Prithvi didn't glance at the girl standing near the table as he walked out of the room. The urge to seek some scrap of understanding from her was too strong, and if he approached her and she shrank from him again, he wasn't sure he could endure it.

His disorientation had increased in the last few moments. The more his mind thrashed around futilely to understand, the faster he seemed to be losing his grip on rationality.

This was not who he was...This was not how he should be...

He heard someone approach him and ask him a question. It was Sumer Singh.

"Prithvi, what's wrong?" Sumer Singh asked, greatly alarmed. There was a world of difference between the young man who had entered the room and the one who had walked out from it. He had seen many shades of Prithvi till date, but he had never seen this frightening lifelessness on the fair features...

Prithvi stared blankly at Sumer Singh. Nandini had wanted him to convey a message. What was it, he tried to recall. It came back to him on a tide of fresh despair.

"Baba, Nandini wants to...she wants to go back to Mrs Bhargava's house in Vishranti Nagar," he muttered. "She wants to leave immediately. You need to go with her."

Not registering any of Sumer Singh's frantic questions, Prithvi strolled away without being aware of where he was heading. A connection to reality seemed to have been severed, pushing him into a smothering miasma of confusion and heartache. He'd experienced this mental fog on occasions when he'd sustained life-threatening injuries. But this was more painful...

Prithvi stopped half-way down a flight of stairs. He hadn't realised he was heading to his mother's room.

Feeling ill, he stepped to the marble banister to lean against it, and remained unmoving for some time...

***********************

Sumer Singh hastened to the room and found Nandini standing motionless in a corner. Prithvi's traumatised demeanour had been that of an innocent who had suddenly been cast into a blazing fire, Nandini had the air of one who had endured the hellish agony of the fire and had emerged alive but horribly damaged.

"Nandini, what is Prithvi saying?" Sumer Singh asked her agitatedly. "Why do you want to go Mrs Bhargava's house all of a sudden?"

Nandini's damp eyes flitted over every object in the room for some moments before she looked at the tensed man. She feebly said, "It wasn't a sudden decision, uncle. I've been thinking about it since yesterday. This whole situation with Prithvi's family is very complicated, and I don't feel comfortable in the palace. So, will you please take me to Mrs Bhargava's house?"

"Oh...that's all? You didn't have a fight with Prithvi?" Sumer Singh asked, faintly relieved.

"No, we didn't fight," Nandini mumbled.

Sumer Singh contemplated the situation more calmly. If that was the problem, it wasn't as bad as he feared. While it was unfortunate that Nandini wanted to leave, her uneasiness was understandable. She was a simple 19-year-old with hardly any exposure to the world. Any person who had been raised in a loving and stable home would feel perturbed in the palace's current environment. She'd also had an unfortunate accident this morning, though the details were murky. And if he had to be honest, he was afraid of finding out what had caused those marks on her face.

With the upheaval that was going in his life, Prithvi was naturally upset at her request, but he would understand her viewpoint eventually.

"Everything will improve soon," Sumer Singh assured earnestly. "You will return then, won't you?"

Nandini's insides cramped up. She couldn't have any more painful conversations today. "Yes," she lied in a low voice.

"Okay, I'll take you to Mrs Bhargava's house," Sumer Singh said kindly. "Do you want to meet His Highness Uday Singh, and Kadambari before leaving?"

Nandini shook her head mutely.

"Alright, I'll explain everything to them later. We'll go to your room, so you can collect your belongings, and then we'll leave right away..."

**************************

No one who saw Priyamvada could have guessed the state of her mind. To the maids who were waiting discreetly in a corner of the hall, she appeared serene and elegant, and fully absorbed in reading the newspaper.

In truth, Priyamvada's emotions were alternating between maddening rage and crippling fear. She wanted to kill Nandini with her own hands...and she wanted to beg at the girl's feet for forgiveness...

