I bid Raghu goodbye, pressing a few oranges into his hands, Aunt Radha had stuffed them into my basket.

Back home, the air buzzed with restless energy. The clatter of brass utensils, the sizzle of frying spices, the hurried footsteps of maids all signs of an impending storm.

I found Ramya, the old maid, moving between the kitchen and the storeroom, her expression tight with urgency. She leaned close and whispered,

"Master is coming next month. Your aunt has already started making snacks."

A familiar weight settled in my chest. "Okay."

She frowned. "What is okay?"

I lifted my hand, forming a circle with my thumb and index finger, the other three fingers straight. "It means everything is fine. Like this."

Ramya's lips twitched in amusement. "Ah, I'll use this too."

Her gaze darted over my shoulder, and she stiffened. Aunt Radha was walking down the corridor, her gold bangles jingling, her sharp eyes scanning the room.

"Mini." Her voice was firm, expectant.

I turned.

"Your father will be home for a month. I want you to be your best behavior."

I hesitated. "Tomorrow.."

"You know that Witch." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Follow her bidding. Tomorrow, everything will return to normal."

A lump formed in my throat. I nodded.

"Stop nodding like a cow. No manners." But she softened, cupping my face and pressing a kiss to my cheek.

"Aunt "

"Shh." She slipped something into my hands. A small wooden box, its surface etched with delicate floral patterns. "Keep this with you. Open it when that woman asks you to."

A chill ran down my spine.

"I will."

"Good. Now eat your lunch and come up to the terrace. We have a lot of work to do."

"What?" I groaned.

"Sevai and kurdai won't make themselves. Come on, be a good girl."

I sighed but obeyed.

Because Vallabhrao was coming.

The man who would turn this mansion into ruins.

It was May, and according to the timeline, this house wouldn't see another summer.

And somehow, the house knew.

It stood tall, grand, but beneath the layers of dust and time, I could feel it crumbling as if it already carried the weight of its future.