cloud has a silver lining. Hopefully.

Shikar finally relented. "Well, if you say you are happy then I believe you. And I promise, brother. I will be there for you. Every step of the way.'' Shikar ended off by snaking his arms around his brother and pulling him in for an embrace.

Lakshya chuckled slowly and returned the gesture. "I know, little bro. Thank you."

"Anytime. Now," he separated, going back to his portion of documents. "Let's break a leg."

"I am pretty sure it will break a leg."

"Whatever. There's still leg breaking involved."

"That's not a very normal statement to make," he snorted and paused, musing over the word 'normal'. "Hey shikar. Do you find it weird that the police raided the whole house but the place filled with everything that they needed was left untouched?"

Shikar rounded on him, eyes wide as something finally seemed to click. "Oh my god. That's it," when Lakshya gave him a confused look, he explained. "That day, there was this officer who was assigned to me where dad spent most of his time when you and mom weren't looking. I told him the garage and he went over to the in-charge and whispered something in his ear. Wasn't he the one who stopped anyone from going to the garage?"

"The in charge or the officer?"

"in charge. Remember he said, keep your search to the house. They didn't go through anywhere else, to begin with."

"That means that the search party was probably involved with him. But why would skipping these matter if he was already arrested."

"I don't know. For fun maybe," he said seriously.

The older of the two raised a single eyebrow clearly unamused. He pondered for a bit before whipping out his phone to search news articles about the incident. He scrolled until a certain press release compelled his attention. He skimmed through it quickly. "That son of a..." he trailed off slamming his palms on the table with enough force to send one of the loose legs to tip over slightly.

"Cool it toe rag," shikar was quick to steady the shaking table. It would be a headache to have to pick up the pacers and sort them out again.

"Lack of evidence. The court didn't have this as evidence to hang him. That's why he has only been sentenced to life imprisonment, not death."

"What are you talking about? They had evidence. That's why he is in jail."

Lakshya held out his phone to the news article for shikar to read. "According to this press release, they suspected him of being involved and because of witness testimonies he was believed to be the ringleader. But they didn't have actual proof that would guarantee a death sentence. How could they when the whole time, they were barking at the wrong tree."

Shikar blew out a breath slowly. It was becoming a lot to process. He decided to focus on the easiest thing to understand. "Well looks like father Maheshwari has been walking around with the system wrapped around his finger. Who knows how many more corrupted bugs there are helping him."

"So that means we can't go to the police. Well played Mr Maheshwari." Lakshya scoffed. His nails dug into the soft words that cried out in protest of being stabbed into. All these years he took his father to be a horrible, revulsion-worthy, disgraceful man. Turns out he is also a criminal mastermind that knows how to cover his own ass. There was that feeling again. Scalding hot as it soared through his veins and settled in his burning chest. Hatred.

"We can't. Which means that it is time to call in..."

"don't say it," Lakshya warned, gripping the table tighter than he had been.

"The cavalry.'' Shikar completed, blatantly ignoring the interruption.

Lakshya trampled down the desire to cause his brother bodily harm. "PI. we get private investigators to help us. And never, never say those words again."

"Nope. I will. You're a nerd."

"Whatever. I promise those kids," the guitarist straightened up staring at a picture of a victim on the table. "They will get justice."

---broken promises---

Drishti wondered if this is what it feels like to be around people that she liked or at least was comfortable around. After spending years isolating herself from everyone around her, it was a welcome change. In the room where she spent hours staring off into space, in the robotic notions she went through day in and day out, she felt like a surfactant drowning. Trying to break the surface of the water but almost never succeeding. In there, it was a vacuum. The sounds around muffled and heavy shackles pulled her in more and more. The splashing and yelling aren't present. It's quiet and subtle.

But it's not like that anymore. At this moment the water surface has been broken. There is air all around. And Drishti can finally breathe.

"Rakkshit," she started keeping the fork down on the plate. She waited for him to look at her before continuing. "I- I just wanna say thank you."

"You're welcome but for what?" he frowned.

The class parent picked up the fork once again and moved the food around her plate. She had grown to trust him. He was a nice man. I should tell him about divi. At the same time, however, she wasn't ready. "For the longest time in my life, I remember spending days focusing on school, work and nothing else. It was like I forgot what he means to live and it's scary to think I thought that was normal or that it was perfectly healthy," he explained.

Rakshit dropped his food and gave her his full attention. Something told him this was going to be another breakthrough but he needed to make sure Drishti wasn't feeling obliged to do this. That this was of her own choice. "Drishti, are you comfortable sharing this with me? Because it's perfectly fine if you aren't ready."

"I am ready. To share this at least," she smiled at his concern. He is a nice guy. "Now that I've actually started talking to people, it's not so lonely anymore. My parents and I have even grown closer. We have started having actual conversions. I can't remember when we last had them."

"I am happy to hear that. Trust me, It only gets better from here on out."

"Can't wait. By the way, you didn't answer my question." She reminded him to change the subject.

Rakshit went back to his food taking the hint. "Which one?"

"Where is your holiday destination?"

"Rio de Janeiro."

"Let me guess. Romi."

"No, I saw it in the movie Rio so I wanted to go there."

Drishti unceremoniously dropped her utensils, choking on her carbonara and coughed. Grabbing the glass of water the counsellor has offered, she chugged it down in one go. She gasped for air for a couple of seconds. After almost getting death by choking she howled with laughter.

Rakshit pretended to look annoyed but his lips twitched upwards slightly. "Trying to commit suicide I see."

"I am sorry but...seriously... you- you wanna go to Rio because of a blue parrot." she looked at him dumbfounded and got out the sentence between laughs.