And then there was the mundane problem of what she would do if Nandini spilled the beans about her violent outburst. Keeping in mind the likelihood of a commotion, she had chosen to sit calmly in this large hall instead being locked in her room. All those who had interacted with her after her furious exit from Nandini's room would vouch for her calm behaviour.

She could deny Nandini's claims outright, but that could prove unwise. She could rely on a sympathy-evoking spiel about her unstable mind and occasional memory black-outs. Yes, it was wiser to be prepared with an explanation on those lines.

She glanced up from the newspaper she wasn't reading on hearing a guard request authorization to enter the room. Once she granted permission, the man stepped into the hall and walked to her respectfully. He bowed and then conveyed a message from Uday Singh Rathod.

Aditya's degenerate uncle had finally remembered his manners and was on his way to meet her.

Cursing his timing internally, Priyamvada gracefully accepted the request. After the guard had left, she placed the newspaper neatly on the centre table and rose to her feet while covering her head with the gorgeous pallu of her saree. She despised the custom. However, the occasion warranted it, since this was the first time she was officially meeting a close relative of Aditya's as his wife, she thought with a bitter-sweet wrench in her chest. A sign of respect was called for...even if it was for the in-law for whom she had only derision.

Priyamvada inhaled deeply to calm her strained nerves and attached a beatific smile to her face.

**********************

Uday Singh ambled half-heartedly to the hall, dreading the sight of the hideous woman he had seen yesterday. His sleep had been continually disturbed by nightmares of the shrivelled woman who was supposedly Aditya's wife and Prithvi's mother.

But it wasn't only Priyamvada who was responsible for his troubled state. He was not comfortable with any of the developments that had rocked the palace since yesterday.

The lunatic of the family, Indrajit, had apparently arrived unannounced. Then Prithvi had beaten up Indrajit, and Priyamvada had gone berserk. And now one portion of the palace had become a hospital for Indrajit, for whom he couldn't summon an ounce of genuine concern.

Even without these troubled developments, he didn't have any idea what was he going to say to the woman. What was the right way to begin a conversation with a relative whom one had never met? A relative who had lived like a homeless beggar for years? He didn't know. He obviously couldn't raise an issue about Indrajit. Maybe he could tell Priyamvada about the grand celebration of Prithvi's birthday. And sometime later in the day, he would give her a copy of the photographs that had arrived late last evening. Yes, that sounded like a good plan..

Uday Singh halted in surprise and stared at the thin woman who was gliding towards him.

Priyamvada's excessively malnourished and bony look was still off-putting, but the eyes had an extraordinary power. And the silk clothes and jewellery had helped improve her appearance tremendously. He wasn't sickened by her now at least.

Smiling gracefully, Priyamvada walked to Uday Singh and touched his feet. He was too startled to respond with blessings but she didn't seem to mind.

"Thakurji, I apologise for not meeting you yesterday. I was told that you were asleep."

Uday Singh felt an unexpected prick of tears, and he couldn't speak for a minute. Then he fumblingly said, "You called me...Aditya used to call me by that name."

"I know," Priyamvada said gently, not reminding him that the name had been given teasingly because of Uday Singh's resemblance in looks and spirit to a comically lecherous character in a movie. She placed a hand lightly on his arm and guided him respectfully to the hall. "I should have come to meet you last night itself. But I was told that you were resting. Aditya used to talk of you often. He had greater affection for you than his own father. You supported him always and encouraged him to pursue his interests and follow his heart. He was grateful to you for giving him the freedom to be himself whenever he was with you," she said warmly while guiding him to a chair.

Uday Singh fumbled for his handkerchief and pressed it quickly against his eyes, ashamed of his maudlin reaction.

He didn't know what was happening. He was meeting Priyamvada for the first time. However, her manner was that of a close family relative who was meeting him after a short gap of time. There was no mention of her ghastly past, and he was grateful that he could pretend that gruesome events had not marred their lives. Impressively, the charm and affection in her behaviour didn't seem forced, and her speech flowed with an elegant beauty. The ugliness of her form seemed less and less relevant as she continued to speak to him...

