Vivek is coming back today.

After five full days, he is coming back, and safe to say a lot has happened in this house since he left, or at least that’s what Mishti likes to think.

Any inhibitions or awkwardness that her employer seemed to possess mere days earlier was thrown out of the window. He no longer ignored her or avoided eye contact. Four days out of five she had eaten the dinner with him on the dining table, three days out of which he had cooked the food. The fourth day had been a combined effort and well the fifth day, her wound had – unfortunately – completely healed. 

Tough luck.

However, the point is that today her nemesis will come back and would once again start manoeuvring back and forth his beloved – but not in that way – ‘Samrat sir’, trying to prove that how he is better than her. But she’ll make what she can of the time left.

Currently, it’s nine in the morning, and Samrat is almost done with his breakfast, ready to go to work that he hadn’t gone to since last four days what Mishti likes to think because of her……inability as a cook! Except that his tie is hanging around his neck, and the man is making no effort to tie it. Does he plan to go to his work like that?

“Do you plan on going to your work like this?” Mishti voices her thought, interrupting the man from taking the last sip of his coffee. 

“Hmm?” he takes that last sip, and puts the cup on the plate, turning himself towards her.

She feels hesitant under the sudden attention but asks what’s in her mind, nonetheless.

“That. Are you going to the office like that?” she asks gesturing to the untied accessory making Samrat look down at it as well, his mouth then opening into a small ‘o’, a slightly sheepish look overcoming his face from which it recovers quickly, his gaze flitting between her face to his tie that end up with him leaning back in his chair, languidly crossing one leg over the other.

“Ahh, you’re talking about the tie?” 

Mishti nods.

“Well, you see it has always been Vivek who helped me with it,” Samrat says, an amused glint evident in his eyes. “Sadly, my entitled self never learnt how to knot it, being surrounded with this staff and of course, my valet, you see….” 

Mishti’s brows raise to her hairline as she hears the man saying what he just said. Is he roasting himself or showing off his wealth? Guess she’d never know but what she knows is that whatever he is doing, he is doing it purposely, if his barely their smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

Mishti admits that the next words that she says are impulsive even for her and that is saying something.

“I can help you with it.” 

She realizes how foolish she sounds as soon as she says those words, though before she has the time to regret it, the smirk on Samrat’s face grows, bordering towards a genuine smile. 

He cocks his head to the side, raising a brow. “Will you?”

Mishti nods, albeit unsurely.

Samrat raises another brow. “Why would you?” And the way he asks, with a hint of challenge in his eyes and mirth swimming in his eyes, makes any whisper of hesitance vanish from Mishti’s face, as she cocks her head to the side and sassily replies --

“I’m here to serve the entitled, so why not?” 

A surprised chuckle leaves Samrat’s mouth at the answer, as he hands her the end of his tie without another word, the tips of his fingers brushing against her palm.

Mishti takes the tie and bends to his level, expertly avoiding any sort of eye contact as she knots the tie like she had done many times for her brother, even Ranveer though the man in front of her is neither her brother nor her friend, he is her …… 

Target?

Employer?

The man from four years ago that her heart had refused to let go of.

No, he is Samrat. And that alone is enough to make her nervous. 

Mishti steps back with a quiet cough. “It’s – It’s done.” She states the obvious. 

Samrat looks down at his knotted tie, adjusts his collar once before looking back at her. 

He graces her with that warm and rare smile before saying a sincere, “Thank you, Mishti.” And for the reason that she knows of but doesn’t want to accept, the words make her preen.

Though she can’t ponder on the reason too long as the phone in her pocket starts vibrating, making her excuse herself from the spot.

It’s her brother, and ironically it is his name flashing on the screen that makes her smile fade away. Not because she doesn’t think of him as her lifeline anymore but because she knows why he is calling her.

Mishti picks up the call. 

“Chutki! What took you so long to pick up the phone. Is everything all right?” as soon as she hears her brother’s warm, worried voice, the vanished smile once again finds her way to her face though it is as temporary as it can get. 

“No bhai, I’m good. What about you? Are you ok?” she asks taking a place on her bed, picking at a loose thread of her bedsheet.

“I am fine and have been spending the past two days at the agency. Daya sir’s death anniversary is in two days.” Mihir reveals and Mishti’s eyes widen, instantly misting because how could she forget that. The only person who had showered them with love and care at the orphanage from the day they had stepped inside it had died tomorrow years ago, the only person who had let them retain their childhood while the rest of the organization had been planning how to make the parentless children into criminals, their puppets. 

“Oh.”

Mishti still remembers that time clearly. The days and weeks and months and years that changed her life completely.

Mishti has just turned twelve and her brother has stopped eating food with her, petting her head till she sleeps or telling her about his day. In fact, Mishti barely gets to see her brother these days. And whenever she sees him, he never smiles. Not even while talking to her.

At first, she had thought that the reason behind his sadness was the death of their caring Daya uncle, or as everyone calls him, Daya sir. The same old man that had introduced them to this orphanage and had provided them with all the basic amenities as well as his love and support. His death was as painful for Mishti as the news of her parents being dead was. She had cried in her brother’s lap for hours but she had taught herself to be resilient. She had thought the same about her brother, but once he had come back from the evening prayers kept for the man, he had stayed silent. And then the committee started calling him to them every evening and Mishti started seeing less and less of him.

Mishti decides to share her worries with Ruhi. 

“It’s like he doesn’t love me anymore. Am I growing up to be a bad sister?” Mishti asks vulnerably, barely keeping herself from crying, her lower lip wobbling. 

Fourteen-year Ruhi coos, as she brings the girl close to her, letting her rest her head on her shoulder. 

