*Sixteen years later*

"Nanni, I don't want to go to bed yet!" Anjani, Maithili's six-year-old daughter, cried, tugging at her grandmother's dupatta. "Besides, you haven't finished the story. Did you reach the temple? Or did the bad guys get to you?"

Bhairavi lowered her head, giggling, "Of course, sweetheart. How could we not? After all, our driver was extremely gifted. Besides, we were the good guys and-"

"Good guys always win!" The child chimed in and then nodded slowly. A spitting image of her father except for her eyes, which were hazel like her mother's, she searched for more answers in her grandma's dark pools. "I can't believe you ran. You always refuse when I ask you to race with me!" The child cribbed, forgetting about the fates of her parents and grandmother for a moment.

"It happened so long ago, Kanna. I was younger then. Much stronger than I am now."

The child shook her head vehemently, "No. You are the strongest Nanni in the history of Nannis!" She countered, making the now-wrinkling woman laugh.

"So, what happened next?" Anjani repeated, and not finding a way out, her Nanni obliged, "Well, the temple, as it turned out, was as ancient as King Rama himself, and hidden inside the heart of the mountain, its opening was blocked by giant rocks. Thanks to our driver, who moved them with his pinky finger, we could sneak inside the sacred temple unnoticed by the bad guys."

The child clapped like her team had won. It had, but not in the way her Nanni had narrated it.

"What happened next?"

"Well, what do you know!? As soon as we stepped inside, my phone rang. It was your grandfather!"

Anjani's mouth fell open, "Oh, of course, it was him!" Her eyes shone with pride, "You hadn't spoken to him in two days. He was obviously worried." She bobbed her head world-wisely.

A perfect little grandma.

Keeping her smile under wraps, Bhairavi continued, "Yes. Not only that, he was so worried that he had taken leave and rushed to Jammu."

"Smart as always." The child commented. She made it sound like it was not her grandfather but her, who had walked through the door with the good guys. "And then?"

"Then what? We were rescued by the military police, the bad guys were put behind bars, the ancient temple was turned into a world heritage site, and," Bhairavi lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. Leaning in, she whispered in her granddaughter's ear, "-all of us lived happily ever after."

"Naaaaannniiii!" The girl drawled and pouted, "You always do this! You always end the story here."

No. It was not the first time Bhairavi had regaled her with this tale. Since the first time she had narrated their adventurous trip to The Valley- toning down the scary parts and censoring the terrible ones- to her granddaughter, Anjani had demanded it multiple times, perhaps hoping that her Nanni would divulge more of it. The child had a gut feeling her favorite grandma was hiding something.

"I'll stop here because the rest of it is boring, Kanna. Moreover, it's already past your bedtime. If your daddy catches me keeping you up so late, he will scold me." Bhairavi lied. There was no way Raghav would do that. That boy had been trying to win her favor forever. He was at it still.

"Amma, I would never do that." Raghav's (fake) offended voice made the duo turn to look at the door.

"Appa, you won't scold Nanni, will you?" The girl asked again, and hopping out of bed, she ran into her father's arms.

"Of course not, sweetie, I wouldn't dare! Do you know your Nanni didn't really like me when she met me for the first time all those years ago?"

Bhairavi cleared her throat, "Come on, Kanna, off to bed." She patted Anjani's spot, beckoning the child, hoping her son-in-law would forget about it already!

"Nanni, is that true?" The child asked innocently.

Bhairavi was still a terrible liar; she stuck with the truth, "Well, it's true. How would you feel if your best friend stopped speaking to you one day and started spending all her time with a boy?"

The child got the reference immediately; Bhairavi had trained her well, "Tsk. Tsk!" she shook her head disapprovingly.

Raghav sighed; throwing his hands in the air, he accepted defeat. "Sorry, Nanni, please forgive me!"

"Stop it, Beta-ji." She chided good-naturedly and instructed, "Put her to bed, please."

As she closed the door behind her, she heard Anjani demand, "I need to know more, Nanni; I won't let you leave for Delhi till you don't!"

The child was relentless, like her mother, Maithili.

Entering the kitchen, Bhairavi found Ashutosh waiting for her.

"Done with the story?"

Bhairavi nodded tiredly, "I don't know why she keeps wanting to hear it again and again!"

The now-retired army man smirked, "Because she knows you are hiding something." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I am not hiding anything." The woman waved her hand dismissively, just for it to be caught by her husband, "You know, my dear, you are still a terrible liar."

The grandma huffed.