Uday Singh wanted to contribute to the chat but he was overcome with the emotional pull of Aditya's memories. Priyamvada seemed to sense his condition and effortlessly talked to him of olden times.

"...and you've done us the greatest favour by bringing Prithvi to Aadyabhoomi. It was Aditya's favourite palace, and -"

Having regained his composure, Uday Singh gently interrupted, "Your son is the one who did me the greatest favour. I was waiting for death...Prithvi gave me a reason to live again. He is as caring as Aditya was, though his way of showing affection is slightly different from that of his father's," he chuckled. Becoming serious again, he benevolently added, "Aadyabhoomi is his. Everything I own – all my properties and wealth – belongs to Prithvi. The paper work has been done."

Putting aside her tension regarding Nandini, Priyamvada exulted jubilantly. But she masked her pleasure with finesse, and bowed her head in docile acceptance of his decision. She heard a sharp tap and was delighted to see her son walking into the hall.

Priyamvada rose from the chair and hurried to Prithvi. Absorbed in her private glee, she lovingly said, "You will live for a hundred years, Prithvi. Your great-uncle and I were having a conversation about you."

"Why did you hit her?" Prithvi asked quietly.

Stunned, Priyamvada stopped abruptly. She finally noticed the expression on her son's face, and the explanation she had planned to give suddenly appeared to be absurdly inadequate.

It wasn't until Prithvi saw the change on his mother's features that he realised he'd been nurturing a miniscule, childish hope that he had been wrong. His eyes shut for a moment, fighting to curb giant surges of both wrath and helplessness.

"Your mother hit whom, Prithvi?" Uday Singh asked confusedly. "What are you talking about?"

"I didn't mean to do it, Prithvi," Priyamvada said desperately, walking to her son. "I went to meet Nandini to have a normal conversation and find out more about her. Then she told me about her family....and...it's difficult to explain," she said helplessly. "You see, her father was a good friend of Aditya's. But I did not get along well with Siddharth. He was a judgemental, deluded person and he'd tried to poison your father's mind against me. So, when Nandini said she's Siddharth's daughter, I lost my temper and I slapped her. But I apologised to her immediately, and I even got her injuries treated. Didn't she tell you that?"

"She didn't tell me anything, Maa," Prithvi replied briefly as he segregated the truth from the lies.

Priyamvada stared at her son in astonishment, pride contending with nervousness. He had used the right tactic to make her spill the truth.

Then trying to get some control over the situation, she earnestly said, "Let me talk to Nandini. I will apologise to her again, and I'm sure she will -"

"She's leaving," Prithvi cut in bleakly.

Uday Singh had heard the bizarre conversation between mother and son silently till now, but the news that Nandini was leaving forced him to interrupt with a shocked, "Nandini's leaving? Because of what – what happened between her and Priyamvada?"

Prithvi maintained a steady gaze on his mother as he answered the question. "She says it's because Maa told her that her father had been against the idea of a relationship between her and me. Did that conversation even happen?" he asked bluntly.

Priyamvada didn't have to put up a performance this time. She needed Nandini to stay till every crime had been forgiven. After that, the girl could fall off a cliff and die for all she cared. It was surprising, though, that Nandini had not spilled the whole truth about their disastrous meeting that morning. It was possible that Prithvi was lying about that, but somehow, she felt certain that her son was being honest and Nandini had not revealed anything to him apart from that part about her father.  

"It did," Priyamvada assured distractedly. "But I wouldn't have told her about it if I'd known it would affect her so deeply."

"She's not leaving because of that," Prithvi muttered, shaking his head. "The real reason is something else. You have to tell me what that is, Maa," he asked in a subdued tone.

"Nothing else happened, I promise," Priyamvada insisted with remarkable conviction. "Take me to her, Prithvi. I'll calm her down. Nandini can't leave us – she mustn't," she murmured to herself, shaking her head.