“No, Mishti, don’t think like that. Mihir loves you very much and trust me when I say that he wants to spend time with you, but he is unable to. Even bhaiya is busy. I see him only once a day.” She reveals sadly, and Mishti nods on her shoulder.

“I think it’s the committee that has been keeping them busy. Them and the other students of their age, you know…. the sixteen- to eighteen-year-olds. I think they will tell us what’s it all about once they think it’s the right time.”

The right time comes four years later for Mishti when she turns sixteen and for the very first time is invited to the meeting that her brother and all her friends used to attend. Right now, though she sees only two familiar faces there – Ruhi and Ranveer. Mishti immediately rushes to their side.

Though when she smiles at them, they don’t smile back at her. Just like her brother didn’t use to. She feels her heart sinking to her stomach.

She immediately starts missing her brother, the same brother who now lives in a flat with Raghav bhaiya and comes to meet her every two days. Though now it’s been a whole week since she has seen him. But that’s ok, he had promised her that as soon as she’ll turn sixteen, he’ll come to get her, and they’ll stay together forever.

Today is the day, and she can’t wait to go back to her brother along with her friends.

“All the newcomers, please step aside. You’ll be getting arranged into groups of five and then will be told the tasks.” The head of the orphanage who took over Daya sir says, Mishti not liking his paan stained teeth and kohl-rimmed eyes one bit. He isn’t like Daya sir at all, who even though used to visit them only twice a week, used to bring smiles and happiness with him. 

Mishti looks back at Ruhi and Ranveer with panicked eyes when they tell her to step aside as well. Thankfully though, her friends look just as panicked and intervene.

“Sir, can Mishti stay with us? We have been doing this for two years now, and we have two even more experienced members in our group, Mihir and Raghav. I assure you that we’ll teach her everything very quickly.” Ruhi tells him with a sincere face, and Ranveer nods along with his sister. 

“Yes, sir. I promise you; we will be the most efficient group from here.”

The man in question hums, staring intently at Mishti and then at the teenagers. He finally nods.

“Ok, take her with you and make her understand each and everything. But let me remind you, if anything goes wrong, the result would not be in your favour.” He threatens and both the siblings nod furiously, taking Mishti by her hand and out of the orphanage gates. 

Before she can ask them, what this was all about, she sees him, her brother, leaning against a car that she doesn’t recognize, all her things already kept in it. 

“Bhai!” she exclaims before rushing towards him, who grins at her, opening his arms wide. Though opposite to what he had thought, Mishti doesn’t hug him but starts hitting his arm forcing a yelp out of him, the rest of their friends laughing at them. 

“Ow, Chutki, that hurts.” He states, crying and laughing at the same time. Though Mishti just scowls at him. “You didn’t come to meet me at all this week. I’m not talking to you.”

Mihir rubs at his neck with a sheepish smile, throwing an arm over her shoulder thereafter. 

“I’m sorry, Chutki, but I had to plan everything for you and all of us. We’ll all be staying together from now on. Just like I promised.” Mihir says excitedly flicking her nose, and Mishti can’t stifle the excited gasp that leaves her mouth even if she wants.

“Really?”

Mihir nods. 

This time Mishti jumps into his arms uninvited, making him choke on her hair that inevitably makes its way into his mouth.

It’s only when they all are settled into their new flat does Mishti face the bitter truth, the questions that are left unanswered.

“So, what are we supposed to do? What does the orphanage want from us?” she asks, and all her friends’ smiles vanish at the same time, even her brother’s.

“It’s not an orphanage for us anymore, Mishti. It’s agency. They’ll tell us the work and we’ll do it until we’ve paid them back every single penny that they have spent on us.” Raghav reveals remorsefully, a certain hardness overcoming his face. It makes Mishti nervous. 

“Paying? What are we supposed to do? Wh-What am I supposed to do? Bhai…?” she asks hesitantly her eyes nervously flitting around the room before settling on her brother. 

“You’ll be doing what we all have been doing for years, Chutki. You’ll rob people and con them. You will be telling lies.”

And Mishti has been lying since. 

She wonders if their Daya sir had been alive, would the situation have shaped itself differently?

If she wouldn’t have been sent to that orphanage.

If her parents had been alive. 

If….

“It’s time, Chutki.” Mishti’s train of thoughts is broken by her brother’s voice. “We’ve already received the third and the last task. You’ll have to steal a ceramic vase from his house.”

The words should have made Mishti happy. For once it’s nothing expensive that she has to steal but the only thing those words do is to plant doubt in her head. 

“A porcelain vase? But it barely costs a few thousands? Why would they want me to steal that? The watch and the transaction still made sense, but this?” she asks with evident confusion on her face, not forgetting the fact that she still hasn’t told her brother about what happened during the second task. 

“I know, Chutki. I’m as confused as you are and I’m trying to find the reason behind this. Once I’ll attend Daya sir’s prayer meet tomorrow, I’ll try to contact them and ask them about everything. But for now, we don’t have any option. We do as we are told.” Mihir frets, a resigned tone evident in his voice. Mishti can’t help but hum, a part of her getting relieved at the fact that this time she’ll not have to think about ways to fulfil Samrat’s losses, she’ll not have to feel guilty because surely a vase worth a few thousands wouldn’t matter to Samrat. He wouldn’t even notice it if luck is on her side. 

“I know, bhai. Don’t worry. I’ll do the task at once. You – You just take care of yourself.”

“I will, Chutki if you will.”

Mishti hangs up the call and looks at the blank screen with a wistful smile.

“You!”

It’s the second time that Mishti’s smile falls from her face that day, as she hears a shocked voice from behind her and turns around only to come face to face with him. 

“You liar!”