“How are you feeling now?”

“I’m fine, doctor.”

“That’s good to hear. Stay healthy, all right? I’ll see you in my next shift with the discharge papers.”

“Yeah.”

The doctor takes a leave but the girls sitting behind Mishti don’t.

Aisha shrieks and Ruhi giggles.

“He was totally flirting with you.”

As usual, an utterly ridiculous statement escapes Aisha’s mouth to which Mishti rolled her eyes. And yet there is a small smile on her face, liking the way they are all sitting together and even though her hands were yet to be free of the metaphorical handcuffs, she likes how they were free at least physically.

“You don’t say.” Ruhi agrees.

“Samrat would be jealous,” Aisha adds quietly, her voice filled with uncertainty, not knowing if she’s allowed to talk about the man yet or not, but the way Mishti just pokes her tongue at her at the comment, she exhales a breath of relief, poking her tongue back.

Mishti on the other hand looks at the man in question who sits outside the hospital room, visible from the glass door while her brother sits beside him, this time without any disguise, free. All her friends are.

Mishti knows it has something to do with Samrat but can’t find herself to care if the way he chose was legal or not. She’s the last person to think about ethicality and legality after all, no one was there to teach her that.

Though seeing the two men sitting side by side and yet trying to ignore each other as much as they can, was funny. Especially after reminiscing the fact how her brother had barged into the door yesterday and was sitting there utterly confused on why their former target was sitting on the bed with his sister, at a distance that he wouldn’t ever let strangers cross. Even if he knew that the man was the reason that he was freely being able to roam in the hospital, and not with the tag of a con artist or thief, he still had his fears. 

Trust was an expensive thing after all, far from their affordability.

Samrat on the other hand had been momentarily startled but had schooled his expressions immediately, clearing his throat and getting up from the bed, his gaze flitting between the brother-sister duo and settling on the latter. 

“I’ll see you.” Samrat had said to her, but Mishti hadn’t been able to reply anything, too busy avoiding eye contact with her brother, thinking all the answers that she could say should her brother ask her about anything.

Thankfully though, her brother had just walked in and sat on the bed, giving Samrat a civil nod who returned the gesture walking out of the room. He had then given his sister the tenderest of smiles, gently caressing her head and Mishti had smiled in return, putting her head on his shoulder. 

From the corner of her eyes, she had seen Samrat turning around for a moment and smiling at the scene before walking out of her line of sight.

Mishti is shaken out of her reverie with a knock on the door, her gaze falling on the woman who enters through it, wearing a sky-blue kurta and jeans, around her neck hangs an Id card just like it does on the clueless first years in the university or a journalist.

Mishti doesn’t think that she is a student.

She looks outside the glass window but is unable to find any sign of her brother or Samrat. 

She suddenly feels nervous, though thankfully she has her friends to answer on her behalf.

“Yes? How may I help you?” Aisha asks in an abrupt tone, while Ruhi takes a more polite approach.

“Perhaps you are in the wrong room. We don't know you.” She says gently but the woman standing in front of them just rolls her eyes. 

It is at that moment Mishti thinks that maybe she has met that woman before. 

“Of course, you don’t know me. But Mishti does and I am here for her. Samrat called me.” The woman replies and her two friends turn their heads towards her, shocked. 

“Oh, I am equally shocked. God knows why I agreed to this.” The woman exclaims, a scoff escaping her mouth.

Mishti still doesn’t remember how she can be barely associated with the woman who smirks in return.

“I am Sakshi, Sakshi Ranne. Samrat’s ex-wife if you’d recognise me like that, and the journalist who is going to be asking you questions about your case and my dear ex-mother-in-law, Vineeta Agnihotri.”

*

“Thank you. This was one good session.”

Sakshi gets up from Mishti’s bed, her words crisp and professional. Mishti can’t force a smile on her face, she doesn’t know if it is because she was forced to live through these three terrible months once again or because of the identity of the woman who sits in front of her. 

Mishti is grateful to her in any case. 

“What will happen to her? Samrat’s m-mother?”

Sakshi quirks up her brow at the question, a smirk crawling up her lips. “Samrat, eh?” she continues putting things up in her bag that includes a reorder, some files and another recorder. 

“Well… things would happen that should have happened way before. Had Samrat believed me at that time, maybe you wouldn’t have been sitting here like this.” Her gaze lands on the drip attached to her arm, but there is no hint of empathy on her face.

The words hurt Mishti right in her heart as the woman exhales an exasperated sigh. “Still, better late than never.” She says and stands up, and just as she turns to go out of the room, she stops in her tracks. 