A furrow appeared on Prithvi's forehead. His mother's distress was genuine this time, and it was quite excessive...

His racing thoughts were disrupted by the arrival of a guard at the door. The man bowed to the members of the family, and then respectfully addressed Prithvi, "Your Highness, Sumer Singhji wished to inform you that they will be leaving in a few minutes."

She was actually going away, Prithvi thought dazedly. All this time, he had not really believed she was serious about...any of the things she'd said. But she was leaving...for real...

He heard his mother's startled voice calling out his name but didn't turn or stop.

*****************************

Downcast, Sumer Singh watched the guard place the bag in the trunk of the car. He staunchly believed that the tensions between the children would dissolve within a day or two. But this turn of events was depressing...

With a faint sigh, Sumer Singh walked to the back of the vehicle opened the door and glanced at Nandini. The pale girl was staring vacantly at the gardens with red-rimmed eyes. She had taken a long time to pack her belongings and emerge from the room, and her face had looked more swollen than before...

"Nandini," he said kindly.

She silently climbed into the car without looking at him and shut the door.

Sumer Singh got into the passenger seat and the car began to move. The vehicle had covered several metres when Nandini abruptly said, "Stop."

"What's wrong, Nandini?" Sumer Singh asked, but she disembarked quickly and gazed at the palace.

Sumer Singh peered out of the window to look at the entrance. The area was vacant. Then he blinked, and all of a sudden, Prithvi was dashing out the doors.

Saddened beyond words, Sumer Singh sat back straight in his seat. He wanted to believe a reconciliation was about to happen, but something about Nandini's behaviour didn't let hope sprout in his heart.

He couldn't do anything for the children. He could only pray for the dark times to pass quickly and for Prithvi to get back the happiness he had found in Shamli...

Prithvi stared in disbelief at the girl who waiting near the car. From the location of the car, it was clear that it had commenced the journey and then stopped. She had known he was on his way, and had gotten out of the car to wait for him.

Oddly, the sight that should have filled him with optimism had destroyed the last shred of his hope. And he knew then with a gut-wrenching certainty that she wasn't leaving because she needed time to think. She was leaving because her decision was made.

He couldn't think...he could only feel the overpowering love he had for her...and the crippling fear of losing her.

They gazed fervently at each other, nearly maddened by longing.

In that blessed moment, they were alone...pure and free...untouched by the filth of the world.... untainted by the hatred that belonged to someone else...

Then she raised a trembling hand in farewell.

His heart splintered into innumerable pieces.

Nandini turned quickly and got into the car again.

Sumer Singh didn't dare to peer around the seat, and meekly said, "Nandini, should we...?"

With her voice shaking badly, she begged, "Let's go, please."

The last word came out as a choked sound. Quivering due to the humongous effort required to stay composed, Nandini pressed her fingers hard against her mouth.

Devastated, Prithvi watched the vehicle speed off, taking her away from him.

************************

Preceded by a maid, Priyamvada hurried to the main doors. She saw her son waiting in the foyer, evidently staring at an empty road. His back was to her, but she didn't need to see his face to know that she had a difficult conversation on her hands.

She dismissed the maid and walked tensely to Prithvi, carefully evaluating the smartness of the explanations she was going to offer.

She paused only when she was standing right in front of him.

Prithvi didn't look at her. His gaze was still transfixed on the road.

The searing agony in her son's eyes shook Priyamvada.

A disturbing memory hauled her back to the past. She was holding her little son's bruised body... rocking him pacifyingly to quieten him down...

Her father had been responsible for his pain back then...but today, she was to blame for his grief...

She hadn't realised how attached he was to Nandini, and now he was hurt because of her thoughtless actions. Her animosity and anxieties concerning Nandini lost all meaning for the moment. And she only knew a despairing wish to erase the pain that she had caused.

Briefly conquered by the pure love of a mother, Priyamvada touched her son's cheek and pleadingly said, "Please don't be upset with me, Prithvi. I really did not mean to hit Nandini."