"Then tell me, who was this driver who had literally moved the mountain to help you hide inside the temple? Where did he go? He wasn't there when I arrived. How did you know the way to a temple that history had forgotten? Who burnt the hospital to the ground? Why, despite the fire, not even a single person was hurt? And most puzzling of all, how come every single person owned up to their crime?

Bhairavi bit the inside of her cheek. There was a reason why she had fringed partial amnesia when the police had questioned her and why she was still protecting the truth even after sixteen years.

Her mind drifted back to the events of that fateful night when after sending her location to her husband, Rama's beloved friend had sat her down, and the two had conversed.

The immortal God had told her that every time she had called on her Bhagwanta, he, the monkey King, had come to her aid. The only time he had failed was the night before when she had consumed the sweet beverage Nan had given her and gone to bed without praying.

The liquid she had drunk without hesitation was a drug that dehydrated the body and drained the soul little by little. Luckily for Bhairavi, before the condition became irreversible, she had prayed, and her faith had turned tap water into ambrosia, healing her instantly.

The immortal had gone on to explain how Raghav, who had agreed to take up the role of Hunter to expose his father, had tried his best to speak to her privately but was sabotaged by the Operator, aka Golu, with the help of Nan's, who had sold their souls to Asuras in exchange for a prolonged life span. Though Raghav suspected the Nans' involvement, he was unaware that Golu was the man in charge of the mission all along.

After answering all her questions, he asked her for a favor.

'Aunty-ji,' Looking all childlike, scratching the back of his neck, the demigod had requested, '-by helping you like this, I have already broken more than a few rules. If this gets out, I will have more shackles placed on my freedom to help others. So, can you please keep this, my existence, a secret?'

What was Bhairavi to do?

She had accepted it, and soon after, she had fallen unconscious next to the feet of the seven-foot-tall idol of her beloved Lord Rama.

She had woken up in her husband's arms with a few more questions:

How had the cronies not found her before her husband?

How had the doors, which she was sure were made of rocks when she had entered, turned into wood?

Where had the Maruti 800 gone?

And lastly, how had Anjani and her, women with next to no muscle strength, pushed two gurneys single-handedly on a mud road!?

Of course, it was all Dheera's doing, Bhairavi had realized soon enough.

After getting discharged from the hospital, she had tried everything to look for Sungi: the woman whose research had helped her find the temple.

Alas, all her searches had led nowhere till one day when she finally recognized the symbol engraved on her name card.

"Why are you at it again; don't you always say I am a terrible liar? Would it have been possible for me to lie and get away with it in the lie detector test I had to take? When the police believe me, why can't you?" Bhairavi's eyes teared up, "Ashutosh, my dear husband, have I not been a good wife to you?"

There it was again: emotional blackmail.

The military man's shoulders slumped; he didn't want to make his wife cry; beating a hasty retreat, he cooed, "My dear, you are the most perfect, precious woman I have had the pleasure of meeting; the sole source of my joy and pride, I love-"

"Enough." She interrupted, smiling through her tears, "Now off to bed, soldier!" she commanded, and like he had been doing since day one, Ashutosh obliged.

Bhairavi replied cheerfully, "Love you too," and watched her obedient husband make his way toward their room.

The whiplash was as strong as it was all those years ago.

And it was still pretty scary.

"I know." The man replied without looking back and disappeared into their bedroom.

She stood there for a few, recalling the day police had shown up at the hospital and asked her to take a lie detector test to prove that she wasn't lying about her amnesia; disagreeing wasn't an option.

The next day, she walked into the examination room confidently and took her place opposite her examiner.

While she got wired, no one noticed Bhairavi close her eyes and mutter 'Jai Shree Ram' under her breath, nor did they bother to ask why she was smiling when she opened them.

The memory brought a smile to her calm countenance.

Making sure she was alone, Bhairavi tiptoed past the hall and dining to arrive at the Pooja room, where she took her place in front of her Bhagwanta. Smiling blissfully, she released the latch of the secret compartment and retrieved a well-worn notepad.

Caressing its spine, she glanced at the humanoid figure bowing at her Lord's feet, "This is the only thing I have left of you, my friend, but don't worry, I still have your back, and I always will, till my last breath." Then opening the notepad, she flipped to the last page, where Won Sungi's name card lay neatly tucked in its edge.

Bhairavi picked it up and turned it over.

The symbol gracing its front was long gone, leaving behind three words; words Bhairavi had always drawn strength from; the words she believed in more than anything; the words that resided in every fiber of her being, just like they did in the immortal God, Hanuman's: Jai Shree Ram!

Chapter Word Count: 1864
Final Word Count: 24633

Jai Shree Ram!