“Before I forget, here,” she hands Mishti a sheet of paper, nudging it against her hand when she doesn’t take it in one go. 

“Your discharged papers from the jail.  You aren’t going there again. The rest of the case would take place from your house, if there would be a case, to begin with.” Sakshi chuckles dryly.

“Though if you want a spoiler, you and your little gang are free now. I’m sure Samrat would put all the blame on the agency, as he should because you were all underage when you were forced to get involved in this business, and as for what happened with you; the false case; attempt at molestation, and what happened with Tara and her parents; the murder – Vineeta Agnihotri will be convicted for it. I’ll make sure she is. And I don’t think Samrat would let anything happen to you now, considering that constable has been already put in jail. You just need one witness in the court to prove your innocence which wouldn’t be difficult. So congratulations on finally being free.”

*

They all move to Samrat’s house. 

On his insistence.

With all the wealth captured by the aforementioned’s mother and her disciples, they have nowhere left to live. At least not in India, not for time being. And even though Raghav and Mihir had been against the suggestion, when Samrat asked them to think about the situation carefully, they heaved a resigned sigh and agreed. 

Not to mention, they were extremely grateful to the man who for some reason was doing them favours one after the other.

The reaso -- Mishti had stayed quiet in the discussion.

Cue all of them entering the big house that they all had only dreamt of robbing till now. Oh, how the time changes. 

It is Vivek, for a change who leads the group, Aisha walking by his side, a pleasant grin on both their faces. They are followed by Ranveer and Raghav who look around the house trying to suppress the awed “Ah’s” that leave their mouth. 

The brothers are followed by Mihir and Mishti, former of whom is stoically moving forward, his arm curled around his sister's shoulder who is trying to tone down the nervousness that she feels while entering the house which gave her so much and took the double in return.

Though the task is made simpler by what is going behind the sibling duo – their ears erect like of rabbits. Because turns out that even though Samrat didn’t visit their orphanage often, the only time he did, he had met Ruhi, and that both of them had befriended each other. Yes, they are childhood friends. They had refrained from making a show of their meeting or telling anyone explicitly about it because of the situation they met in, and of course, Mishti but still, when you meet your childhood friend you want to talk to them.

A lot.

And they are doing just that.

It’s ok, Mishti is happy, at least for Ruhi though her brother doesn’t share the happiness if him turning around almost every second to glance at the duo with his narrowed eyes is anything to go by. 

“Wow!” Ranveer mutters mouth opened up in an ‘o’ shape as he takes in the beautiful chandelier hanging in the living room, instantly reminding Mishti of the day Samrat had taunted her regarding it. The fact that what the taunt asserted was close to the truth and now he knows that as well, embarrasses her to no end.

 “Any comments on that masterpiece?” he questions then, and Mishti, with no option left, lifts her gaze to the decoration. 

“It’s beautiful, sir.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

The man then takes a step towards her, the weight of it seeming almost predatory. Mishti’s breath hitches in her throat.“Just remember that you are free to admire all these beautiful things but aren’t allowed to take it, yes?”

Though when Samrat is reminded of the scene he bites back a smile, catching Mishti’s eyes, finally leaving Ruhi’s side and walking up to her, her brother’s attention on Ruhi, whose one smile is enough to unwind him.

“Hey, that is the vase that we were told to –”

All the people in the room collectively cringe at the statement that leaves Ranveer's mouth, the boy in question thankfully realising the absurdity of it and shutting up. 

Only for a few seconds. 

Because then his eyes land on the watch adorning Samrat’s wrist. “That’s the watch that Mihir bought, and I threw in the garden. You didn't even realise it wasn't your –”

“Shut up, Ranvi!” Both his siblings chide while Mihir rubs at his forehead frustrated. 

Mishti is left to sheepishly avoid eye contact with Samrat whose eyebrows have raised to his hairline after hearing the brand-new information. 

“I can explain,” Mishti tells him quietly, to which the man lets out a quiet snort. 

“You sure?” The lack of heat behind his words make Mishti release her hitched breath, nodding furiously.

“We are all sorry for what we did. And ashamed of it too. We just didn't have a choice.” Raghav says then, everyone nodding collectively, bringing the two out of their bubble.

Samrat though just waves a hand, shaking his head at the statement and giving them all an amicable smile.

“Sorry.” Mishti too says once every one has gone inside, just for a good measure and doesn't expect the way Samrat looks at her with intent eyes, any hint of hunor vanishing from his face.

“Don't say sorry to me. Never again. Please.”

Mishti can only give him a small smile in return.