Prithvi glanced at his mother absently.

"If you bring her back, I'll apologise to her again in front of you," Priyamvada suggested intently, ignoring her absolute disgust at the idea. "Or you could take me to her..."

The tender affection and genuine concern on her distraught face tugged him out of the mental haze. And he instantly switched back to the gentle manner that he had used with her as a child.

He quietly said, "It's okay, Maa. Everything will be fine."

Prithvi put a comforting hand around his mother, and struggling against the irrational hope of seeing the car return, he began walking with her back to the palace. As he was about to cross the threshold, however, he unthinkingly turned one last time.

The vacant road laughed at his shattered gaze.

************************

Janki waited with unconcealed agitation for the car to draw to a halt at her house. She had left the side of her ailing husband only because a close friend had requested her presence at a housewarming event. And the main pooja had not yet concluded when she'd received a call from her home. Sounding uneasy, Varsha had informed her that Nandini had returned to the house, and that the girl had apparently fallen down and gotten hurt.

The cook-cum-housekeeper's tension had seeped through the phone call and settled into Janki's stomach as a sense of dread. She had not tried to get in touch with Nandini through her mobile phone, sensing that it would only aggravate her tension.

If Nandini had been harmed in any way, it would be entirely her fault for entrusting her safety to strangers. She would perish of guilt if anything had gone wrong seriously, Janki thought uneasily as she dabbed at her perspiring face with a cotton handkerchief.

When the car finally stopped, Janki got down hurriedly and rushed into the house. She had a brief exchange with Varsha, and then hastened to Nandini's room.

The door was partially open. Janki walked into the room quickly, and then froze on seeing the girl who was rising from the bed.

"What happened to you, my child?" she asked in dismay, walking ahead to touch Nandini's face gently.

Nandini cleared her throat and tried to speak. But her voice refused to come out. She didn't know if it was the elderly woman's association with her family or the grandmotherly concern....but all of a sudden, the lined face before her eyes seemed to transform into a much younger one, and the eyes became even more loving and gentle. It was her mother's face

Surrendering to tears all of a sudden, she hugged Janki and started to cry.

Janki reacted in the same natural way that had helped pacify her children, grandchildren and other troubled souls in the past. With a natural affection and tact, she held the sobbing girl, stroked her head and uttered soothing terms of comfort, encouragement and strength.

When Varsha tapped on the door and sought entry with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits, she wordlessly indicated that the tray carrying both should be placed near her on the bed.

Janki waited patiently till the sobs subsided, then she comforted the young girl until the latter calmed down completely. In the next quarter of an hour, she used a highly effective combination of affection and authority to compel Nandini to consume a few biscuits and hot tea.

After Nandini had obeyed her with immense difficulty, Janki gently said, "Nandini, tell me what happened. Someone hit you, didn't they? Was it Prithvi?"

Nandini glanced at Janki with a fierce outrage.

Unfazed by the hostility, Janki mollified, "Alright, it wasn't him. then who? Some other person in the palace?"

Nandini shook her head. Her breakdown had eliminated any possibility of convincing Janki that she had gotten injured because of a fall. But it had also helped her in a way. An extreme numbness had taken hold of her. She didn't feel embarrassed or distressed or nervous. Those emotions would return in amplified versions soon, but they had left her alone for now.

"You can tell me without fear," Janki motivated. "I will ensure that they are punished."

"I don't want anyone to be punished," Nandini said hoarsely.

Adopting a slightly strict stance, Janki said, "Nandini, if you don't tell me how you got hurt, I will assume the worst...and I will file a police complaint.

"You can't do that," Nandini exclaimed in dismay.

"I'm afraid I will not have a choice," Janki said determinedly. "The person who did this to you cannot go scot-free. Your safety was - and is - my responsibility. How will I face your family knowing that you were hurt by someone while you were supposed to be under my protection and I didn't do anything. But if you tell me what happened, I will think about alternative solutions."