"Yes and don't insult blu. He was a cute macaw." Rakshit defended getting a slight blush on his neck at the prospect of defending a kid's movie.

Drishti raised her hands in derisive surrender. "Fine. I suppose we can get past this occurrence. I am sure it's a once in a blu moon. Pun intended." she chuckled as the blush crept from his neck to cheeks.

"That's coming from the girl who wants to visit Singapore because she had a conversation with a borderline dangerous student she got stuck with, in the jungle." he blurted in a last-ditch attempt to get the attention off him. The look on the teacher's face made him regret it. He scrambled to apologize only to get cut off with a surprising statement.

"Well when you put it that way, it sounds morbid," she enunciated slowly before what he said registered. "She is not dangerous." Drishti defended, slightly annoyed by the number of people misjudging them.

"Her temper is. The girl won't hesitate to break someone's teeth." he finished his meal and pushed the plate away slightly. Using the napkin to wipe with his hands and mouth, he turned to meet her raised eyebrow gaze. "what?"

The woman considered him carefully. "I feel like you haven't heard the announcement from that day."

"I did. I am just sceptical." he shrugged.

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to hold in the groan bubbling up her throat. "They are really trying to change Rakshit. I've seen it and I don't think their efforts should be disparaged."

"It's probably temporary."

"People can change, Rakshit. Just look at me. And I bumped into Divya that day. She didn't do anything, instead, she helped me bring the books to the staff room."

He nodded his head. The rumour had been propagated around school all week. Most people were shocked but accepted that they were trying to change. Another group of them believed that this attitude will last longer than a couple of weeks. He belonged to the latter group of people. It was almost hypocritical of him seeing as he was a counsellor. The session clearly told him that she wasn't totally apathetic and did possess the ability to reflect. Until he had more proof or another session- a good session, he couldn't jump the gun.

"It's just a matter of time. Within the next few weeks. It will be back to square one," He said. "As for the book incident, I know that before she left you guys had another spat."

"It's not as bad as Ms Andrews made it sound. I am aware of what's being said around the office too," she sighed and finished up her meal as well. There was no way she was going to let this date ended like this. "I have a proposal."

"Don't you think it's too soon..."

"Not that proposal," she swatted his hand and tried to hide her red cheeks with her hair. "Let's agree to disagree. For now. wait it out at the end of the year and see who was right. Deal?" she asked, holding out a pinky.

"deal," The man intertwined their pinky and nodded. They stood up and settled the bill before leaving the restaurant and walking along the riverside. "So would you be up to doing this again?" he asked tentatively, rubbing the nape of his neck.

Drishti decided to tease him for a bit. "Doing what? the walking, lunch, debate or..."

He stopped walking and grabbed her wrist. Drishti hitched her breath in anticipation. He stared at her for a couple of seconds.

She was far from being clueless. I know he is going to ask me out. The question is what my answer will be? Honestly, she knew what it was. He is a nice guy. I think I like him.

Hoping the class parent didn't notice his shaking hands he grabbed her soft ones in his. He waited for any signs of discomfort but saw none. She was looking at him with anticipation. "Drishti Sharma would you want to go on a date with me again?" he waited patiently as her shocked face turned into a happy one.

"I would love that." she grinned.

Rakshit couldn't stop the wide smile that reached far beyond his eyes. "Thank you."

There was no denying the feelings but Drishti had to be fair. To herself and him. "But I don't want to rush this. I'm still working on being a little more open to people. I wanna go slow. If that's okay with you."

"Always. Drishti, I like you and we will do this at your pace. Anytime you don't feel okay, just tell me. I promise I'll do everything to help you."

"Are you courting me?"

"Yes, I want you to be absolutely sure about this Drishti. I am aware of my attraction to you. It's not love. That doesn't mean it can't be. Until then, let's get to know each other better. To be certain about our feelings."

Drishti nodded happily and they continued walking in comfortable silence until Rakshit broke it.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look today? Or every day for that matter."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Well you look beautiful Drishti," Drishti blushed at the unabashed accolades. "Even more when you do that."

"Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself."

Rakshit brought her soft palms up to his plum lips planting a chaste kiss on them.

"You know, it's always good to have a dessert after a meal."

"Ice cream?" she suggested.

"Ice cream it is then," he confirmed. "Come on I know a fantastic store down the block." he gently tugged her along.

It was a good day.

Drishti couldn't believe how her life had turned around in the last few months since she joined S.P.A.C.E. Her relationship with her parents had improved tremendously. It's not like it was damaged before but ever since Divya left; something changed. After years of subtle awkward interactions, it felt like that something was going away. In fact, the teacher couldn't wait to tell her mom about her date.

She had someone who was nice to her and treated her right. She didn't need to close herself up to him. She was free and that was thanks to him.

Above all, she improved her relationship with herself. There was no longer this nagging feeling that her soul was lagging behind her body. An out-of-body experience. It wasn't there anymore. She could look herself in the eye and see someone who wanted more from life. To live it to the full extent. The guilt was still there and always will be but it was no longer weighing her down.

She has given up the hope of someday meeting her sister. It's still there, bright as ever. But she doesn't let it blindside her. She uses it to overcome the darkness and emerge from the shadows every morning.

I think I can finally move on.

A/N: Don't forget to R&R! 

Romance is not my cup of tea but i tried. Anyways, do let me know your thoughts on the storyline, the writing, the characters, the good and the bad! 

With that, this is the end of the first book. I'll be posting the second book of this series soon! stay tuned and do leave your precious feedback.