Nandini struggled to think of a way she could avoid divulging unpleasant truths regarding Prithvi's family to an outsider. But her brain was still not functioning. And the longer she took to respond, the more likely it was that Mrs Bhargava would assume she was concocting a fictitious story.

Nandini unhappily said, "I'll tell you the truth, aunty...but you cannot share it with anyone...anyone," she repeated worriedly.

"Your secrets will not go out of this room," Janki assured. "Now will you tell me who hit you?"

"Prithvi's mother - Priyamvada," Nandini muttered reluctantly.

"His mother?" Janki said, dumbfounded. "But I thought he was an orphan."

"Prithvi had thought so too," Nandini murmured. "His mother had left him when he was very young, and he'd been told that she had committed suicide. Then a few months back, he learnt that someone had seen her in this region. And from the moment he learnt that there was a chance she was alive, he began to travel from one place to the other in search of her, leaving home at daybreak and returning late at night. Going from one ashram to the other...without caring about food or rest," she described feverishly with increasing passion. "That's all he did for so many weeks. Then he found her yesterday. She had been living in a destitute home all these years. He brought her to the Aadyabhoomi palace."

Fingers clenching tightly, Nandini fell silent.

Janki was astounded by the unbelievably dramatic story. She wouldn't have believed it if not for the simple truthfulness in Nandini's narration. Yet, it was hard to believe that these extraordinary events had transpired in the life of the roguishly charming young lad she had met so recently.

"But why did she hit you?"

"She's not fully okay...mentally," Nandini mumbled. It was the safest explanation she could think of. No one would create a ruckus over the behaviour of a mentally ill person. "Today morning, she came to my room to talk to me. She was fine at the start, and said she wanted to know more about me. But in the middle of our conversation, she suddenly lost her temper and hit me."

"Why? What were you talking about?" Janki asked, mystified.

"Nothing in particular. She tends to get violent without any reason," Nandini fibbed uncomfortably. "After that, I didn't want to stay at the palace. So, I...I'm sorry for coming here without letting you know in advance."

"This is your home too. You don't have to ask me to come here," Janki reassured her vaguely. Then she rose from the bed and began pacing in front of the bed, thinking with a calm precision and placing facts in a logical order. Nandini was being evasive, but it was likely that the conversation had teetered towards the subject of Prithvi, and an element of possessiveness must have triggered violence in the unbalanced mother's mind.

And it was entirely plausible that Priyamvada was unstable. A woman who had been raised as a princess had lived in destitute homes for more than a decade. That could ruin any person's mental state.

Janki stopped pacing. She pulled the chair away from the writing table and sat down facing the bed.

"Nandini, you really believe Priyamvada is mentally disturbed?" Janki asked inquisitively.

There is nothing wrong with that woman's mind apart from being twisted and corrupt, Nandini thought acidly. But she passively said, "Yes."

Poor Prithvi, Janki thought with pity. But wasn't it possible that, like most devoted sons, he would have to refused to hear a word against his mother? And that would have led to a fight between the youngsters.

"How did Prithvi react when you told him that his mother had hit you?" Janki asked inquisitively.

Nandini softly said, "I didn't tell him."

Janki approvingly said, "You did the right thing. It would be too much for him to handle at this point. But how did you explain the marks on your face? The same lie you told Varsha? That you fell down some stairs?"

"Yes," Nandini muttered.

"Did he believe you?"

Nandini shook her head wearily.

"I didn't think he would," Janki said dryly. Then with curiosity, she asked, "He didn't object to you leaving the palace? He knows you've left, doesn't he?" she asked anxiously, not looking forward to the prospect of Prithvi landing up at the house again to take Nandini back to the palace.

"He knows," Nandini said dispassionately even as her heart thrashed about in pain. He had not stopped her because of his broken emotional state. But his innate hardiness was going to take over soon. And then she was going to have to face him again.

"He didn't ask you why you wanted to leave?" Janki asked.

Nandini glanced down and didn't answer.

A fight had taken place for sure, Janki mused. Letting go of the topic, she said, "Hmm...I suppose you should wait till a little normalcy returns to his world before you let him know what his -"

"I will never tell him what happened."

A spark of annoyance glimmered in Janki's eyes. She disliked people who played the martyr. Considering the hereditary factors, it was unsurprising to see the trait in Nandini. Yet, it was disagreeable to her that a girl so young should already begin behaving like the idealistic wimpy woman that society loved.

"My child, you might think you're being kind to him, but lies, and concealing facts, damage relationships in the long run," Janki cautioned.

"I know...but my silence is the last good thing I can do for him," Nandini whispered.

Confounded, Janki slowly asked, "What do you mean? Are you trying to say you've...ended the relationship?"

"Yes."

Janki's immediate reaction was to sigh with relief. For whatever reasons it had happened, it was for the best. Romantic dalliances between two college-going youngsters usually ended in disaster. And this particular relationship was definitely not going to culminate in marriage. It was better that the relationship ended before the couple had to face the usual bittersweet consequences of a juvenile, ill-fated love story. Yet, she pitied the children. And though she scarcely knew him, the lion's share of her pity was directed towards Prithvi.

At the same time, a niggling doubt in her mind was asking for more clarity on the situation. Human motivations intrigued her, and she was intensely curious about what was going on in Nandini's mind.

Janki gently asked, "You're splitting up with Prithvi because you're upset over his mother's behaviour? Couldn't you talk to him about the problem?" Unless you're lying and something more happened during your meeting with his mother that you don't want to share with me or him, she thought astutely.

"It won't change anything," Nandini said listlessly.

Talk to him. She was going to hear those words repeatedly from Sumer Singh, Kadambari, Uday Singh, and Sankatmochan in the coming days. And they would be absolutely right to give her that advice. If she discussed the issue with Prithvi, he would move heaven and earth to find a solution and preserve their relationship.

The problem was that she didn't want him to find a solution.

Her relationship with Prithvi had ended the moment Priyamvada, who was an inseparable part of his life, had shown murderous hatred for her family and revealed how she had intentionally harmed them. And then she'd had only two options. She could tell Prithvi the truth and then break up with him...or she could keep silent and do the same thing. The end result would be the same. She had chosen the first option to spare him as much pain as she could. It was all she could do for him now.

"But don't you think you're being unfair?" Janki prodded in a faintly disappointed tone. "Prithvi is not responsible for his mother's actions. He doesn't even know what she has done."

Nandini rubbed a hand over her forehead. "I have a headache, aunty," she said wearily. "Can I sleep for a while?"

"Yes, of course," Janki said immediately, feeling contrite at interrogating the girl when she was clearly distraught. "Take rest, my dear. We'll talk later."

After Janki had left the room with many more comforting assurances, Nandini closed the door and bolted it. She walked to the windows and drew the curtains shut to block out the bright sunlight. Then she turned and sat down tiredly on the cool floor, back resting against the wall.

She wasn't being just unfair to Prithvi. She was being cruel to him by breaking his heart when he needed her the most. In the past, he had given her valid reasons to break up on many occasions. But she had forgiven him each time. And now, when she was actually severing their connection forever, it was not for any fault of his. And not for a reason he, or anyone else, would understand.

Weakened by a bottomless exhaustion, Nandini rested the back of her head against the wall.

People would laugh if she said it aloud, but in her private world, she had become the head of her family...its guardian and protector...from the time it had sunk into her 11-year-old head that her father would never again walk into their home with his sweet smile. And the belief had only become stronger with time. In the following years, she had ensured that any person who had hurt any of her family members in the tiniest way was cast out from their lives, and it had been strangely easy for her to forget their existence.

But with Prithvi...

The separation from him would destroy her. Or perhaps she wouldn't have to endure it at all. Maybe God would take pity on her, and her soul would simply discard her body right now, sparing her from the torture of withstanding this pain for the rest of her life...

***************************